Mount Seir, Sinai and Western Palestine/Chapter 15
CHAPTER XV.
AMONGST THE PHILISTINES.
New Year's Day, 1884.—This day was spent in camp, writing letters and sending telegrams. Mr. Schapira came early to the camp, to wish us "a happy new year," and brought a copy of the Standard of the 9th December, which was very acceptable. Shortly afterwards came the medical officer of quarantine, mounted on a pony, with an attendant. He was an Italian, and spoke his own language, or French, with great volubility. We endeavoured to impress upon him the absurdity of keeping our party in durance, as it was six weeks since we left Egypt, and, therefore, we might be presumed to be perfectly free from the taint of infection. He replied that his orders to detain us were imperative, and that the quarantine regulations were "international." That it did not matter how long we had been out of Egypt, and that he could only release us if we gave him our word of honour that we had not come from that country. He congratulated us on our healthy appearance, and expressed his regret at the necessity for keeping us in quarantine for fifteen days; and wished us "good-bye," remarking that he "must return home to dinner." He then formally declared us in quarantine, and rode away. Two additional sentries were placed round our camp, cutting off our outlet to the sand-hills, which the day previous we had been allowed to ramble over.
Early in the morning of Wednesday, 3rd January, a telegram was received from Lord Dufferin, stating that he was doing all in his power to obtain our release from quarantine. This was good news, and we all felt grateful to his lordship for so promptly complying with our request. Shortly after, the medical officer again arrived, bringing newspapers, copies of the Revue des deux Mondes, and desiring special introductions to each member of our party. He then presented us with a bottle of wine, another of excellent Trieste beer, and wished us—"adieu."
On Saturday morning, the fifth from our entrance into Gaza, our eyes were gladdened by the sight of the doctor, accompanied by Mr. Schapira, making their way towards the camp. A wave from Mr. Schapira's hand was the first intimation of our release, and a telegram from Lord Dufferin was handed to me intimating the immediate prospect of this event. This I read out, and a cheer for his lordship burst forth from all the party. I immediately telegraphed our thanks, and also expressed to Mr. Schapira our gratitude for his friendly offices. Orders were given to prepare our horses for a ramble through and around Gaza, and my son returned to the city in company with the doctor, Mr. Schapira, and Bernhard Heilpern, to square up accounts—a most unpleasant transaction, as it afterwards proved.[1]
On Sunday, 6th January, after prayers in the tent, we left our camp at Gaza, in the forenoon, so as to reach El Medjet by the evening, on our way to Jaffa. Winding through the hedgerows of prickly pear, we entered an extensive forest of very ancient olive-trees, some of great size and girth, and some of which may have been at least a thousand years old. All along our way on the right the land was extensively cultivated, and numerous teams of oxen or camels were turning up the fallow ground. On the left, however, a different scene presented itself. The high sand-hills, under which we had camped at Gaza, continued all along, advancing inland or retreating towards the coast, but on the whole a continuous feature all along the sea-board of Philistia.[2] These enormous accumulations of fine sand, being driven by the westerly winds, are constantly advancing towards the east; swallowing up lands, gardens, farms, and even villages, in their resistless progress. They thus constitute a serious source of danger, and a constant menace to such towns as Gaza, El Jora, Ascalon (now partly buried in sand), Esdùd, and Yazûr, which are situated near their borders. It is well known, in fact, that ruins of the ancient Gaza are now lying buried beneath the sandhills; and, as this city had a port named Majuma as late as the sixth century of our era, which has now disappeared, it is quite possible that the ancient city, which it cost Alexander the Great such an effort to take, may have been swallowed up, and that the present site may be much more recent. The only place where I observed a barrier to the progress of "the irresistible destroyer," was along the banks of the Wâdy-el-Halîb, where for some distance the sand appears to be swept away by the waters of the river as fast as it enters its channel. On the eastern bank the country was free from sand.[3]
Towards evening we pitched our tent in an open space outside the walls of Medjet (Migdol Gad, one of the towns given to Judah, Josh, xv, 37) amidst cultivated fields, gardens, and olive groves. Some of the olive-trees are of large size, and hollow in the interior; one which I measured was 19 feet in circumference at 4 feet from the ground. Hart measured others of even greater girth. The district around is the raised sea-bed, and in the loam and sand occur numerous shells, especially those of the Pectunculus glycineris.
It was with extreme regret that we were unable to visit Ascalon, which lay several miles to the west of our road, but time did not permit. The reader, however, will have less cause of regret owing to the excellent description of this most interesting city given by Captain Conder.[4] the course of the following day we passed through another of the five cities of the Philistines, Ashdod (Asdûd), standing on two hillocks surrounded by gardens; and in the afternoon we camped for the midday meal at Yebna (Jabneel, Josh. xv. 11). It is remarkable how slightly the old Scripture names have changed, and consequently in traversing this interesting country our thoughts are from time to time carried back to the wars of Israel with the Philistines, and the eventful histories of David, of Saul, and of Sampson. The huge form of Goliath of Gath rises before our eyes; and at some distance to the right of our line of march we could see the great valley on either side of which were drawn up in martial array the armies of the Philistines and "the hosts of the Living God," and where the stripling laid the monster giant low with a stone from the sling. The road we were travelling had often felt the tramp of armies. Here the hosts of Assyria and of Egypt had passed and repassed. Later on, those of Alexander, of the Romans, the Crusaders, and last of all, of Napoleon Buonaparte. The country along which we wended our way was excellently cultivated, and often formed of rich brown loam many feet deep. Camels and oxen were busy in the fields, or passed us laden with agricultural produce, while large herds and flocks of cattle and sheep covered the pasture lands. The land is cultivated by the fellahin; and, if any of them are descended from the race of the giants, I can well believe it, as they are for the most part men of good stature, if not of gigantic proportions. All along our road to the left, the desolating sand-hills might be seen—sometimes at a distance rising in steep slopes, threatening to bury the country at their feet. In one spot, a short distance south of Yazûr, the sandy avalanche had descended the hillside, and had partially covered the gardens and park of some important householder (apparently in the position of a "country gentlemen" at home), and it seemed only a question of time when the house itself would be entombed; some fine trees, which had originally decorated the grassy slopes of the adjoining park, were now rising out of a surface of sand. At length, after passing the suburbs of Yazûr, we emerged towards evening on the high road from Jaffa to Jerusalem. It was a new experience to tread on a paved or "metalled" road, and to meet a waggonette carrying passengers. For two months we had been traversing pathless wastes, or following tracks of animals, sometimes scarcely perceptible; but we had not till now trod a carriage road, nor witnessed any vehicle in the form of a stage coach. We felt that we had now left the desert and its people behind, and were coming in contact with Western civilisation! This feeling was intensified when, after winding along lanes in the suburbs of Jaffa, bordered by groves of orange and lemon trees laden with fruit, we found ourselves within the four walls of "the Jerusalem Hotel," and were able to stretch our limbs on a bed under cover of a roof, and to rest after a ride of thirty English miles. Perhaps it was ungrateful not to feel in boisterous spirits at the change in our surroundings which we had experienced; but, truth to tell, camp life had become, not only familiar, but pleasant to us; and our feelings at changing it for one of a more civilised kind were not altogether those of unmixed pleasure.
Time did not admit of a prolonged stay at this interesting old city, but only of a visit to the beach, the fountain, and "the House of Simon the Tanner."[5] A natural breakwater of calcareous sandstone projects outwards into the Mediterranean from the ancient walls at the south end of the town. Outside this all large ships are obliged to cast anchor; and passengers as well as cargoes have to be received and discharged by means of boats, which frequently have to breast a heavy surf. The rock is seen under the lens to be composed of comminuted shells, pieces of coral, and other marine forms; and it appeared to me to be of recent formation, raised into the air when the whole sea-bed was being elevated. A similar formation of shelly limestone appears still to be in process of consolidation along the shore further towards the north, where it is quarried just under the sands at the margin of low water. The shells of which it is formed are those which strew the shore in immense numbers, chiefly those of Pectunculus glycineris.
A similar formation has been recognised by Drs. Hedenborg and Lartet as occurring at other points of the coast of Palestine and Syria, as, for example, at Tyre and Sidon, and they attribute its position at, or near, the surface, to the recent slow elevation of the sea-bed, which may be still in progress.[6]
Having made a circuit of the town, and paid off our dragoman Ibraham and his assistant, we mounted our horses early in the afternoon in order to proceed to Ramleh, where we proposed to break the journey by passing the night on our way to Jerusalem. The hotel at Ramleh, like that at Jaffa, was kept by a German Lutheran, and was clean and comfortable. A pretty little gazelle was the playmate of the family, and we felt grateful to the German nation all round, who send settlers to Palestine in order to provide "gasthausen" for weary travellers. Ramleh is a village pleasantly situated amongst gardens, and groves of olive-trees, sycamores, and carob-trees. Its lofty tower rises high above the surrounding country, and is a work of great skill and excellence; both Christians and Moslems claim the honour of having erected it, and if we are to believe the inscription over the door, the honour is due to the latter. Ramleh is a town of comparatively modern date, founded in A.D. 716 by 'Omayyad Khalif Suleiman,[7] but at a distance of only two miles to the north, on the old road to Jerusalem, is the village of Lydda (Lud), the name of which is dear to every reader of the New Testament, the home of Æneas. We are told that Lydda was nigh to Joppa,[8]—that is just twelve miles,—and thither the messengers from Joppa were sent to hasten the steps of the Apostle to the deathbed of Dorcas. Like Ramleh, Lydda is surrounded by extensive olive-groves, and seems a pleasant spot. The road from Jaffa to Jerusalem is not one of the best in the world, but it is the best in Palestine. It is repaired when there is a prospect of the visit of some foreign prince or potentate. Not far out of Jatfa we passed a large number of men busily engaged in breaking stones for repairing the specially bad places, and near Ramleh we found them laying the stones on the mud and (will the reader credit the fact?) rolling them with segments of marble, or granite, columns which may have adorned some ancient palace, temple, or theatre! On seeing this desecration one might well exclaim —
"Sic transit gloria mundi!"
On leaving the courtyard of our hotel next morning I was shocked to behold, for the first time, a group of lepers, who, lining the wayside on either hand, plaintively called on the "hawajahs" for bakhsheesh, and holding out their hands approached unpleasantly close to the horses. Except on the Bethlehem road outside the walls of Jerusalem I nowhere else saw any persons afflicted with this incurable disease. An excellent hospital for the reception of these unhappy beings has been established outside Jerusalem by the liberality of Germans and English. It is presided over by a pious German, who has devoted himself to the duty of attending on the patients, who are well cared for when within the walls. Unfortunately, however, for society, seclusion of lepers is not compulsory, and thus the disease, which is hereditary, is perpetuated. Under the circumstances, of which I was fully informed,[9] it is a crime against society to give alms to the lepers of Palestine.
On leaving Ramleh the sky was cloudy, and rain was falling; but as we proceeded the weather improved, and our ride was full of interest. About noon we came in view of the Valley of Ajalon, renowned in Jewish history, stretching away to the northwards till lost amidst the hills; and shortly after, we halted at Bab-el-Wady (the mouth of the Valley) for the midday meal. Here the table-land of Central Palestine rises from the plain, and the glen itself, hollowed out of sheets of limestone, affords a field of great interest to the botanist. As we ascend it gradually expands in breadth; and the olive-trees, which line the brook-course, gradually spread over the sides of the glen, and ultimately rise to the hill-tops, so as to cover, as with a forest, the whole surface of the country. Hart soon found abundant occupation amongst the shrubs and plants which lined the ledges of the limestone rocks, or had obtained a footing in their fissures or on their sides. They were for the most part evergreens, approaching in character those of the south or west of Europe and the British Isles;—or, perhaps, rather those of the Jura hills and the borders of the Alps. One could recognise a large-leafed barberry, an arbutus, a dwarf oak with large acorns (Quercus pseudo-coccifera, Desp.) a Poterium spinosum, and several prickly shrubs. A pretty little cyclamen, a large daisy, and a "bachelor's button" peeped out here and there from under the bushes. To make the surroundings more homelike there were our robin redbreast and a blackbird flying about, and coming as confidingly close to us as they are wont to do in England when unmolested. On ascending to the top of the long valley, and turning a point of the road, we were able to look back through a gap in the hills, and we could see far-below us the plain of Ramleh and Lydda, and in the distance the blue waters of the Mediterranean.
Our road for many miles wound along the sides of these bare limestone hills, or overlooked the very deep ramifying valleys which penetrate far into the central table-land. The scenery was most peculiar, and differing from any I had seen elsewhere. The absence of natural forest trees in valleys, which one would suppose were peculiarly fitted for their presence, together with the scarcity of verdure, cannot but strike the eye even of the most cursory spectator; while on the other hand, where labour had been bestowed in cultivating these stony valley sides, the results were evidently most successful; as, for instance, in the vicinity of Lôba and Kastal. At length, on reaching a bend in the road on the verge of the spacious Wâdy Suleiman, we noticed a little hamlet perched on the hillside to our left, and marked by three small white domes. "That," said Bernhard Heilpern, "is Kûlcnieh, in all probability the village of Emmaus;[10] it is just the distance of a 'sabbath-day's journey' from Jerusalem." So now we were for the first time approaching the scene of the Saviour's converse with the disciples when about to leave our world, and in a few minutes we should be treading the very road which had been pressed by His footsteps. I felt that the place was to me holy ground.
We recollect Cowper's lines:—
"It happened on a solemn eventide,
Soon after He, who was our Surety, died,
Two bosom friends, each pensively inclined.
The scene of all those sorrows left behind,
Sought their own village, busied as they went
In musings worthy of the great event.
They thought Him, and they justly thought Him, one
Sent to do more than He appeared to have done—
To exalt a people, and to place them high
Above all else, and wondered He should die!
Ere yet they brought their journey to an end,
A stranger joined them, courteous as a friend,
And asked them with a kind, engaging air,
What their affliction was, and begged a share.
Informed, He gathered up the broken thread
And, truth and wisdom gracing all He said,
Explained, illustrated, and searched so well
The tender theme on which they chose to dwell,
That, reaching home, 'the night,' they said, 'is near,
We must not now be parted—sojourn here.'
The new acquaintance soon became a guest.
And, made so welcome at their simple feast,
He blessed the bread, but vanished at the word,
And left them both exclaiming,' 'Tis the Lord!' "
Full of such thoughts we pressed onwards along the rugged road towards the sacred city, and entered its gates just before sunset.
- ↑ The early release of our party proved a great disappointment to the doctor, who, notwithstanding his attentions above stated, really expected to make a very handsome thing out of us—five Englishmen. Owing, however, to Mr. Schapira's interference we were not allowed to pay more than was legally due, amounting to 53½ dollars, the sum originally demanded being 20 dollars for each of the five travellers, and 10 to 15 dollars for each of the attendants and muleteers. They also wanted us to pay for the use of our own tents, and for the custody of our baggage which we had in the camp!
- ↑ The sandhills are clearly marked on the Ordnance Map of Western Palestine.
- ↑ On the origin of these remarkable sand-hills, I shall have a good deal to say when I come to deal with the geology of this part of the country. I may here briefly state that I consider the sands to have been previously derived from the disintegration of the sandstone of Philistia, and their accumulation by the winds to be consequent on the elevation of the coast-line and the sea-bed.
- ↑ "Tent Work in Palestine," p. 281. The author states that the sands are advancing year by year, and having climbed over the southern walls are destroying the fruitful gardens on that side of the city.
- ↑ The traditional "House of Simon the Tanner" overlooks the breakwater; it is now used as a small mosque.
- ↑ "Voyage d'Exploration de la Mar Morte," Vol. III, chap. x, p. 198, &c.
- ↑ According to Baedeker, "Palestine and Syria," p. 133.
- ↑ Acts ix, 36.
- ↑ By our conductor, B. Heilpern.
- ↑ Conder, "Tent Work in Palestine," p. 140.