THE HOLY RAILWAY TO MECCA
While the majority of railways are constructed to meet the exigencies
of commerce, and occasionally from considerations of military strategy,
there is one striking instance of a line being built expressly for
religious purposes. This is the Hedjaz railway, which stretches its
sinuous, glittering arm of steel from Damascus for nearly 1000 miles
southwards through the inhospitable deserts of Palestine and Arabia to
Mecca and Medina, the sacred cities of the Moslem faith. The railway
was built entirely by Mahommedans for Mahommedans, every penny required
for the scheme being subscribed by the members of this vast sect.
Every member of the Faithful cherishes one ambition in life--to make
the “Hadj,” or Sacred Journey to the cradle and shrine of the Prophet.
A few years ago this was an undertaking from which all but those
blinded by religious fervour shrank. The journey had to be completed
afoot, by camel or caravan, according to the financial status of the
pilgrim; but whatever method of transit was favoured, the self-same
dangers prevailed, though obviously they were experienced most severely
by those who were compelled to have recourse to Shanks’ Pony.
The route extended through practically uninhabited, sterile plains,
upon which the sun beat down mercilessly, and the heat overhead was
only equalled by that reflected from the glaring sand, which blistered
the feet and imparted a fiery, maddening thirst. Food and water had to
be carried by the pilgrim, because no sustenance could be obtained by
the wayside. Even the welcome oases, with their refreshing, cooling
rills and pools of water beneath the shade of the palms, are few and
far between.
To the dangers of hunger, thirst and physical exhaustion there had to
be included those from the attacks of the marauding Bedouins, who hung
on the sides of the overland route, ever on the look-out to despoil
the traveller. These brigands were most daring and ferocious in their
depredations. They robbed the pilgrim of all he possessed, and if his
poverty resulted in a meagre reward for their attack, they bludgeoned
him mercilessly for not being better provided with this world’s goods,
and left him bleeding and dying in the sun.
Every year hundreds of pilgrims paid the penalty for their zeal. They
set out from Damascus on their mission of duty and faith never to
return. So powerless was the Ottoman Government that these relentless
nomads pursued their life of brigandage and preying on the pilgrims
unchecked and without fear of punishment.
The Hedjaz railway was conceived in order to remove these perils and
privations. When the Sultan published the details of his idea it was
hailed with unalloyed enthusiasm by every Mahommedan throughout the
world, and one and all contributed towards the furtherance of the
scheme.
The fulfilment of this enterprise will always rank as a magnificent
achievement in the romance of railway engineering; the methods by
which the numerous obstacles were broken down as they arose contribute
fascinating incidents to a thrilling story. When it is remembered that
approximately 1000 miles of metals had to be laid through some of
the most sterile and difficult country on the globe; that some 4000
bridges, viaducts and tunnels had to be built to span rushing rivers,
yawning chasms, and to penetrate precipitous bluffs; that sudden drops
had to be made from highlands to valleys, and equally steep ascents
from depressions to plateaus, then a faint idea of the formidable
character of the undertaking may be gathered.
[Illustration:
_Photo, Helladjian_]
A STRIKING PIECE OF RAILWAY BUILDING IN THE YARMUK GORGE
The railway track is hewn out of the cliff, swings round the head of
the gorge and reappears on the opposite side.]
For months the constructional engineers were buried in the midst of the
biting, scorching and driving sand, quite isolated from the outside
world, the clang of the tools being the only sound breaking a silence
so intense that it could be felt. Occasionally the news filtered
through that the implacable nomads roaming the sweltering plains had
swooped down upon the camps and that a desperate hand-to-hand struggle
had been waged. Minute details were not vouchsafed, for such incidents
became so frequent as to become monotonous.
[Illustration: A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF A CHASM IN PALESTINE, THROUGH WHICH
THE LINE FOLLOWS A WINDING PATH ON THE LEFT]
[Illustration:
_Photos, Helladjian_]
A MASONRY BRIDGE ON THE HOLY RAILWAY, SHOWING SOLIDITY OF CONSTRUCTION
AND MOUNTAINOUS CHARACTER OF THE COUNTRY]
Yet the authorities scarcely anticipated that these marauders would
wage such a relentless war against the advance of the railway as did
eventually come to pass. Yet it was not surprising. The Bedouins
realised that the completion of the railway would bring their life of
pillage and murder to an end, and accordingly they challenged every
foot of its advance. Sometimes they won, massacred the encampment, and
destroyed the line for some distance; at others they lost and were
routed right and left. The story of the Mahdi’s opposition to the
British penetration of Egypt was repeated in Palestine and Arabia,
only, if anything, with more determined fury. The soldiers worked with
their arms beside them, and protected by a line of guards thrown out
some distance around the railhead.
The military commandant was given a free hand to keep back the savage
tribes in such a manner as he considered expedient, in order to permit
the engineers to lay the metals as fast as possible, and without fear
of being molested. When the work was inaugurated the Turkish Government
appointed a strong man to the command of the protective troops. It was
a responsible and dangerous position, for the authorities recognised
from bitter experience the implacable fury of these tribesmen when
fully roused. Field-Marshal Kaisim Pasha was appointed to the military
directorship, and he proved the right man in the right place. His
reputation and grim determination to subdue lawlessness were well known
to the bandits, and the Government hoped that his appointment to the
protection of the enterprise would strike terror into the hearts of the
Bedouins. But far from it. It appeared to urge them to greater daring,
and they hung on his flanks relentlessly, cutting off stragglers
ruthlessly, and keeping him constantly on the alert. The Field-Marshal
was kept in a state of perpetual anxiety, because he never knew upon
which side or where he would be attacked next. Brushes were almost of
daily occurrence, and the success of one side or the other fluctuated
like a barometer.
Once the nomads caught Kaisim Pasha at a heavy disadvantage. The
navvies and engineers were busy at work as usual on the permanent
way, with the military outpost thrown well out on all sides. Suddenly
there was a savage, heart-rending yell, and the desert became alive
with the swarthy, active and powerful, infuriated bandits. In an
irresistible wave they swept down upon the railhead. The outposts stood
their ground, but they were overwhelmed in the rush. The Field-Marshal
hurriedly called one and all to arms. The navvies threw down their
hammers, pick-axes, shovels, and other tools, grabbed their rifles, and
supported the soldiers. But there was no stemming that savage, rushing
horde. The tribesmen fanatically threw themselves upon the position,
and to such advantage that the commander was compelled to retire,
leaving 100 dead upon the field.
Construction was arrested completely for a time. The bandits, inspired
with their initial success, hung about, and at the slightest attempt
at a sally, concentrated and bore down, driving the soldiers back. The
situation became so critical that Kaisim Pasha determined to teach the
nomads a severe lesson once and for all. He hurriedly sent home for
reinforcements, together with ten battalions of artillery, which were
despatched post-haste to his assistance.
When his forces were strengthened sufficiently he issued forth, and in
turn caught the nomads by surprise. The soldiers, who had been chafing
under the reverse they had suffered and their prolonged inability to
revenge their fallen comrades, seized the opportunity and carried home
the attack with spirited energy. For a time the bandits stood their
ground, offering a stubborn resistance. The artillery shelled them
out of their entrenchments, and the modern machine-guns and magazine
rifles so swept them down when they ventured into the open, that at
last they broke their ranks and fled in disorder. The Turks pursued
and scattered their enemy to the four winds. The Bedouin losses were
tremendous, and their ranks were cut up so completely, and their
organisation was so crushed, that no further concerted action was taken
to dispute the advance of the line to Mecca. Occasionally raids were
made upon stations and completed sections, but such attacks were found
to be attributable to independent, irresponsible units. Comparative
tranquillity prevailed until the last division connecting the sacred
cities with the Red Sea was taken in hand, and then one day the
tribesmen made another raid, wiping out the whole of the constructional
forces.
When the line was commenced, H. Meissner Pasha, the enterprising German
engineer selected to carry out the scheme, was given simply the two
terminals of the line--Damascus and Mecca--roughly 1000 miles apart,
and instructed to connect them by rail as best he could. It is to
Meissner Pasha, therefore, that the full credit of carrying the line
to success must be extended, for upon his shoulders fell the brunt
of the work. He had to plot its path, had to be at the railhead to
evolve a solution for a problem as it arose, and had to force his way
through, over, or around obstacles as they confronted him. In this task
he displayed considerable ingenuity and resource, while he appeared to
be possessed of tireless energy. The handling of huge corps of men of
varying nationalities--Turks, Montenegrins, Greeks, Cretans, Bedouins,
and so on--was no simple matter in itself, but he possessed the happy
faculty of infusing all who worked under him with his own enthusiasm
and ambition to get the line completed in the shortest possible time.
In addition to these duties of an essentially technical character, he
had to attend to every want of his workmen. Every drop of water, every
ounce of food, of stores, provisions, fuel and so forth had to be
hauled over enormous distances, and in the depths of the desert the
work of maintaining these supplies became stupendous. Owing to his
splendid organisation, however, his most advanced outposts never once
ran short of any of the necessaries of life.
The monumental features of Meissner Pasha’s constructional ingenuity,
however, are illustrated in the remarkable series of tunnels, bridges,
loops and windings by which the railway is carried through the Yarmuk
valley in Palestine between the Jordan and Deraa, and the negotiation
of the escarpment south of Ma’an, where the line, after climbing the
plateau to a height of 3,700 feet above sea-level, drops suddenly into
a yawning ravine.
Damascus was selected as the starting-point for the railway, and the
gauge of the line extending northwards from this terminus was adopted.
Consequently, when the various intermediate links in the railway chain
of northern Asia Minor are connected up, it will be possible to run
from Constantinople to the sacred cities without change of carriage.
The route selected by the engineer is practically the shortest possible
between the two opposite points, and runs roughly parallel with the
famous centuries-old caravan route.
[Illustration:
_Photo, Helladjian_]
A HEAVY STEEL BRIDGE IN COURSE OF ERECTION BETWEEN HAIFA AND DERAA, THE
BRANCH FROM THE MAIN SACRED LINE TO THE SHORES OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA]
It was felt, however, although Damascus should be the nominal northern
terminus, that it would be more advantageous from all points of view
to connect the railway with the Mediterranean Sea, so as to secure an
independent outlet, and one more convenient for the handling of the
constructional material than Beirut. The port selected for this purpose
was Haifa, on the Bay of Acre. This sea branch runs inland broadly at
right angles with the main line for a distance of about 100 miles,
the junction being at Deraa. In building this section, however, many
abstruse problems had to be unravelled, especially in the desolate
valley of the Yarmuk. Here the line runs along narrow ledges cut in the
mountain-side, plunges through massive shoulders, compasses precipitous
bluffs, winds from one side of the gorge to the other, and crosses deep
chasms by means of heavy masonry and metal bridges. In this stretch
the River Jordan is crossed by a noble stone bridge of five arches--the
only railway bridge across this sacred river--some distance below its
flow from the Sea of Galilee.
[Illustration:
_Photo, Helladjian_]
THE ENGINEERING WONDER OF THE HEDJAZ RAILWAY--THE SUDDEN DESCENT INTO
“THE DEVIL’S BELLY”]
The substantial character of this railway is a feature that most
impresses the visitor. The bridges and viaducts are permanent
structures wrought in stone or steel. Ample supplies of the former
material were found in the mountain-sides. The steel structures are of
massive and lofty proportions, and for the most part are supported upon
heavy masonry piers carried deeply down into the beds of the rivers,
so that the possibility of the foundations being undermined by the
scouring action of the swiftly-rushing waters is eliminated.
In traversing Palestine, the railway follows practically a straight
line from Deraa to Ma’an, some 250 miles to the south, and runs roughly
parallel with the River Jordan, which is some miles to the west,
while on the east stretches the vast Stoney Plain to the valleys of
the Tigris and Euphrates. Taken on the whole, these 250 miles were
completed very rapidly, as there were no adverse physical difficulties
to be overcome.
It was after leaving Ma’an to penetrate the wild and but little-known
Hedjaz Peninsula that the engineer’s bitterest struggle for mastery
over Nature began. It was as if the mythical Genii of the Lamp,
resenting the unlocking of the door to their kingdom, combined in their
efforts to baffle the railway engineer. Owing to the rugged character
of the country the changes in level are frequent and heavy, varying
from 200 or 300 feet below, to nearly 4000 feet above, the level of the
Red Sea. There are few main lines in any part of the world that rise
and fall so extensively and continuously.
Fortunately, in forcing the band of steel through this wild country,
the engineer was able to proceed where he liked. It is simply a vast,
silent waste of sand, with the rocks and mountains jutting their heads
to the sky as the island eyries of the sea fowl rise from the sea. A
deviation of a few hundred feet to the east or west of the air-line to
avoid a saucer-like depression, with its heavy gradients, was quite
immaterial. Yet even with these advantages it was not possible always
to avoid sharp curves and counter-curves, heavy embankments, or the
blasting of deep cuttings through large clumps of rocks.
The engineer carried his line south of Ma’an steadily upwards along the
longitudinal ridge of a plateau, until at last he gained an altitude of
3,700 feet. Then the bank dropped sheer into a picturesque wild chasm
known as Batn-el-Ghoul, or “the Devil’s Belly.”
The line reached the brink of the precipice. From there it had to be
carried to the bed of the ravine which inclines to Tabuk, the next
important point on the railway. But how was that gorge to be entered?
how could the lower level be gained? A detour so as to avoid the
escarpment was impossible, as the ridge stretched for miles on either
hand.
Meissner Pasha hurried to the railhead. He surveyed every foot of
ground in the vicinity, at one time clinging tenaciously to a crag; at
another being swung over a cliff by a rope; then perched on a jagged
pinnacle eagerly searching for some solution of his difficulty. He
traversed the pilgrim road, which is but a mere trail dropping into
the valley in a series of steep steps, time after time. The railway
could not be carried parallel with the caravan road--that was perfectly
obvious. The line of the overland route, which had for so long been
a reliable guide, now deserted him. But the engineer refused to be
daunted, and after prolonged reconnoitring he finally evolved a
remarkable project, which proved a highly successful solution.
[Illustration:
_Photo, Helladjian_]
THE RAILWAY IN THE DOMAIN OF THE GENII
The line is to the right. The fantastic shapes of the Arabian mountains
are revealed in a striking manner. A railway camp in the foreground.]
As he could not carry the line straight down into the valley, he
devised a kind of spiral, in which the railway effects what may be
best described as a “corkscrew” down the cliff face. From the brink of
the ravine it makes a gentle fall, the line clinging to the precipices
on a gallery cut for the purpose. After descending for some distance,
it suddenly describes a sharp curve and winds back again. Then comes
another loop and another redouble, this meandering being continued
until the bed of the ravine is gained. It is an ingenious piece of
work, and will rank always as one of the most prominent wonders of the
railway, as well as a monument to the engineer’s ingenuity.
[Illustration:
_Photo, Helladjian_]
THE LONELY PATH OF THE PILGRIM’S LINE THROUGH THE SILENT, ROCKY AND
SANDY WASTES OF ARABIA]
Its realisation, however, involved a tremendous struggle. The
mountain-sides are scarred and carved by the elements into most
fantastic shapes, with ugly, projecting spurs. These had to be blasted
away, narrow ledges or shelves in the cliff-face widened or cut to
carry the metallic path, deep rifts filled in or spanned, and isolated
peaks, lifting their jagged nose into the sky like gaunt sentinels,
avoided.
This ravine is a striking and curious specimen of the handiwork of
Nature. There is not a vestige of vegetation, and all life is extinct.
The masses of rock, turned into grotesque shapes by the lathe of
Nature, stand out sharply and boldly defined against the sky-line,
owing to the clearness of the atmosphere. They have a peculiar beauty,
their weird charm being accentuated by the vivid contrasting colourings
of the various geological strata standing out in distinct lines.
Looking down from the brink of the gorge, in the glare of the noonday
sun or the soft light of the sunrise or sunset, the floor of the valley
resembles a huge Persian carpet, with its intense multitudinous hues.
There is a sudden change from this natural Oriental splendour of
Nature after the ravine is left, for the railway passes over a dreary,
sweltering plain until Tabuk, the half-way house between Damascus and
Mecca, is gained. Then comes another steady climb through similar
country until the summit level of the whole line is gained--3,750 feet
above sea-level, which point also records the high-water mark of the
difficulties that had to be overcome.
The 587th mile-post at Medina Saleh indicates the most southerly point
to which the Infidel is permitted to travel over this railway. Even
Meissner Pasha and his staff of engineers who were not in the ranks
of the Faithful did not proceed farther towards Mecca. It was felt
that Mahommedans, and Mahommedans alone, should have the glory of
carrying the metals into the Sacred City. It was also feared that the
presence of infidels in the vicinity of the scene of the Prophet’s
nativity, despite their mission, possibly might inflame religious
prejudices. Consequently, Meissner Pasha handed over the reins to his
first lieutenant, Muktar Bey, the accomplished Turkish engineer who had
assisted him loyally in the operations up to this point. Similarly, all
but Mahommedan workmen were withdrawn from the railhead. The Ottoman
engineer, fired with his former chief’s enthusiasm and energy, pushed
forward at tip-top pressure, and the blast of the railway-whistle was
heard among the mosques and palms of the Sacred City for the first time
early in August, 1908.
The railway is up-to-date in every respect. The carriages are of the
corridor type, and the pilgrim who has suffered the rigours of the
wearisome overland journey can appreciate the luxury, ease and comfort
of the Pullman car. The locomotives are also powerful creations of
the engine-builder’s craft. Owing to the difficulties attending the
supply of water and fuel along the line, the engines are equipped with
abnormal facilities in this direction, the largest and most powerful
types carrying 4000 gallons of water. The stations are substantial in
character, being built of stone, so as to offer defiance to Arabs, who
cannot stifle the desire to raid now and again. At Damascus extensive
works, covering an area of 13,000 square feet, have been laid down for
carrying out repairs to engines and rolling-stock, the workshops being
fitted with the most up-to-date time- and labour-saving machinery.
When Medina was brought into touch with Damascus, and the widespread
advantages presented by the railway became appreciated, it was decided
to push the line to Mecca, 300 miles distant. Muktar Bey was detailed
to control these operations, and, establishing a subsidiary base at
Medina, he proceeded with the extension without delay. Unfortunately,
on this final division the native tribes broke into hostility once
more, and resumed their brigand tactics with renewed courage. On
one occasion they completely overwhelmed the constructional camp,
massacred all the workmen, and delayed construction until troops could
be brought up to force their withdrawal to a safe distance.
Considering the magnitude of this scheme, its completion for about
£3,000,000 ($15,000,000), or approximately £3000 ($15,000) per mile,
is strikingly cheap. This low cost, however, is explicable from the
fact that the Turkish military played a very important part in its
construction, as many as 5000 soldiers being concentrated on the task
at one time. The masonry work, steel bridges and general earthworks
were undertaken by labour recruited from all parts, only one bridge and
one heavy cutting being built by the troops, who for the most part were
occupied in applying the finishing touches to the permanent way and
platelaying.