Our next stopping place was Jaffa, the port of Jerusalem. The water at
the landing is very rough, but the sturdy natives jump into the boats and
show rare skill in handling the passengers, tossing them round like sheep
into safe spots of vantage in the large boats used for disembarkation.
Jaffa has a population of 35,000. It is celebrated for its fine oranges,
which grow in profusion about the city to the extent of 8,000,000 oranges
every year. It has fine trains of camels, and 15,000 pilgrims to the
Holy Land pass through it annually, many of them Russian pilgrims. It
costs them about $60 to make the trip, and many of them spend their lives
in saving this money for the purpose. The railroad to Jerusalem is
fifty-four miles long. Simon the tanner was born here; his house was
supposed to be on the hillside, but another house farther down the hill
at the water-front was agreed on by those financially interested, so as
to have something notable to show the visitor just as he stepped from the
gang-plank. A guide said to us, pointing out a thirty-year old fig tree:
"Dar is de feeg tree de great man preech under all dose years ago; long
time, ain't it?"
The streets are narrow and crooked, no room for vehicles, so we had to
trek about two miles to the railroad station, the baggage being sent
there by teams. After getting on the train we ran through orange, fig,
olive, lemon, pomegranate and date groves, then over a great flat,
fertile plain, the Plain of Sharon, fifty miles long and averaging eight
miles wide, ploughed by camels, oxen and horses. This gave way to lands
not so good, but covered by a great variety of flowers, followed by stony
patches, and finally by ranges of bare, rocky mountains with but little
vegetation on them and quite forbidding and desolate in their appearance;
but every mile was historic ground. We were shown the town said to be
the Arimathea of the New Testament, and the Crusaders' Tower, one hundred
and twenty feet high. Here Samuel was a judge and Israel asked for a
king. Then the Hill of Gezer, with ruins of the old city presented to
Solomon by Pharaoh as a dowry for his daughter. Now we see Zorah, the
birthplace of Samson, where the Ark was held up by the Philistines before
they returned it to the Israelites, fearing it would bring a curse on
them, and also where he tied burning brands to the foxes' tails so as to
set fire to the ripening crops.
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE OF OMAR, JERUSALEM--"THE FINEST BUILDING IN THE
EAST." THE TURKS AND MOHAMMEDANS WASH THEIR FEET IN THE DRINKING
FOUNTAINS HERE, BUT THAT, OF COURSE, IS A MERE DETAIL. IT CLEARLY SHOWS,
HOWEVER, THE COURAGEOUS FREEDOM AND _SANS SOUCI_ OF THE PEOPLE]
Farther along we come to Bittir, so strongly fortified that it took the
Romans three years to capture it, costing them the lives lost in the
horrible massacre described in the Talmud--one of the largest in all
history.
And now the train stops at Jerusalem. This railroad is a tiny affair,
and the officials marked up the class of some of its carriages by
painting out one numeral from "II," leaving it a "I" class carriage, thus
turning a second into a first just to keep up the spirit of deception
that is the potent atmosphere of the Holy Land. But we were in Jerusalem
and didn't care a rap, even though the varnish on the seats was wet and
we were stuck to them like limpets to a rock in the sea.
It was quite a strain on the Holy City to take care of such a crowd, but
all was well managed and we were comfortably stowed away somewhere (many
in convents), and only the most confirmed "kickers" could offer any fair
objection to the arrangements.