Mount Seir, Sinai and Western Palestine/Chapter 1
NARRATIVE OF AN EXPEDITION THROUGH ARABIA PETRÆA, THE VALLEY OF THE ARABAH, AND WESTERN PALESTINE.
CHAPTER I.
“OUTWARD BOUND.”
The work of the Palestine Survey, which had been partly completed in Moab by Captain Conder, R.E., having been interrupted through the opposition of the Turkish Government, the Executive Committee of the Palestine Exploration Fund determined to undertake a geological reconnaissance of Western Palestine and the Jordan Valley, in accordance with the programme of work to be done under the auspices of this admirable Society. The Topographical Survey of Western Palestine had now been completed and published, so that the time seemed ripe for investigating the physical phenomena of Western Palestine, the Valley of the Jordan, and of the deep depression in which lies the Salt Sea.[1] An offer to undertake this exploration having been made to me by Colonel Sir Charles W. Wilson, on the part of the Executive Committee of the Palestine Exploration Fund, I consulted with some friends regarding the nature of the countries to be traversed, climate, and other matters; and having received sufficiently encouraging replies, I gladly accepted the offer, and began preparations for carrying it out:—the Lords of the Committee of Council having been so good as to grant me three months' special leave of absence from my official duties in Ireland.
I had long taken a deep interest in the physical history of Palestine. I had read nearly everything that had been written on the subject, including the great work of M. Lartet, the geologist attached to the expedition of the Duc de Luynes, and had even gone so far as to deliver a public lecture on the physical history of the Jordan Valley and the Salt Sea in the theatre of the Royal Dublin Society.[2] Little did I think, when delivering that lecture, that I should have an opportunity in a few months' time of testing the correctness of my views by actual observation on the spot! Such, however, was the case; and within a few weeks I was busily engaged in my preparations for departure for the East.
It was of first importance to choose suitable companions. The Committee kindly allowed me to select an assistant; and I gladly accepted the offer of my son, Dr. E. Gordon Hull, to accompany me in that capacity, and, also, as honorary medical officer to the party. Major Kitchener, R.E., then in Egypt, was nominated by the Committee to undertake the topographical survey of the Wâdy el Arabah, and region to the north as far as the shores of the Salt Sea, so as to join up the triangulation with that of the Ordnance Survey of Palestine[3] and Mr. Armstrong, formerly Sergeant-Major R.E., who had taken part in nearly the whole of the previous survey, was appointed his assistant. It is scarcely necessary for me to say with what pleasure I received the tidings of the appointment of Major Kitchener as my colleague. I was aware of his great experience in the work of the Palestine Survey, of his knowledge of the character and customs of the Arab tribes amongst whom we were to travel, and of his ability to converse in their language. All this inspired an amount of confidence of ultimate success I should not otherwise have felt, and the result proved that my confidence was well founded. In matters connected with our dealing with the Arabs I readily deferred to his judgment, which I always found to be judicious, while he often acted as spokesman in our negociations with the Sheikhs.
It was, also, a matter of much importance to the safety of the party, towards the attainment of our objects, that great prudence should be exercised in dealing with the Bedawins;—at least we supposed so. The unhappy murder of Professor Palmer, Lieut. Gill, and their companions, by the Bedawins of the Tîh, was still fresh in our memories, and sometimes caused a cold thrill when I thought thereon. Some of my more judicious friends, when speaking with me on the prospects of my journey, accompanied their congratulations and good wishes with gentle hints to beware of the treacherous Bedawin, and “to remember the fate of Palmer.” They little thought, kind souls, how they were adding to my own mental anxiety, which I trust I did not allow any one to share, or even suspect. I kept it under lock and key, along with Besant’s narrative of that horrible tragedy, and insisted, in reply to my friends, that the circumstances of Professor Palmer and myself were entirely different (which was undoubtedly the case), and that in the capture and execution of the murderers the Bedawins had received a lesson which they would not readily forget. Such was also the view that my friend and counsellor, Sir Charles Wilson, had endeavoured to impress upon me.[4]
As will be seen in the sequel, both the scope and area of the Expedition were considerably enlarged as time went on. In the letter of Mr. Glaisher,[5] F.R.S., Chairman of the Executive Committee in which the route and objects to be kept in view were definitely laid down, it was stated that we were to proceed overland to Egypt, where we should be joined by Major Kitchener, and from thence strike into the desert of Sinai, which we were to traverse as far as the head of the Gulf of Akabah. From thence we were to proceed northwards along the whole length of the Wâdy el Arabah, to the southern end of the Salt Sea, and proceeding along the western shore as far as Ain Jidi (Engedi), turn up into the tableland of Judea to Hebron, from whence the officers of the Engineers were to return to Egypt, while the other members of the Expedition were to proceed to Jerusalem, and organise another expedition into the Jordan Valley, Moab, and Northern Palestine. It will thus be seen that a tour of unusual extent and interest was placed within our reach, including countries and places second to none in importance from their sacred associations, their historical antecedents, and the physical conditions under which they are placed. The Committee also took care that everything should be done for the comfort and safety of the travellers. The Egyptian Government, through the Foreign Office, offered an escort as far as Akabah, the limit of Egyptian territory; but as we had no reasons for apprehension from the Arabs in the Sinaitic peninsula, we did not think it necessary to avail ourselves of the kindness of Cheriff Pasha, who had offered through Major Kitchener to give us every assistance in his power. The district where an escort of soldiers was likely to be of use lay between Akabah and the Salt Sea, and here the Egyptian escort would have been unable to accompany us.
The party as it now stood consisted of four; but it was obviously desirable that it should include a naturalist, who should make notes and collections of the representative fauna and flora of the district to be traversed; and of a meteorologist, who should also make observations on the temperature, rainfall, and aneroid determinations of the levels of special points along our route. I therefore cast about in my mind for volunteers having the necessary time and qualifications to undertake those departments of research, and was most fortunate in both instances. Mr. Henry Chichester Hart, who joined us in the former capacity, had been personally known to me for several years as an ardent investigator of the flora of Ireland, having made several reports on the botany of special districts of that country, under the auspices of the Royal Irish Academy. He had also acted as Naturalist in the expedition of Sir George (then Captain) Nares, R.N., to the Arctic regions, which had penetrated as far north as 83° 14′ lat. To these antecedents Mr. Hart added an uncommon power of enduring bodily fatigue; and he proved a most agreeable addition to our party, owing to his imperturbable good humour, and the extent of his knowledge on natural history subjects. Mr. Reginald Laurence, Associate of the Royal College of Science, Dublin, who accepted my invitation to act as Honorary Meteorologist to the Expedition, had also been my personal friend for several years, and from my knowledge of his antecedents and ability, I felt sure he would prove the right man to complete our quorum; and in this I was not disappointed. Never, I feel sure, were six persons more happily associated in an undertaking of this kind. Throughout our whole tour the utmost good feeling prevailed amongst the members; each took an interest, not only in his own department, but in those of the others, and tried to assist in them as opportunity offered. My son, having had considerable practice in photography, undertook to bring home photographs of the district through which we were to pass, and through part of which no photographer had as yet penetrated. Our Expedition was thus tolerably complete in all its branches.
The previous expeditions sent out by the Society had been managed by the officer in command, either through a dragoman or with the natives direct. As, however, the present journey was through a country unknown to any of the members of the party, and among tribes of indifferent reputation, it was thought best to make use of the facilities provided by Messrs. Cook & Son, whose agents and dragomans in Cairo are well acquainted with the Desert and the Sheikhs of the various tribes. Consequently, an arrangement having been come to with the London office, we were enabled to travel without trouble as to tents, food, attendants, escort, or camels, everything being done for us, perhaps the more efficiently on account of the personal interest taken in the Expedition by the head of the firm.
Several days were spent in London by all the members of the party in making preparations. Theodolite, compasses, aneroids, thermometers, photographic apparatus, guns, revolvers, ammunition, geological hammers, maps, suitable clothes, stationery, and many other articles had to be provided, packed, labelled, and despatched. Mr. Armstrong was to follow in a few days by steamer from Marseilles, and join us in Egypt. My son and I met the Committee in Adam Street for a parting consultation and farewell, which was very warmly given us by the Chairman, Mr. Glaisher. On the day following we all dined with my brother-in-law, the Rev. H. Hall-Houghton,[6] at the National Club, Whitehall, and on Saturday we took our seats for Dover in the train at Ludgate Hill Station, Mr. Cook being on the platform to see us off, and wish us “a good journey.” We crossed the “silver streak” during an interval of comparative tranquillity, and in a boat, fortunately, other than the “Calais-Douvre,” so reached Paris in the evening, without having had to undergo the usual passage experiences.
We left Paris for Milan by the “through train,” viâ Basle, on Sunday evening. Our train was to have been in connection with another leaving Basle about noon, but as we approached this city our progress gradually approximated to a walking pace. With a view, doubtless, to reciprocity, as we got impatient the train slackened speed, with the not unexpected result that we were late for the train into Italy. The day was wet and cold, and in order to pass a part of it in motion we took the next train to Lucerne, hoping for a change. But this beautiful city was draped in sombre garb. A canopy of cloud shrouded from our view the mountains, while a ceaseless drizzle damped our desire for sight-seeing. Some of the party, however, visited the remarkable “glacier garden” near the city; and after dinner at the hotel we were glad to find ourselves again in the train, notwithstanding the disappointment of being obliged to cross the Alps at night. But though night, all was not dark. As we ascended the mountains towards the St. Gothard Tunnel the canopy of cloud melted away; and about midnight the moon and stars shone forth, illuminating the snow-clad heights on the one hand, and throwing into still deeper shade the ravines and frowning precipices along which we threaded our way. On issuing forth from the tunnel on the Italian side, and as break of day approached, we found the sky clear, and we descended into the plains of Lombardy amidst a blaze of sunshine, which cheered our spirits; and under such circumstances we drove through Milan, visited the cathedral, and in the afternoon took our seats in the train for Venice which we reached after dark. It was a new experience for all of our party but myself to find ourselves seated in a gondola, and piloted along through the canals, shooting numerous archways, and gliding along the dark, mysterious walls of houses, churches, and palaces, to the steps of the Victoria Hotel, where we were soon comfortably housed, to await the departure of the P. and O. steamship “Tanjore” for Egypt on the following Thursday.
We endeavoured to put our time to good account, and see as much of the “Queen of the Adriatic” as possible. I found that my former visit had in no way lessened the pleasure of a second, and I saw and heard much that had escaped me previously. Engaging the services of a very efficient guide, who informed us that he had accompanied Mr. Ruskin when collecting his materials for “The Stones of Venice,” we made a very full examination of the Palace of the Doges, the Duomo of St. Mark, and other sights of this wonderful city. In the evenings we sipped our coffee under the colonnade of the Piazza, listening to the music of a very fine military band, or gazing with wistful eyes into the brilliantly lighted shops, so eminently calculated to elicit the last lira from the pocket of the beholder. Though we made some purchases, I fear our stay in Venice did not add materially to the wealth of the city. We recollected there were bazaars in the Eastern cities we hoped to visit with objects of still greater novelty than those even of Venice.
Owing to the quarantine regulations, the “Tanjore,” Captain Briscoe, was unable to come up to the Grand Canal, so we left Venice in a steam launch, in which we were conveyed down through the lagoons to the place in the bay where our good ship rode at anchor. We passed several islands and forts, amongst others one built by the Genoese in the fourteenth century, and several, rising from the lagoons, erected by the Austrians in 1859–60. These lagoon islands are in some cases of vast extent, and are covered by the waters of the Adriatic when the wind blows strongly from the south. In 1875, on the 5th of January, a south wind banked up the waters of the Adriatic till they overflowed most of the islands, and for two days the Piazza of St. Mark was submerged to the depth of four or five feet.
We found the “Tanjore” crowded with passengers when our contingent had come on board. These included General Sir Evelyn Wood and party returning to Egypt, and several persons bound for that country, as well as for Cyprus and India, whose company we enjoyed till we reached Port Saïd. In the evening we weighed anchor, and steamed down the nearly smooth waters of the Adriatic, often out of sight of land, but sometimes with distant views of the coasts and islands of Italy on the one hand, and of Dalmatia on the other. One of the islands, called “The Half-way Rock,” rises as a sharp ridge, apparently of limestone, from deep water.
Early on Saturday morning, we entered the harbour of Brindisi as far as the coaling depôt of the P. and O. Company, and we had all to turn out of our berths pretty early in order to pass muster before the medical officer, who was pleased to give us “a clean bill of health,” without a very strict diagnosis of each case. On this and a subsequent occasion I had an opportunity of observing the absurd nature of quarantine regulations. Like the passport system, that of quarantine only seems to give to travellers gratuitous trouble and expense, without accomplishing the object for which it is supposed to be instituted. How this was illustrated in our own case will be noticed in the sequel. In the case of the “Tanjore,” it was so long since she had left Egypt (from which the cholera had almost disappeared) that any case on board would have manifested itself long ere she had entered the Venetian waters; yet she was not permitted to enter the harbour, and her passengers coming from the west and north of Europe, where cholera had never entered, were subjected to inspection on reaching Brindisi![7]
We spent Saturday and Sunday in this port, awaiting the arrival of passengers and mails for Egypt and India. The time was agreeably occupied in visiting the town and surrounding country in company with one or two friends, amongst whom I may be allowed to mention the name of Mr. Sinclair, R.E., Secretary to the Governor of Cyprus, Sir R. Biddulph. Both the plants and animals of this neighbourhood indicate an approach towards those with which we were afterwards to become familiar in Egypt. The low cliffs of the shore, formed of yellow tufaceous limestone, abound in shells of late Tertiary age,[8] some identical with those of the adjoining waters, while the ground swarmed with bright green lizards, beetles, and ants; butterflies, wasps, and flies also floated about in the air, giving abundant occupation to Mr. Hart in collecting specimens and noting their habits. One peculiar species of wasp here lays its eggs in little balls of mud, in which the larvæ may generally be found.
The sub-tropical vegetation of the district is remarkably rich. Here the graceful date-palm waves its plumes aloft, amidst groves and gardens of olives, figs, oranges, vines, mulberries, and stone-pines. The eucalyptus has been introduced and planted extensively along the roads, while the hedgerows are formed of the bristling lines of the large cactus (prickly pear) and aloes. The cotton-plant is cultivated in ground which can be irrigated, while oleanders, myrtles, and foreign plants adorn the gardens.
The town itself, the ancient Brundusium, visited but scarcely seen by thousands of travellers annually, is of much interest, from its position and history. It stands on an inlet of the Adriatic, and the harbour, of great importance in Roman times, is capable of holding large ships. The harbour is connected by a causeway with a fortification, or castle, standing on the summit of a cliff to the south of the town, and in a commanding position. This is now used as a prison, and the inmates are usefully employed in a variety of reproductive works, such as carpentry, smiths’ work, tailoring, &c., at which we found them busy when visiting the place on the afternoon of our arrival. There is a ditch and wall, with towers and gates, erected by the Emperor Frederick Barbarosa, probably on the site of more ancient structures, and amongst the remains of Roman work are two marble pillars, one of which is broken, at the end of the Appian Way.
The country inland consists of an extensive plain, about 200 feet above the sea, richly cultivated in crops of maize, wheat, and cotton, with farm-steads surrounded by gardens of olives, figs, and vineyards. This plain is traversed by the high roads to Rome and Naples, and several ancient fountains, doubtless coming down from Roman times, still afford water for thirsty men and animals by the wayside. The plain, formed of shelly limestone, beds of marl, clay, and sand, was at a very recent geological period the bed of the sea, and its uprising has added thousands of square miles to Italian territory.
On Sunday morning Captain Briscoe held Divine Service in the cabin, and read the prayers and lessons with due solemnity and effectiveness; and at 3 o’clock on Monday morning we steamed out of the harbour.
We soon passed from the deep indigo-blue waters of the Adriatic to those of the Mediterranean, which are of a greener tinge, not unlike those of the Atlantic. The voyage was very agreeable, and we only once came in for bad weather, which did not last very long. The view from the deck of the “Tanjore” on Monday towards the north-east was always striking, even at the distance from the land at which we sailed. The bold and rocky mountains of Albania stretched away for miles from left to right; beyond which, at a distance of over thirty miles, might be seen the mountains of Greece; — the sun lighting up the peaks and scarped terraces of the white limestone of Epirus; the Island of Corfu lying in the fore-ground. Towards evening the coasts of Cephalonia and Zante came in sight.
Awaking next morning, we found ourselves approaching Crete (Candia), and now a stiff gale was blowing from the north-east. Rain also was falling, and we began to feel tolerably miserable. The breakfast table was not quite as fully occupied as usual, and some of us found it convenient to retire to our cabins before we had had time to partake of a hearty meal. However, about “tiffin” time the wind moderated, and we returned to the deck to watch the scenery of the island, along whose coast we were sailing at a distance of about twenty miles. The Island of Crete (as is well known) is mountainous; the peaks of Mount Ida, rising to 7,674 feet, were on this day cloud-capped. The sides are cut into deep ravines, clothed with a slight forest vegetation. The sunshine effects were sometimes very beautiful, the higher elevations being so brightly white as to resemble the snow-clad summits of the Alps. Towards evening the sky presented a grand spectacle. Overhead the stars shone forth from the dark blue vault of heaven; from time to time the clouds which hung over Crete were illumined by brilliant sheets of lightning often bursting forth from behind the mountains like the flames of a volcano in active eruption; while brilliant meteors occasionally streamed across the heavens. This scene lasted several hours. The beauties of the sky were so enticing, and the air so balmy, that it was with regret we turned into our berths late at night.
- ↑ I prefer this name to that of the “Dead Sea,” a name of much later origin, and originating in a misconception. The name “Salt Sea” (Gen. xiv, 3) is peculiarly appropriate to an inland lake of such intense salinity, and was in use at the time when the Pentateuch was written. The Arabic name for this lake is “El Bahr Lut,” the Sea of Lot.
- ↑ An abstract of this lecture appeared in Nature, March, 1883.
- ↑ The Palestine Survey Map, published on a scale of ⅜ of an inch to one statute mile, includes the western shore of the Dead Sea as far as Sebbeh; from this point the southern boundary runs along Wâdy Sciyal, Wâdy el Milh, Wâdy es Seba, and the Wâdy Ghuzzeh, to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea, south of Gaza.
- ↑ The matter is very fully gone into in Mr. Besant’s “Life of Professor Palmer.” There can be no doubt, as we afterwards learned on the spot, that Palmer’s death was planned by the agents of Arabi Pasha, and that the Arabs, who were to a man on Arabi’s side, were only carrying out the orders they had received from Egypt.
- ↑ Of date 7th July, 1883.
- ↑ Mr. Hall-Houghton is a member of the General Committee of the Palestine Exploration Fund, and was present at the meeting of the Special Committee on the previous day.
- ↑ That Egyptian cholera comes, not from India, but from Mecca and Midina, and is generated amongst the thousands of pilgrims who annually are collected for several days within an exceedingly limited area, where they are subjected to the effects of breathing foul air, drinking corrupted water, and living in filth and privation, will be conceded upon reading the “Rapport sur la dernière épidémie de Choléra à la Mecque,” in the Gazette Médicale d’Orient, September, 1883, by M. le Dr. Abdur-Rassack.
- ↑ Pliocene according to Collegno’s map.