A TRIP TO THE SEA OF GALILEE.
I had long looked forward to a visit to the Sea of Galilee (Lake
Tiberias), and eventually, late in October, my ambition was fulfilled,
for, taking advantage of "Damascus week," when leave was easy to get, I
slipped off from Ludd one morning at 8.30, and arrived at Samakh, on the
southern shores of the sea, at 2 o'clock in the afternoon.
My first peep of the Lake, as it stretched out before me and melted away
in the purple haze to the north, was delightful. The colouring was
superb and, as I sat on the edge of the rickety pier, I drank in my
novel surroundings with all the enthusiasms of a rapturous pilgrim.
The Lake glistened and glinted in the brilliant sunshine, the abrupt
arid-looking hill-sides deepened the silent mystery that seemed to hang
over it. Away to the right was the spot where the Gadarene swine,
possessed of the evil spirit, rushed down to the sea and destroyed
themselves.
Peering through my glasses straight north, I could see in the shimmering
distance the dense groves of evergreens which told me that this was the
place where the Jordan plunged down from "the waters of Merom" through
a rocky gorge, and entered the Lake. Away to the left I caught a glimpse
of a few trees and houses, and I realized that I was looking at
Capernaum, the place in which it will be remembered the worthy Roman
Centurion built a synagogue. Glancing further west, and somewhat nearer
to me, I saw the site of Bethsaida; sweeping further westward and yet
nearer, the round towers and rectangular walls of Tiberias itself stood
revealed, while close to my left hand, at the south-west corner of the
Lake, the thriving Jewish colony of Kinnereth overlooked the spot where
the Jordan rushed out of the Lake on its way to the Dead Sea.
Round about me were children revelling in the limpid water, and even a
few discreetly-veiled damsels displayed a fair share of their neat
limbs, while paddling along the sandy shore in the shade of the cliffs.
Suddenly, into all this old-world scenery, there dashed a lively
motor-boat, which had come from Tiberias to collect passengers. We
scrambled down from the crazy pier, and within an hour found ourselves
climbing up the rickety gangway leading to Tiberias, a city which stands
to-day much as King Herod Antipas, the builder, left it, although, in
the meantime, it has been much devastated by earthquakes.
I was agreeably surprised to find a clean and fairly comfortable hotel,
most capably managed by Frau Grossmann. It was still hot at Tiberias,
and yet, by some mysterious means, Frau Grossmann always managed to
produce a bottle of cold beer for dinner, a most grateful drink in this
thirsty valley.
In the early morning, I hired a boat with a good-humoured Arab crew of
three, and made an expedition across to Capernaum. Fish are still as
plentiful here as they were in the days of Simon Peter, and the
Capernaum fishermen still cast their nets as they did in apostolic
times, and wear just as little clothing.
As I wandered among the ruins, I met a striking Franciscan, Father
Vendelene, who was hospitality itself. He was a venerable German, a very
fine-looking man, standing over six feet high, full of Christian
charity, and apparently resigned to the blow which had fallen upon his
nation. Besides being a monk he was also an architect and had built many
monasteries, convents, and churches for the Franciscans in many parts of
the world; but he had been a soldier before he became a monk, and I
noticed, as he smoked a pipe and related to me his varied career, that
his eyes glowed, and his broad shoulders were thrown back, as he
described how he charged at the head of his squadron of Hussars in one
of the battles of the Franco-Prussian War. The good Father took me round
what was left of the synagogue built by the worthy Centurion whose
servant was healed. It must have been a fine piece of architecture in
its day, and it is a thousand pities that it has been levelled to the
ground by an earthquake.
On my return to the hotel I found that two Nursing Sisters had arrived
from Egypt to spend a few days at Tiberias, and at dinner I suggested
that they should join me in my boat on a voyage of discovery which I
intended to make across the Lake on the following morning, and to this
they readily agreed.
The Military Governor of Tiberias had very kindly arranged for a mounted
escort and a horse to be ready for me at the north end of the Lake where
the Jordan enters it, as I wished to make an exploring expedition as far
as possible up the river towards Lake Merom.
We left Tiberias at dawn and had a most delightful trip across the Lake,
breakfasting in the boat on the way. Sister Cook, who was blessed with a
charming voice, was moved to song, and the time passed so pleasantly
that before we knew where we were, we found ourselves stuck on a sandbar
in the Jordan River itself. Our boatmen hopped out, pushed the boat over
the bar into deep water, and off we paddled again up the famous river.
Great fields of ripe maize stretched away on either hand, and it was
curious to see dusky youths perched aloft on stagings, armed with a
sling, doing slaughter among any birds that dared to settle on their
crops. We shoved the nose of our boat into the bank, took a stroll along
a path through the tangled undergrowth, and soon met a crowd of Bedouins
who presented us with some delicious maize cobs. In this manner we
pleasantly meandered up the Jordan, now landing on this bank, and now on
that, as it took our fancy, until at last a point was reached where the
river was so shallow that the boat could go no further, and here I found
my pony and escort awaiting me.
The latter was composed of local mounted Arab gendarmerie, under the
command of a Jewish corporal, who had at one time served in the 40th
Battalion Royal Fusiliers, and I noticed with pleasure that the Jew and
the Arabs seemed to be on excellent terms.
I charged the boatman to take the Sisters to Capernaum, where I told
them to call on Father Vendelene, who I knew would give them a warm
welcome.
Having seen the boat safely started on the way, and with strict
injunctions to the sailors to return for me in good time, I mounted my
pony and started my exploration of the Upper Jordan.
My escort (who were also supposed to be guides) often got completely
lost in the dense oleander jungle that here abounds, but after many
trials and tribulations, in the course of which I came upon a submerged
herd of buffalo sleeping peacefully in a marshy backwater, I emerged
torn and bleeding at the entrance of the black rocky gorge down which
the Jordan rushes. Riding here became impossible, so I went on foot
until the westering sun warned me it was time to return.
On the way back, which was by another and much easier route, we came
across a stalwart Bedouin hunter who, only five days before, had shot a
splendid leopard on the hillside.
I asked him if there was any chance of my being able to do likewise. He
replied that it was possible, but I might have to wait a month before I
got a shot; I could, however, have other good hunting any day I liked,
for the thickets were alive with wild boar. This man knew every track
round about, and, as we were still shut in by dense thickets, he
volunteered to come with me as a guide to the Lake. On parting he
refused all offers of money, but later I sent him some tobacco, which I
hope he received safely. My escort, when we reached open level country,
raced and chased each other on their ponies, pulling up suddenly, or
darting to the right or left in wild career. Both rode thoroughbred Arab
mares and were immensely proud of their steeds, and their own prowess
thereon.
On reaching the Lake, I espied the boat coming along, and as the water
was shallow I urged my mount into it and rode out to meet the little
vessel. The Arab boatmen, singing some quaint chorus, came alongside and
I slipped off the saddle on to the gunwale, waved good-bye to my friends
of the gendarmerie, and headed the boat for Capernaum to pick up the
Sisters. Here I found that they had had a great time. Just as they were
in the midst of a mild flirtation with Father Vendelene, who was showing
them round his demesne, who should walk in but the Papal Legate,
Cardinal Filippo Giustini, just arrived from Rome on a tour of
inspection! The good cardinal was not horrified, however, for he
insisted on the ladies coming into the Refectory, where he himself
poured them out a cup of tea.
On the way back from Capernaum we hugged the west coast of the Lake and
made a call at Migdal, an up-to-date Jewish fruit farm on the site of
the ancient Magdala, the birthplace of that romantic figure in the New
Testament, Mary Magdalene. Unfortunately, the manager, Mr. Glickin, was
away, but his representative gave us a delightful tea in the open, under
the shade of an enormous fig tree. Here fruits and flowers of all kinds
were showered upon us, oranges, pomegranates, bananas, nuts, almonds,
etc., all of the most delicious flavour. Our boatmen had much ado in
carrying all our gifts down to the shore.
[Illustration: RUINS OF THE OLD CITY OF TIBERIAS
(_See page 245_)]
We then skirted the Lake, and when nearing Tiberias saw the caves where
the famous Jewish philosopher Maimonides, and the two famous Rabbis,
Meir and Ben Akiba, are buried.
Not very far from Tiberias is the pit of Joseph, which old Arabian
geographers maintain is the identical one into which the favourite son
of Jacob was cast.
Darkness was now swiftly coming on and, as we neared Tiberias, in the
twinkling of an eye, a sudden squall burst upon us, and we were glad to
reach the little haven in safety.
Altogether it had been a very full day and the Sisters assured me that
they would look upon it as one of the red-letter days of their lives.
Before leaving the Sea of Galilee, I made an excursion to the wonderful
hot sulphur baths, about three miles to the south of Tiberias, and saw
the boiling water gushing out of the cleft in a rock. There is a
bathhouse close by where people afflicted with rheumatism dip in these
medicinal waters and are made whole again.
On the way back from these springs I passed through the ruins of the old
city of Tiberias, with its columns all awry and prostrate, and mounds of
débris covering a considerable extent. On a hill, just above the modern
Tiberias, stand the ruins of Herod's Palace, and I there saw what is
reputed to be the chamber where Herodias' daughter danced for the head
of John the Baptist.
In enterprising hands, Tiberias could be made to flourish exceedingly as
a winter resort. There one can have excellent boating, fishing,
boar-hunting, explorations on horseback through the exceedingly
interesting country which surrounds it, and at the same time cure all
one's ills in the wonderful hot baths.
Beautiful Palestinian lace is made in this old Hebrew city by
industrious Jewish girls, and I brought away some very fine examples of
their work.
There is an old synagogue near the Hot Springs where the celebrated
Rabbi Meir expounded the law to Israel.
Before I left Galilee I met my old friend, Captain Trumpeldor, who had
served under me in the Zion Mule Corps in Gallipoli. I was delighted to
see this gallant officer once more, and we had a long chat over old
times. Trumpeldor had only just returned from Russia, where he had been
organizing a Jewish Legion for service in Palestine. The Bolsheviks,
however, interfered with his plans, and he was lucky to escape from
their clutches. Sad to relate, a few months after our meeting in
Galilee, Captain Trumpeldor met his death there, while defending a
Jewish Colony from a raiding party of Bedouins. He directed the defence
for two hours after he had been mortally wounded, and then died,
fighting to the last. He was one of the most gallant men I have ever
met, and his loss is keenly felt by all his friends and comrades.
The Sea of Galilee is bound to have an enormous influence on the
economic life of Palestine. Here we have stored up practically an
unlimited supply of latent energy. This great mass of water is situated
some 700 feet above the level of the Dead Sea, into which its overflow,
the Jordan runs.
A canal constructed from the south-west corner of Lake Tiberias, and
graded along the Jordan Valley, would, in the length of a few miles,
give a vertical fall of over 300 feet. A suitable hydro-electric plant
erected at the site of the falls would produce enough energy to
revolutionise every phase of life in the Holy Land.
It must be remembered that so far neither coal nor oil have been found
in the country, while forests do not exist; consequently the cost of all
kinds of fuel is very high, and industrial undertakings, where cheap
power is a factor, are out of the question.
What a Heaven-sent boon then is this stored-up energy of the blessed
Jordan. Cheap light, heat, and power can be had from it throughout the
length and breadth of Palestine. Touch a switch in summer and a whirling
fan will keep one's house delightfully cool, while in the winter
electrical fires will provide warmth in the chilly evenings on the
hill-tops. Evil smelling paraffin lamps and stoves will be a thing of
the past, for, of course, electricity will provide all that is necessary
in the way of fuel and light.
Ample power is available for the electrification of the existing
railways, and, of course, light tramways could be operated all over the
country.
Great areas of land now lying fallow could be irrigated and made
fruitful and capable of sustaining a large population.
If Palestine is to become a home for any large number of the Jewish
people, this great source of economic life must be turned to account,
and all the land blessed by the amazing benefits which electricity can
shower upon it.
Jewish brains, Jewish capital, and Jewish workers will undoubtedly
carry out this scheme, and gradually the country, which is now arid and
neglected, will be turned once more into a land flowing with milk and
honey. The hills will again be terraced and crowned with fig and olive
trees, and the valleys and plains will abound with ripening corn.
The country which for hundreds of years has been at a standstill, lends
itself to all kinds of industrial enterprises, such as fruit-farming,
olive oil and soap factories, fishing and canning, etc.
The trade and commerce that will flow through Palestine is not to be
measured by the paltry revenue returns now shown. When the country is
developed, the old trade routes with the hinterland reopened, and the
ports at Haifa and Jaffa improved, its importance, commercially, will be
enhanced beyond all recognition.