Start for Jerusalem. Appearance of our Cavalcade. Djerid play near
Jaffa. Plain of Sharon. Night ride. Ramla. The Cadi’s theory about
Earthquakes. Beth-Horon. Entrance to the Hill-Country. Aboo Ghoosh.
David’s Brook. First view of Jerusalem. Difficulty in getting
accommodations. Greek Monastery. Distressful night.
Our joy at finding all obstacles removed, and that we were actually
going to visit Jerusalem, was great indeed. The visit had been a
subject of pleasing anticipation from the beginning of the cruise,
and a disappointment here would have cast a damp upon all our other
pleasures. But here we were at last, ashore at Jaffa, mounted and ready
to be off; every face cheerful, and our hearts swelling with expected
enjoyment. We wound through the low bazaar, and then slipping and
stumbling over the execrable pavement of the gateway, found ourselves
out in the country, and fairly on our way. And here we turned to look
at each other, and enjoy the oddity and grotesqueness of the scene. We
were, indeed, a curious looking set of pilgrims. As we arrived ashore,
there was a general scrambling for the animals, which, by orders of
the governor of Jaffa, had been brought in from the country for the
occasion; and as these included every variety, and there was little
time for choosing, it was amusing to see the mal-agreement which often
occurred between man and beast. A stout and heavy man might be seen
sweating and toiling along on the back of one of the most diminutive of
donkeys; a graceful cavalier, who prided himself on his horsemanship,
and had selected what appeared to be a fine-looking Arab, found himself
on an asthmatic animal, which neither whip nor the pins stuck into his
boots for lack of spurs, could force from a sluggish walk. Then came
along a young midshipman, on a streak of lightning, clinging to the
mane or saddle, and agape to find himself in a situation where his
superior officers, and even the Commodore, were glad to yield the deck
to him. His horse, brought up on the wild hills, is unconscious how
sadly he is violating naval etiquette; and away they go, till a turn
in the road hides them from our sight. “Give my Jack a punch,” cries
one, “the nasty beast, I can’t get him to move;” while at the act,
Jack suddenly finds the use of his hinder quarters, and the puncher,
from being a grave-looking personage, suddenly takes to hopping and
singing, and working his features into the oddest grimace. Some of our
company had no animals at all, and others were debating whether they
had not better leave those they had; while the animals themselves stood
straight up to second the motion. My friend M----, thinking perhaps
that necessity hath no law, stepped up coolly to a horse fastened to
a bit of shrubbery, and having loosed him, and thrown his Turkey rug
over the saddle, seated himself on the top of it; concluding, with good
reason, that the owner would soon be after him, and that he could
then, perhaps, make a bargain for the beast. It turned out that the
horse belonged to a soldier going our way, and who, on promise of a
_bakshish_, or present, agreed to this impudent arrangement; but the
next morning horse and soldier were missing, and with them the fine,
large Turkey rug,--showing how universally we may apply the counsel,
“set a rogue to catch a rogue.”
Amid this scene of confusion, the general attention was directed to the
family group at the head of the party, a group respected and beloved by
all of us; and it was gratifying, in the cheerful looks of the ladies,
to find that they were rather amused than dismayed by the necessary
discomforts of this new kind of travelling. We got, by and by, into
pretty good order, and moved cheerily on. Our company consisted of the
Commodore, lady, and three daughters, the consul and lady, thirty-six
lieutenants, midshipmen, &c., twelve petty officers and servants; and
muleteers in addition sufficient to make a party in all, of more than
seventy persons.
Nearly every individual was armed, and our warlike accoutrements,
as well as the rest of our fitting out, had a broad dash of the
picturesque.
While we were getting ready for a move, an old seaman came up to me,
and begged hard that I would get him permission to accompany us. “Why,
W----,” I replied, “I don’t see what reason I can give for it that
fifty others might not urge, and besides, you have no donkey--you
see every thing with four legs to it is already taken up.” “Oh,”
he replied, “ask to allow me to walk by ---- and take care of the
sedan; and as to a donkey, I don’t need one, I am willing to walk
all the way.” I succeeded in the application, and had forgotten the
circumstance, till one day, eighteen months after, when the crew had
been discharged, W---- came up to me on the wharf at Norfolk, and,
taking my hand, said I had conferred a favor on him which he would
remember to the last day of his life. I asked him what it was: “Oh,” he
replied, “you got me permission to go to Jerusalem.”
When I returned from the Holy City, I brought back a quantity of olive
root from the Mount of Olives, and giving it to the carpenter on board
ship to saw it up, on going to the bench, I found the seamen around,
catching the sawdust, and picking the earth from the holes among the
roots. So strong was the feeling of interest with which the proximity
of the city had inspired us.
It may be supposed, then, that we wound along among the gardens of
Jaffa with cheerful alacrity. The road is sandy and toilsome, but
is bordered with shrubbery interwoven with the huge cactus, and gay
flowers were pendant on every side. We had left the city at 4 P. M.;
and the sun, now throwing its rays slantingly among the blossoms and
foliage, gave them their richest effect. About a mile from the walls we
came to a Turkish fountain, about twenty feet in height, and highly
ornamented. The road bends at this place, and soon after ascends a
range of low hills, where cultivation ceases, and the traveller finds
himself in the open country, without enclosure or habitation in sight.
A number of the European consuls, and other gentlemen resident in
Jaffa, had done us the honor to accompany us thus far. They were
mounted on fine spirited Arabs, and now driving the shovel-shaped
stirrup into their horses’ sides, flew up the hill side, and at length,
brought at the summit in bold relief against the sky, they formed a
picture such as is seen only in these glowing eastern countries. They
wore the native costume, presenting a variety of brilliant and fanciful
colors; and in this case the dress was perfectly clean, and evidently
put on with careful and studied effect. Having presently reached a
level piece of ground, they scattered, and commenced the djerid, a play
in which the Arabs greatly delight, and which is adapted to bring out
the powers both of horse and rider, and show them to fine advantage.
Each horseman is furnished with a stick of some tough material, four or
five feet in length, and of the thickness of the middle finger; they
divide about equally, and each selecting an opponent, the effort is to
strike the adversary with the rod. In doing this they pursue each other
at the top of the horse’s speed, often bring him to a halt so suddenly
as to throw him on his haunches, whirl at an instant’s warning, hang
by the leg and arm so as to avoid the whizzing rod, catch it in the
air, or, while the horse is at full speed, snatch it from the ground,
and turning, become the pursuer till the rod is discharged, or the
adversary has again recovered one in his turn. It is an exciting and
highly animated sport, and was kept up on the large plain, now on our
right, now on the left, till one or two of the company became provoked
by some well-dealt blows, and the play began to look serious; while
a few showed by their soiled dresses that they had come in closer
contact with the ground than was pleasant. Kind feeling was, however,
soon restored by some smart hits in return, and the play wound up in
good-humor; after which, our Arab guide, with his long, slender spear,
once more putting himself at the head of our party, our friends wheeled
their steeds, and having made a graceful salaam, darted over the hill
on their return to Jaffa, and were soon out of sight.
We were now fairly on the celebrated _Plain of Sharon_; but times have
sadly changed, and we might have looked in vain for roses or any other
shrub. The road laid through a country not absolutely flat, and yet
scarcely undulating; with scarcely a tree, and no where presenting
any sign of cultivation. Towards sunset, however, we found ourselves
approaching an olive grove, beyond which, on our left, was a wretched
looking village of ten or a dozen houses; also a ruin of large
dimensions, which we had not time to examine. Beyond this the country
assumed the same open and deserted appearance; and, except a fountain
which we passed a few miles onward, there was nothing to show that it
was the habitation of men. Darkness, by and by, began to fall around
us, we drew our company into a more compact form, and having examined
our arms, passed on in silence; a spirit of sadness and musing, excited
probably by the melancholy nature of the country, having apparently
seized on the whole of our party.
We were now in what was formerly the territory of the tribe of Dan,
their possessions, I believe, having extended from the sea inward to a
distance of thirty miles, and about twelve from north to south. Of Dan,
it was said by his father Jacob, that he was “a serpent by the way, an
adder in the path, that biteth the horse-heels, so that his rider shall
fall back.” And the position which long afterwards fell by lot to this
tribe, appears to have been adapted to produce or to cherish such a
trait of character.
Two thirds of the great highway from Jerusalem to its sea-port Joppa,
laid through their territory; and the long winding ravine by which this
road ascends from the plain of Sharon into the mountainous region that
encircles Jerusalem, affords admirable facilities for plundering. Until
very recently, the upper extremity of this ravine was occupied by Aboo
Ghoosh, at the head of a set of daring fellows, who regularly laid
contributions on travellers; while a village near the other extremity
bore no better reputation. Dr. Clarke’s baggage was seized upon, and
carried to the latter town, where he had great difficulty in recovering
it; and, more recently, the French traveller, De la Martine, found it
prudent by judicious means to secure in season the good favor of Aboo
Ghoosh. This robber-chief, whose power extended over a large tract of
country, and was well systematized, has recently been appointed by the
Pasha of Egypt to a high office in Jerusalem; and we saw him on our
visit enthroned in his new state, where he seems ill at ease. Mohammed
Ali has thus removed a nuisance and secured a powerful friend; but it
is not probable that his robber-propensities will be greatly checked by
these new dignities.
When shall this desert region rejoice and blossom as the rose, and
when shall we be able to speak of “the excellency of Carmel and
Sharon?”--“The highways” now “lie waste, and the wayfaring man
ceaseth; Lebanon is ashamed and hewn down, and Sharon is like a
wilderness.”--Though it is sad to look at a plain like this of Sharon,
about eighty miles in length by twenty in width, and of extensive
fertility, and bordering also on the sea, yet now little more than a
desert waste; though sad, there is nothing very remarkable in it, for
it is the character of many such plains in Asia; but there is something
very remarkable when we think of this country in connexion with the
strange people whose father-land it is, a people who are over the
whole face of our globe, an astonishment, a proverb, and a by-word;
turning ever with warm desires towards the home of their fathers; yet
still “scattered among all people, from one end of the earth to the
other,” and among them finding no ease nor rest, but distressed “with
a trembling heart and failing of eyes, and sorrow of mind”--outcasts
every where, the “heaven over their head is brass, and the earth under
their feet is iron.” I do not see how a man can read the 28th chapter
of Deuteronomy, and be satisfied that it was written at the time it
purports to be, and yet remain an infidel; and that it was written at
that time, is a matter capable of very easy proof. I have seen the Jews
in a great many countries; and if we were to sit down to describe their
condition, we could not find terms to express it more accurately than
is done in that chapter, penned 3287 years ago.
About nine o’clock we discovered lights ahead, and heard the barking
of dogs, and soon after entered Ramla, the ancient Arimathea, which
was to be our stopping-place for the night. Here, to our surprise,
we found also an agent of our government, a vice-consul appointed by
the consul at Jaffa, to whom, I believe, he had paid a consideration
for the office. He was an Armenian gentleman, apparently wealthy, and
certainly kind and hospitable. Our arrival had been expected, and every
thing grateful to hungry and wearied pilgrims had been provided. Tables
were loaded with fowls and mutton, and with the delicious water-melons
of Jaffa, as well as abundance of other fruits, and with wine. When
our large company had all been fed, such conveniences as the house
afforded for sleeping were freely given up to us; our host all the
while sitting unobtrusively at one side of the eating room, and seldom
speaking, except to order additional supplies of refreshments. However,
Mon. Damon, the consul at Jaffa, who with his lady had come with us, in
order that the credit for the entertainment might not be lost, took it
all to himself; bustling about, and telling us that the house was his
own, that he had provided the feast, and bidding us welcome. I am happy
to be able to add, that through the influence of Commodore Patterson,
this gentleman, Mr. Marcus Abers, has since received an appointment
independent of the consulate at Jaffa. We received, with the freedom of
sailors, what was so freely and generously offered; and when, in the
morning, our caterer, after some hesitation on the score of delicacy,
offered remuneration, as the company was so large and miscellaneous, it
was declined, and the party was cordially invited to repeat the visit
on our return.
Ramla has at present little to detain a traveller, though it was
formerly a city of considerable dimensions; its population now is about
3,000, principally Mahommedans and Christians of the Greek church. At
the borders on the western side, thirty miles from Jerusalem, are some
vast subterranean apartments belonging to the ancient times of the
city. One is one hundred and fifty feet long by forty in width, and
is twenty-five feet deep; the second and third are each seventy feet
square, and of the same depth as the former. Adjoining the second,
is a tower twenty-five feet square, and still one hundred feet in
height, and a conspicuous object at a great distance on the plain. Our
time did not admit of a visit to these ruins, and for the dimensions
I am indebted to Mr. Thompson, by whom they have been described.
Mr. Thompson was at Ramla during the recent earthquake, and heard a
debate on its causes by the learned men of the city; The Cadi, or
Judge, spoke at last, and with gravity suitable to his high station,
gave his solution of the phenomenon. “The earth,” he said, “has seven
foundations; the first, water; second, air; third, a mountain; fourth,
a cushion; fifth, (Mr. T. does not recollect;) sixth, a great rock;
and seventh, the horn of the great ox. When the ox becomes fatigued,
he changes the rock from one horn to the other, and that caused the
shaking.”
After some slight refreshment, at an early hour on the 16th we resumed
our journey, and soon found ourselves once more breathing the country
air. We passed some ruins on our right just after leaving the city, and
also, soon after this, a company of about 200 cavalry at drill on the
plain. Our road, I ought to have remarked before this, was not directly
across the plain, but in a slanting direction, Jerusalem being situated
a little to the south of east from Jaffa. The distance from Ramla is
thirty miles. We descended two or three steep banks, separated from
each other by intervals of several miles, and thus arrived, at length,
at the lowest level of the plain, which appears to consist of this
level, and, on the west of it, of a succession of terraces, each about
forty feet in height, and three or four miles in width. The country,
during our morning ride, was not of so melancholy a cast as on the day
previous, patches of millet or indian corn occurring here and there,
with other signs of cultivation; but the sun now beat upon us with
scorching power. About ten o’clock we passed a miserable village close
on our left, and an hour after, a cone-shaped eminence on our right,
with some ruins, supposed to be the remains of Beth-Horon, noticed in 2
Chron. viii. 5. 1 Samuel, xiii. 18.[14]
The hill is about 400 feet in height, and in most parts is of
difficult ascent; it was well adapted for defence, and the extensive
and massive ruins on the top show that it was a place of considerable
strength. This was probably the _upper_ city: for the site of the
“Nether-Beth-Horon,” we must look among the broken ground that skirts
the lower part of the eminence. This was a place of importance, as
it commands the entrance of the winding ravine, along which the road
ascends from the plain into the mountainous district, or what is called
in the first chapter of John, the “hill country” of Judea.
The entrance into this ravine is about two miles east from Beth-Horon;
and as it stood gaping before us, with the mountains on either side
towering to a great height, while the representations of travellers
had led us to expect beyond it only mountains, still darker and more
dreary, we turned some reluctant looks backward towards the plain. The
roads over these mountains we had been also informed by Mr. Damon, were
the worst possible; but in this latter respect we were to meet with
an agreeable disappointment. One of the consuls at Jaffa, a merchant,
(I believe the Sardinian consul,) in order to divert the trade of the
Mecca and Jerusalem caravans from Damascus to his own city, had lately
put the road in excellent order. In many places he had blasted rocks,
and at others had built up walls; the operation had been an expensive
one, and the enterprise of the gentleman merits a better reward than I
am afraid it will receive.
As we were entering the ravine, we met a company of Egyptian soldiers;
and, further on, in a narrow part, encountered a much larger force,
returning to the west. They had with them a great number of camels
loaded with baggage and accoutrements, and often with field-pieces,
some of the latter (brass six pounders) being lashed to spars which
were fastened to the backs of two camels, one before the other. The
soldiers, though the balance of power was greatly on their side, were
very civil; and in no instance showed a disposition to offer annoyance,
or give us unnecessary trouble. It was in this pass that the Roman
army, under Cestius, were almost totally destroyed.
We found the ascent up to the ravine, though long, yet far from being
toilsome. At the summit, at a spot commanding a view of all the plain
of Sharon and the sea beyond, we stopped in an olive grove for dinner.
This was near the village of the ex-robber, prince Aboo Ghoosh; but a
change has come over the country under the sovereignty of Mohammed Ali,
for the people did not even come to look at us.
Descending again, we passed, at the bottom of a valley, a village, on
the borders of which is a large church belonging to the time of the
crusades. A more desolate scene than presented itself as we wound up
the hills beyond this village cannot be easily imagined. The rocks in
all this region are secondary limestone, and the hills, consequently,
are rounded, presenting few bold peaks or precipitous ridges; but all
was gray rock from the bottom to the summit, and the senses became
pained by the gloomy monotony of the scene, a wide and dreary waste of
bare rocks. By and by, descending again, we found ourselves in a valley
watered by a rivulet, and with some fields and a vineyard; but soon
plunged again into the same succession of bare rocky hills, where not
a tree nor shrub was to be seen, and not a living thing, except a bird
now and then whirling in its solitary flight. A steep descent brought
us at length into the narrow defile where occurred the battle between
Ibrahim Pasha and the rebels already noticed; and skeletons of horses
were still scattered, by the road side. This pass is also a favorite
haunt of robbers; particularly at a spot where a bridge crosses a dry
channel which winds through the bottom of the valley.--_Siste viator._
This channel, now dry, but covered by a considerable stream in winter,
is that from which David selected pebbles for his sling when going to
meet Goliath; I believe, however, this event occurred some distance
further down. We passed this bridge on our return an hour before
daylight; and, as we approached, an officer of the Pasha’s household
who accompanied us, made the party halt and form into compact order;
and then had the bridge reconnoitred before he allowed us to proceed.
There was no one there, but further on, at the battle ground, a strange
horseman rode up and passed us several times, as if scrutinizing our
company, and others were seen on the other side of the glen; but
apparently they did not like our equipment, as they gave us no further
trouble.
Having crossed this bridge, we were now in constant expectation of
getting sight of Jerusalem; and as we approached the summit of a long
hill, our caterer, Lieutenant S----, made the officers in the van fall
back, so that Mrs. Patterson might be the first to advance and catch a
view of the sacred city. But we were to be disappointed; it was not in
sight, and these disappointments occurred so often, that at length we
grew less earnest in our look out ahead. Evening was fast approaching,
and just as distant objects were beginning to grow indistinct, a
sudden rise on the road brought to view some white buildings far off,
and a little to our left. A sudden cry of “Jerusalem” burst from the
foremost, and all hurried forward to enjoy the welcome sight; again,
however, we were mistaken. But, a few minutes after this, while we were
gazing at the objects just described, and debating whether they were
the sacred city or not, a long white wall, with battlements and towers,
presented itself suddenly right before us; and then arose a general
cry of joyful surprise--_for this we knew to be Jerusalem_. I believe
there was not one of us who was not affected with powerful emotions;
and among these feelings was generally a sensation of pleasing surprise
at the imposing appearance of the city; for whether it was owing to its
contrast to the small group of houses we had been looking at, or to the
manner in which it bursts upon us in a dreary desert, or whether there
was sufficient cause for this in the city itself, I cannot say; but the
first impression was certainly a very favorable one.
The city, as viewed from the west, presents a stretch of wall about two
thirds of a mile in length, battlemented and strengthened with numerous
towers, and, at the Jaffa gate, which is midway along, fortified with
heavy castles. South of this gate, the walls stand on the edge of a
ravine or valley sixty feet in depth and two hundred feet wide, and at
this part, particularly, the effect is very bold and striking. As we
approached, battlement and turret were here thrown out into strong
relief against the clear evening sky.
This was our first view and first impression of Jerusalem. To myself,
however, little time was given for observation. The Commodore
called for me; and telling me that as this was a city in the line
of my profession, they must look to me to provide quarters for the
company--said he wished me to ride forward rapidly, and see where
we could find accommodations. So I changed my humble donkey for a
spirited steed, and taking for interpreter a young Arab officer who
had accompanied us from Jaffa, set forward at a pace that made us
look more like crusading knights at a tilt than peaceable pilgrims.
The gates, which are usually closed at sunset, we found were kept
open in expectation of the arrival of our party, and a large number
of citizens were standing in groups without. On our drawing up and
inquiring the way to the house of Mr. Nicholayson, the missionary from
England, he himself stept forward and gave us a hearty welcome. His
house he immediately placed at our disposal, but on his inquiring how
many there might be in the party, and receiving my answer, “I think
about seventy,” he stood aghast. A company of seven or a dozen, the
number as he had supposed our company, he could readily accommodate,
and his house was cordially at our service for as many as it would
hold; but where to find accommodations for seventy he could not tell,
some of the monasteries, the usual resort of pilgrims, being now, he
said, in quarantine on account of the plague. We turned into the city,
however, to make an effort; and crossing an irregular open area, and
then winding down some dark narrow streets, stopped at length at a low
gate in the face of a high massy wall. It admitted us into the chief
Latin convent; but the Prior, on our being presented, said that nearly
all the building was in quarantine, some of the monks having recently
died of the plague, and that an adjacent establishment belonging to his
order was in a similar situation. Foiled here, we proceeded on a little
further, and on applying, though with reluctance, at the Greek convent,
were successful; their large building, forming a hollow square with a
court in the centre, being given up to us. We returned forthwith, and
found that our company had already entered the city, and in attempting
to follow us, had got jammed up in one of the narrow streets, where a
scene of vexatious and yet amusing confusion was just commencing; the
baggage mules with their broad panniers and projecting loads sticking
fast between the opposite houses, and, in their efforts to extricate
themselves, taking little note of rank or office; while torches
glancing here and there upon pistol and cutlass, and the dusty, and
jaded, and sometimes disconsolate looking features of our companions,
mixed up with the wild and curious gaze of the natives, assisted in
making up a singular scene. They had just learned the result of our
application at the Latin convent; and to a wearied man, the idea of
passing the night in such rough and odoriferous streets as these,
could not be a pleasing one. They were highly gratified to find that
we had at length been able to procure quarters. The Commodore and his
family were invited to the house of Mr. Nicholayson, where, among the
kind and agreeable members of his family, they soon found themselves
in a pleasant home; while the rest of us, passing through the low
strong portal of the convent, and emerging by and by from the dark
narrow passage, into the enclosed court, turned to see what species of
accommodation we were to have. The prospect seemed melancholy enough.
Around the court was a range of buildings, three fourths of which were
given up to us, the remaining fourth being occupied by the Prior’s
rooms and offices of the church, and by the church itself. The lower
part of our portion of the edifice was occupied as stables, kitchen,
granary, &c.; and gave also accommodation to some of our party.
Ascending from this by a large stairway, we entered on a platform
passing around three sides of the court, with a parapet along its
interior edge, while on its opposite border was a range of cells, which
we found on inquiry were to be our dormitories. Tired as we were, we
recoiled from the sight of them. They were usually about eight or nine
feet square, and so low that a person could scarcely stand upright in
them; a broken door, a hole for a window, a stone or mortar floor, and
a thin reed mat, and dust in the greatest abundance--this was the
sight that presented itself as we came to examine our domicils. Some
joked, some took it all in quiet, and some said “it was really too
bad.” But uncomfortable as these abodes appeared to us, other creatures
did not seem to think them so, for they were really well tenanted; and
when our lights were extinguished, and we had wrapped ourselves each
in his blanket, and had stretched ourselves on the stone floor, we
soon discovered how far from solitary was the life of our friends the
monks. Our chambers were alive with lilliputians, which immediately
commenced an attack on us. As D., and S., and myself, were lying in our
little room, we first heard some notes of distress on the outside, and
occasionally an exclamation of “Hollo, are you out here too?” and then
there was a general cry--“I can’t bear this any longer;” and we rushed
out to the platform to which we found every cell ejecting its inmates.
We did not get asleep until nature, towards morning, was absolutely
worn out, when the fleas, having worried us into utter exhaustion, were
allowed to gorge themselves at their leisure. The reader may perhaps
think that I might have spared him this scene, which is not a pleasant
one, and must jar on the feelings of one who would come with other
sensations, and be occupied with other thoughts, in this city of solemn
and touching associations; but my impression is, that he would like to
see the modern city as it is, and I wish also, as far as possible, to
make him also a traveller, and carry him along with us; this is no
exaggerated picture of our first night, and may be taken as a sample
of the rest. Jerusalem, however, is not alone in this; but the whole
of this region, from the cataracts of the Nile to Constantinople, is
teeming with fleas. We thought, however, that this city was peculiarly
infested with them, and were informed that in the most cleanly houses,
no care could keep any part of the building free from them.
The night passed away at length, and ushered in a brilliant dawn, such
as is not often seen except in these eastern countries, where the thin
and scanty exhalations are just sufficient, without obscuring any
portions of the landscape, to tinge all with roseate and purple hues.
FOOTNOTE:
[14] See also Josephus, Bell. Jud., Lib. II. chap. xix. § 2 and 8.