THE NAZARETH HILLS.
Past Gilboa, Jezreel, Shunem, Nain, and Endor, we sped to the foot of
the great cliff 1000 feet high, which rises straight from the plain by
the narrow pass to the Nazareth hills. From the middle ages down, this
cliff has been shown as that from which the Nazarenes would have
precipitated the Saviour. Old Maundeville quaintly terms it “the Leap of
our Lord,” and other pilgrims were shown a hollow where the rock had
become soft as wax, and formed a hiding-place where Christ was said to
have been concealed.
Up the pass a long train of camels and of black donkeys toiled, laden
with the rich crop of sesame just reaped. Ascending the steep and
slippery track, we reached the soft white chalk which forms the upper
portion of the range, and which produces all round Nazareth a
neighbourhood of bare, white, rolling hills, quite distinct from the
bold mountains of Upper Galilee and from the oak-clad downs near Carmel.
Here in the valley which we were following is a beautiful garden or
orchard; oranges, figs, nuts, lemons, and pomegranates grow beside a
spring, the rich green contrasting with the glaring white of the chalk
and the brown of the burnt grass between the ledges. Still riding
north-east a busy scene greeted our eyes--a great threshing-floor, on
which horses and cows were being driven round, some dragging the rude
threshing-sledge, some trampling only with their feet, while great cones
of corn were being winnowed with a fork. Here we turned a corner, and
suddenly all Nazareth was before us, gleaming white and new-looking on
the side of the hill.
The position of the village is secluded, and it is only visible from its
immediate neighbourhood. The range of hills runs north-east, and the
south slopes are steep; a valley comes down westward on this side, and
then gradually burrows south to its mouth, at the pass by which we had
come up. At the point where it turns an open dell or hollow plateau is
formed, where are the gardens of Nazareth--a sort of little
mountain-plain, shelving down southwards. On it stand the Greek Church
of the Annunciation and the Virgin’s Fountain; the town itself climbs up
from it westwards, and hangs on the side of the steep hill, on the
summit of which is the Moslem Chapel of Neby S’ain. The total extent of
the village or town is only about a quarter of a mile either way, but
the houses stand close together, so that in this small area a population
of nearly 6000 souls is crowded, of whom one third only are Moslem.
Very characteristic of the history of the Holy Land it is to find within
so small an area the sacred places of no less than six sects. The most
ancient building is the Latin Church over the Holy House, in the strong
monastery with its shady garden and palms. North of it the graceful
minaret and the dark cypresses of the mosque rise close to the
Governor’s house. On the west, yet higher up the hill, white and new
stands the Gothic tower of the English Church; still farther west is the
Maronite chapel. In the main street by the market the Greek Catholics
hold possession of the chapel where they believe the synagogue of
Nazareth once to have stood; high above the town on the north a large
orphanage, built by German labour with English money, has been erected
by the Society for Female Education in the East. Farther east is the
palace of the Greek bishop, and above the fountain is the church (also
on the foundations of a building mentioned as early as 709 A.D.), where
the Greeks hold the Salutation of Mary to have occurred beside the
springhead beneath the hill.
Thus we see at a glance how the little town is the centre of Christian
love and veneration, and the goal to which men’s thoughts have been
attracted from the west, from the north, from the east, and from the
south, from civilised Europe, from rough but believing Russia, from the
hills of Lebanon, even from the plains of Mecca.
Twenty years ago Nazareth was a poor village, now it is a flourishing
town. The freedom given to religious worship by the Turks has been
indeed remarkable compared with the tyranny of Arab or Egyptian
governors; thus two Latin Churches, a Latin Hospice, the English Church,
and many fine houses have been built within the last dozen years or so,
and hence the very white and new appearance of the town of which they
are the most prominent buildings.
Past the fortress convent, where a monk was alighting from a
richly-caparisoned horse, up the narrow lanes, between the little hovels
of the older part of the town, up rubbish-heaps, and over slippery
cobbles, we rode to the parsonage, and were hospitably entertained by
Mr. Zeller, the clergyman. The next day we returned early, and thus a
more intimate acquaintance with the town was reserved until later, when
I spent nearly three weeks in the Latin Hospice, and again visited the
city twice for a few days in 1875.
Nazareth is probably not a very ancient place, for it is not noticed in
the Old Testament, though situated very near the boundary of Zebulun;
nor was it probably ever a very large town, for it has but one spring.
Its name is most likely derived from the colour of the hills around, and
may mean “white,” though the early fathers loved to render it “flower,”
and others make it to mean “watchtower.” Ancient Nazareth probably stood
rather higher on the slope than modern Nazareth; the place, in fact, has
slid down the hill, as is indicated by the position of the old cisterns
and tombs. Thus the “brow of the hill” is more probably one of the
cliffs now above the town, or perhaps another hidden beneath the houses,
and there is no necessity to seek it at so great a distance as that of
the Saltus Domini precipice.
It is curious that Jerome scarcely seems ever to have been in Nazareth,
though travelling far and wide over Palestine. In 700 A.D. Bishop
Arculph found it an open village, with two churches--one over the
grotto, one over the spring, both very large; but soon after troubles
began, and it was not till the time of the Crusades that Nazareth became
a bishopric. In 1102 Sæwulf found it entirely wasted, only a few columns
remaining at the fountain, and though enjoying a temporary prosperity
under the Christian monarchy, it was again devastated by the Moslems,
and in 1322 Sir John Maundeville writes of it that it was “formerly a
great and fair city, but now there is but a small village;” whilst of
its inhabitants he says, “they are very wicked and cruel Saracens, and
more spiteful than in any other place, and have destroyed all the
churches.” It is not only Sir John, unfortunately, who can attest this
fact: the zealous missionaries who have seen Moslem and Christian, Latin
and Greek, shedding one another’s blood, Captain Burton who there nearly
lost his life, and my own party who fared but ill in the neighbourhood,
will alike bear witness to the turbulence of the Nazarenes--an evil
character for which they seem to have been notorious ever since the days
when they sought to stone our Lord, and gave cause yet earlier for the
Jewish proverb, “Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?”
The people of the town are remarkable for the gay colouring of their
dresses, and the Christian women for their beauty. Many a charming bit
of colour, many a shapely figure set off by picturesque costume, many a
dark eye and ruddy cheek, have I seen in the streets or by the spring.
This beauty is peculiar to the Christians of Bethlehem and Nazareth, and
various reasons are given which agree, however, in supposing a mixture
of European blood. As to the dress, the causes are manifest; the costume
is that commonly worn by Christians, and is only striking by contrast
because the villagers of the neighbouring places are Moslem; the
townsmen are also richer, and can afford better dress, and this partly
accounts for the superior beauty of the better-fed women when contrasted
with the worn faces of the overworked and half-starved peasant women of
the surrounding poor hamlets.
A more special description of the people, their dress, customs, and
religion, must, however, be reserved until they can be treated with the
rest of the natives in a future chapter: suffice it here to notice that
they present a far more pleasing and picturesque appearance than most
of the inhabitants of Syrian towns. Leaving the question for the
present, we may next turn attention to the two sacred places of
Nazareth--the Grotto of the Annunciation and the Virgin’s Spring.
The site of the Holy House was shown, as noticed above, as early as 700
A.D. in a rock-cut grotto. The pillars of the Crusading church built
round it were still visible in 1620 A.D., but the new building erected
in 1730 A.D. with the rest of the present monastery, has no connection
with the plan of the former, the foundations of which still exist
beneath. The modern church is a whitewashed, square structure, seventy
feet long and fifty broad, directed north and south. The high altar
above the sacred grotto is reached by a flight of stairs, from each side
of the seventeen marble steps which lead down to the vestibule, called
the Chapel of the Angel, where left and right are the altars of St.
Joachim and the angel Gabriel. Behind the high altar is the choir, dark
and roomy like that at Bethlehem. Descending into the grotto and passing
through the vestibule, the old Franciscan led me into the little
rock-cut chamber, with marble floor, and an altar on the north wall.
This is the outer half of the grotto, and a wall of separation divides
it from the inner half. The outer is called Grotto of the Annunciation,
the inner that of St. Joseph. From the roof of the former, which
measures twenty feet across and seven feet in depth, hangs pendant near
the west side the shaft of a red granite pillar, apparently a column of
the old chapel in the grotto, and believed to be miraculously suspended
over the very place where the angel stood when bringing the message to
Mary. Lighting the little taper on the altar, and kneeling for a moment
in prayer, the monk drew the veil from before an Italian picture of the
Annunciation, soft and mellow in colour, with a sweet Virgin face, and
tawdry silver crown and nimbus sewn on above her head and that of
Gabriel.
By the narrow entrance on the right we passed into the inner part of the
chapel, dark and damp, equal in width, but double the depth of the outer
part. It is only just about high enough to stand in: its altar is placed
at the back of the last described, with a picture of St. Joseph. From
this a narrow passage twenty feet long, with seventeen steps, leads up
obliquely to the inmost part of the cave, a chamber of irregular shape,
traditionally supposed to be the Virgin’s kitchen, with a chimney hewn
in the rock on the east, and an entrance, now walled up, on the west, by
which the father informed me the Virgin used to go out to fetch water
from the spring. The whole place is very dark and low, with a damp
odour, and resembles the ancient cisterns of which many exist in
Nazareth; yet for nearly twelve centuries this spot has been visited by
millions from every Christian land as the early home of Christ and of
His mother. I observed to the monk that it was dark for a
dwelling-house, but he answered very simply, “The Lord had no need of
much light.”
It is hardly worth while to describe the modern sanctuary of “St.
Joseph’s Workshop,” a Latin chapel, built only in 1859, about two
hundred yards north of the monastery, in the Moslem Quarter; or the
Mensa Christi, a block of rock rudely oval ten feet across and three
feet high, in a church built in 1861 in the west quarter of the town.
The only other ancient site is that of the Virgin’s Fountain, six
hundred yards north-east of the Latin Monastery at the end of a lane
hedged with prickly pear, and near the flat camping ground among the
olives.
As early as 700 A.D. we find Bishop Arculph visiting here a church over
the spring. The present building is only about eighty years old, but
occupies the same site. It is dedicated to St. Gabriel, and even the
Latins admit it to be on the site where first the angel became visible.
It is curious that no artist has pitched upon so charming a subject as
that suggested by a meeting with the Heavenly messenger at the Fountain,
an idea not discordant with the words of the Gospel. As in the eighth
century, so now the spring is under the floor of the church, which is
itself half subterranean. The water is led to the left of the high
altar, past a well-mouth, by which it is drawn up for pilgrims, and so
by a channel to the masonry fountain, where it comes out through metal
spouts under an arched recess broad enough for fifteen women to stand
side by side. A pool is formed below at the trough, and here the
constant succession of the Nazareth women may be seen all day filling
their great earthenware jars, standing ankle-deep in water, their pink
or green-striped baggy trousers tucked between their knees; their heads
are covered, if Moslems, with the moon-shaped tire, if Christians, with
a gay handkerchief or the hair platted in long tails. A negress in blue
here and there mingles with the crowd, which is chattering, screaming,
gossiping, and sometimes fighting.
The Protestant buildings in Nazareth are the most conspicuous, because
higher placed than either the beautiful minaret of the mosque or the
strong pile of the monastery. The hospital, presided over by Dr. Varten,
an accomplished surgeon and a kind doctor, stands towards the north; the
church, well built with a pretty garden and capable of containing five
hundred persons, is to the west, tastefully decorated within, and having
over the altar-table, in Arabic, the words read by the Saviour in the
Synagogue of Nazareth, “the Spirit of the Lord is upon me ... to preach
the Gospel to the poor; He hath sent Me to heal the broken-hearted, to
preach deliverance to the captives” (Luke iv. 18).
Highest placed of all, however, half-way up the hill, the great
orphanage has been building since 1872, and is now complete, and
designed to hold two hundred girls. It is built in the symbolic but very
inconvenient form of a cross with the sides filled in, and is but ill
designed though well executed, and externally a very fine building. From
its esplanade the town is visible, spread out almost like a map on the
lower slopes, with olive and fig-gardens, cactus hedges and yellow
threshing-floors, backed by barren stony hills.
A volume might be written on the history and topography of Nazareth, but
the present sketch is necessarily a short one. A chief feature of the
place must not, however, be forgotten--the view from the summit of the
hill by the little chapel of Neby S’ain, whose untranslatable name is a
puzzle to the residents.
We can scarcely doubt that this scene, unchanged as it must be in its
noble natural features, was one often before the eyes of Christ in
childhood and manhood, and it is remarkable how much that is stirring in
the history of Israel was enacted within the theatre of rolling hills
which bound the view.
Here on the south the broad brown Plain of Esdraelon stretches away to
the hills of Samaria. The peak of the Precipitation stands above it at
the end of the plateau of Nazareth, and beyond, the top of Tabor and the
cone of Jebel Duhy rise up on the left. The ridge of Gilboa appears
farther south, cliff above cliff, tilted eastwards and shelving down
gently to the plain on the west. Turn-to the right the eye follows the
broken outline of mountains rising into the volcanic cone of Sheikh
Iskander, and farther on, the whole range of Carmel, in its length of
twelve miles, is stretched dark and wooded from the Peak of the
Sacrifice to the Convent promontory where Haifa nestles at its feet.
Over the ridge far south the gleaming sea appears; to the north is the
hollow bay of Acre with its white circle of surf, the town itself not
visible; behind us again on the north are the steep Galilean hills, the
Safed mountains, the beautiful plain of Asochis where Kânah stands on
the slope; farthest away of all is the snowy dome of Hermon.
Very beautiful on a clear day is this panorama, and striking indeed is
the jagged and broken hill horizon, purple against the orange sunset.
Here, then, the Saviour may have stood, and seen before His eyes the
theatre of many a tragedy of Jewish history. Tabor, from which the army
of Barak burst on the host of horse and chariots by the Kishon springs
beneath; Endor where Saul crept round the hillside by night to the
witch’s cave; the broad valley down which Gideon drove the Midianites,
up which Jehu came in his chariot to Jezreel, visible on its rocky
knoll; Gilboa, on whose slopes Saul and Jonathan had perished, caught
between the Philistines and the precipices; Carmel, the site of the
great triumph of the God of Elijah, and the great sea on which still in
autumn the little cloud comes up like a man’s hand and swells till huge
thunder-pillars are piled black and high above the mountains. On the
north Sepphoris the Roman capital, Seph the “city set on a hill,” Rumeh
where some said Messias was first to appear, the road to Capernaum, and
the solitary ridges of Hermon where the transfigured Saviour was seen by
the three Apostles.
But, as we look round, nineteen centuries later, we mark the influence
of the history of the Gospels, and of the growth of tradition. On the
south the traditional Leap of our Lord, two miles from the city built on
the brow of the hill. In Nain, beneath and unseen, the Christian chapel,
commemorative of the raising of the widow’s son, now in turn a Moslem
mosque. On Carmel a grotto of Elijah, venerated by Christians and
Druses. On the hill of Sepphoris a ruined church, six centuries old,
once thought to be the home of Joachim and Anne, the Virgin’s parents.
On the plain, a ruined Cana, perhaps only dating from Crusading times.
On Tabor a false site for the Transfiguration, and three churches in
ruins.
Yet with a history so long and eventful, the land itself is unchanged;
the brown plains, the grey barren hills, the wooded cliffs of Carmel,
the gleaming sea, the snow-clad Hermon, are still the same that Christ
once looked on; and we merely add to the theatre of Jewish victory or
defeat the sites venerated, in loving, if mistaken zeal by the Christian
pilgrims of the eighteen centuries before our time.
From the hill-top northwards, the view extends to the ruin of Kânah, a
village destroyed not long ago, to judge from the existing remains;
beneath the hills north-east lies hidden the prosperous village of Kefr
Kenna. These are the two places which claim each to represent Cana of
Galilee, the site of Christ’s first miracle.
Unfortunately there is scarcely anything in Scripture which would lead
to a choice between the two, nor do the chance references of Josephus
enable us to do more than speculate as to the comparative likelihood of
the sites. In the Talmud, Cana is not noticed; thus there is nothing in
contemporary literature to enable us to decide.
One thing only seems pretty certain--that the Crusaders believed
Khŭrbet Kânah to be Cana. Sæwulf in 1102 A.D. gives a very particular
description of the place as six miles north of Nazareth, with a place
called Roma half-way, which he describes as a castle near the road from
Acre to Tiberias, where travellers broke the journey.
Fetellus, again (1130 A.D.), places Cana five miles from Nazareth,
Sepphoris two, and Tabor four. In the “Citez de Jherusalem” (1187 A.D.),
it is made to be three leagues from Nazareth, with a well a bowshot off;
Sepphoris being one league, and Tabor three. John Poloner in 1422 A.D.
makes it four leagues east of Acre, and two leagues north of Sepphoris.
Marino Sanuto describes it most carefully, and draws it on his map as
north of a plain reaching south to Sepphoris, with a mountain behind it
on the north; he gives the distance as four miles, Tabor also as four,
and Sepphoris as two. Brocardus agrees with this description, and
Quaresmius in 1620 A.D. notices the same site as an old traditional
position for Cana.
These accounts, though the distances seem only approximative, agree in
placing Cana at a distance from Nazareth equal to or greater than that
of Tabor, and north of Sepphoris and of Roma. They can only therefore
apply to Khŭrbet Kânah, situate with a plain to the south, a mountain
to the north, and a cave like the crypt described by John Poloner, to
the west. They cannot be applied to Kefr Kenna south of Roma (now
Rûmeh), almost equidistant with Sepphoris from Nazareth and nearer than
Tabor, with a mountain to the south and plain to the north.
The true distances are as follows:
Nazareth to Kefr Kenna 3¾ English miles.
Nazareth to Kânah 8 English miles.
Nazareth to Rûmeh 6 English miles.
Nazareth to Seffûrieh 3½ English miles.
Nazareth to Tabor 5½ English miles.
These measurements, as a glance at the map will show, serve to place
Crusading Cana from the twelfth to the seventeenth centuries at the
northern site of Khŭrbet Kânah. John of Wirtzburg, indeed (1100
A.D.), might be thought to mean Kefr Kenna, because he makes Cana east
instead of north-east of Sepphoris; but he gives its distance as double
that of the latter town from Nazareth (four miles, whilst Sepphoris is
two according to him), the long mile used by most of his contemporaries
being evidently intended. The distances thus serve to point in this case
also to Khŭrbet Kânah.
Unfortunately the Crusading locality is not of necessity the true one.
Writers who could believe that Shiloh was south of Bethel, who could
place Tyre south of Carmel and Capernaum on the shore of the
Mediterranean, cannot well be received as authorities on such a
difficult question. Their identification is thus merely a matter of
curiosity. The early pilgrims, before the Crusades, are generally more
correct in their views, but even they cannot be received as certainly
informed, so many and so curiously perverse are their errors in other
points; in this case, moreover, they scarcely mention the place. St.
Willibald (722 A.D.) gives a hint of its whereabouts in noticing Cana as
on his road from Nazareth to Tabor--a position which seems to suit
neither Kânah nor Kefr Kenna. St. Paula (383 A.D.) also passed it on her
way from Nazareth to Sea of Galilee; and Theodorus (530 A.D.) makes it
equidistant with Nazareth from Sepphoris (both five Roman miles), but
does not mention the direction.
The comparative claims of the two places may thus be summed up:
Khŭrbet Kânah approaches nearest in name, Kefr Kenna is in the most
suitable position.
As regards the name, the word Cana, as spelt in the Greek, seems
undoubtedly to represent Kanah as spelt in Hebrew with the “Koph,” a
name occurring in the Book of Joshua as that of a town near Sidon (now
Kânah) and that of a valley south of Shechem. Kenna spelt with the “Caf”
is quite a different word; the root of Kanah has the meaning “reedy,”
and this applies well to Khŭrbet Kânah, situate above a large marsh;
the root of Kenna signifies “roofed,” and would be spelt properly in
Greek with the X, not the K.
As regards position, it seems far more probable that Kenna, on the road
to Tiberias, would be the place twice visited by Christ, than the remote
Kânah, which is on no main line of travel. The objections also that the
word Kefr has to be accounted for, and that no signs of antiquity are
found at Kefr Kenna, were removed by the Survey, for we found an old
ruin called Kenna near the beautiful spring west of the village of Kefr
Kenna.
There is, however, another place which has never, I believe, been
noticed, and which fits better than either with the early Christian site
noticed by Willibald. The little village of Reineh is on the road
north-east of Nazareth, and only a mile and a half away; from it a main
road leads to Tabor, and by this road is a fine spring called ’Ain
Kânah, spelt as the Greek leads us to suppose the Hebrew form of Cana
must have been. In the absence of more definite indications, it seems to
me that this third site may well rank with either of the others before
mentioned.
The Crusaders, then, believed Cana to be north of the Buttauf Plain, the
early Christians placed it south. In the seventeenth century both sites
were known, but finally ecclesiastical sanction was given to Kefr Kenna;
thus the northern site presents now only ruined walls and dry wells in
the rock on the slope of the rugged mountain which is also named Kânah,
whilst the southern place is a flourishing Christian village of
flat-roofed huts standing above the beautiful gardens and orchards which
surround its spring. Like many others of the New Testament towns, Ænon,
Bethabara, or Nazareth, there is nothing in the Gospel definitely to fix
the position of the place; Josephus and the Talmud give us no aid, and
the question appears to me destined to remain always unsettled from want
of any evidence sufficiently conclusive.
The survey of the country round Cana and Nazareth, as far west as
Kishon, and north to the beautiful valley called Wâdy el Malak, occupied
seven weeks from the 20th of October to the 10th of December. It was a
period of constantly recurring difficulties, caused partly by the
fanaticism of the Moslems, partly by the unhealthy season. The
adventures of the party were far from pleasant, and the anxiety was
considerable; all, however, was in the end successfully carried through,
and Christmas found us safely housed in Haifa.
Warned by the misfortunes of others, we encamped first at some little
distance from the quarrelsome town of Nazareth, in the flourishing
village of Mujeidil west of it, a place containing Christians and even a
few Protestants.
On the night of our arrival the weather broke, and on the following day
the thunder-pillars, which had been piled over the dark slate-coloured
ridge of Carmel, gradually approached; the effect was magnificent, with
a mid distance of low hills covered with oak woods. The storm burst
suddenly, the rain descending with violence, hissing on the ground as if
not able to come down fast enough, and accompanied with gusts of wind,
thunder, and lightning. This naturally called to mind the great storm
after the sacrifice on Carmel, when Ahab sped over the plain before the
swollen Kishon became sufficiently full to intercept him. In the evening
the lightning over Carmel, in broad sheets and vivid forks, was equally
fine. The face of the country was soon changed: crocuses, narcissus,
lilies, squills, and red anemone appeared, the grass began soon to
sprout, and the birds to arrive, and the yellow wagtail appeared by the
springs; long wreaths of cloud formed on the hills, and bursts of
sunlight or of rain alternated. The extreme clearness of the atmosphere
was most remarkable, and distances became most difficult to judge, being
apparently only half what they were in reality.
The scenery in the Nazareth hills differs very much in different parts;
round the city itself it consists of rolling, rounded mountains of bare
white limestone, but on the west these are hidden beneath a growth of
forest trees. The wood consists almost entirely of oak, and in places is
open with corn beneath the trees; but for the greater part of its
extent it is very dense, especially near Harosheth (El Harithîyeh), a
place thence named, where underwood, more or less thick, is found.
Through this forest runs the beautiful valley called Wâdy el Malak,
generally rendered “King’s Valley,” but perhaps better “Valley of
Pasture.” Such a valley, with its cool brook and clear springs, its
broad cornfields and patches of turf, its flocks and herds, we may
suppose David to have in remembrance in the twenty-third Psalm. On
either side the slopes are covered by the oak-forest, and innumerable
wild doves find shelter for their nests among the branches. For quiet
beauty we saw nothing in Palestine equal to this valley, up which in
1875 we ran the levels, thus visiting it day after day for more than a
week.
Yet even here the absence of song-birds was very remarkable. Birds of
prey, eagles, kites, hawks, vultures, and griffons may be seen almost
anywhere in Palestine; the twittering of swallows and the screaming of
the Galilean swift are also common; the jays and the comical little
“boomehs,” as the owls are called, are always found in the olive-trees;
but only at Jericho did we come across the bulbul, and only once (near
Jerusalem) did I hear the nightingale. The noise of the cicalas in
summer in the olives, and at night the peculiar gamut of the “wâwis” or
jackals, and occasionally the bark of a hyena, and the shrill note of
the great black crickets, are the most familiar sounds in tent life.
Mujeidil being a place visited by the missionaries, we here witnessed a
curious scene. The native Protestant schoolmaster invited us to
breakfast, and to the service held by an ordained native clergyman. The
school was cool and roomy, with a bright glare through the window and
door; the flat roof of wood was supported on masonry arches at
intervals, and consisted of boughs smoke-blackened and untrimmed; the
walls and floor were shiny with plaster also stained with smoke. Hence
the effect was that so peculiar to these interiors, of broad dusky
shadow and little bright patches of light: here and there faint lines of
tobacco smoke curled in the air, and along the step of the diwan was a
row of old slippers of the congregation. Three or four pigeons flew
cooing about, and a dozen purple swallows were half hidden in the
rafters, whilst an old hen with a tuft on her head stood in a corner.
On one side sat the men, some of them great villains in appearance, in
old worn “kufeyehs” and brown “abbas;” behind them a young woman,
probably only looking in out of curiosity, to see the Franks, dressed in
the Nazareth Christian style, with the baggy trousers--a plump, dusky
face, very bright eyes, and hair all tangled. Farther on the old
schoolmaster, in a black mantle and white under-robe, hook-nosed,
bald-headed, and grey-bearded; by him eight children of various ages,
with fat, dark faces, rather pretty, but, as usual, coarse in feature,
with bright sparkling eyes, white teeth, and well-shaped mouths. One
girl had a sort of stomacher of silver coins, a second was in
pink-striped calico, with a huge black Bible. A handsome little boy wore
an olive-green jacket, a scarlet fezz, a salmon-coloured waistcoat bound
with black braid, and white trousers.
Conversation with the minister, dressed in black overcoat and white
gown, opened the proceedings; lemonade, coffee, and a cigarette
followed. All the congregation then rose, the minister removed his fezz,
and a prayer, a chapter, and a short sermon formed the service,
concluding with the Lord’s Prayer, in which all joined, and the
blessing; the whole in Arabic. The natives were reverential and
attentive, but some of the children got tired of the sermon and set to
teasing one another.
Leaving Nazareth as soon as possible, we made our new camp at the
village of Sheikh Abreik, situate on a white hill, which projects as a
bastion from the rest, forming one side of the narrow gorge where, under
the cliffs of Carmel, the Kishon leaves the great Plain of Esdraelon to
enter that of Acre. Here we spent a pleasant fortnight, but here also we
had troubles with the neighbouring peasantry.
Sheikh Abreik stands on the site of an unknown town of no little
importance. To the west the hillside is completely undermined by
extensive excavations and systems of tombs which required many days to
examine. Under the town is one called “the Cave of Gehenna,” and on the
hill is another consisting of chamber within chamber, the first entered
being painted with palm-branches, ivy-leaves, and other mortuary emblems
in red; in one tomb the inscription “Parthene” is written in Greek, in
another we found graves unopened, and the entrances most carefully
closed; but unfortunately the roof had fallen in, and all that our
excavation brought us was a delicate little tear-bottle, the glass
oxidised by age, and covered with a prismatic crust which scaled off
easily.
Into every entrance I could find I forced a way, sometimes opening up
the door with a spade just enough to force my shoulders through, and
creeping into the dark chamber, where the taper revealed ghastly
creeping insects, and in one case a scorpion, which stung me pretty
sharply. This inspection laid the foundation of a systematic comparison
of many hundred tombs throughout the country, which has led to
conclusions of some value with regard to the comparative antiquity of
various kinds of sepulchres. It is pretty clear, for instance, that the
tomb with a loculus parallel to the side of the central chamber is a
later arrangement, used by the Jews about the Christian era, instead of
the Kokim tomb, in which the body was placed in a sort of pigeon-hole,
with its feet nearest the chamber; and further, that the rolling stone
was also a later contrivance, being found almost exclusively with the
loculi or later tombs. These conclusions fully accord with the
description of the Holy Sepulchre as a tomb with a rolling stone to its
door, for our Lord’s tomb must have been one with a loculus or grave
parallel to the side of the chamber, because two angels are described as
sitting, “the one at the head, the other at the feet, where the body of
Jesus had lain” (John xx. 12), which would have been clearly impossible
in the more primitive form of Jewish tomb with Kokim.
Sheikh Abreik was a great place for game; a flight of woodcock arrived
on the 7th of November, and, in spite of the constant massacre which
they underwent at our hands (Drake being a very good shot), they stayed
a week, during which time we killed and eat about fifty, sending some as
presents to Nazareth. Quail and red-legged partridge were also to be
found near the camp. One day we had an exciting hunt, over the
cotton-fields, after gazelles. The dogs chased a huge wild-cat, over the
hill and down a chimney cut in the rock, so that it alighted on the
heads of our astonished grooms, in a cave which formed our stable
beneath. They also unearthed some fine specimens of the ichneumon,
almost as large as themselves, and speedily put them to death. There
were large flocks of lapwings recently arrived, but very shy, and in the
marshy ground the small bustard was to be found, and occasionally a
snipe near the river.
The first really serious attack on the party--though not the last nor
the worst--was made near this camp. Sergeant Black was quietly surveying
near the village of El-Harithîyeh, where, as it appeared afterwards in
evidence, a fête or “fantasia” was being held. The young men were firing
at a mark, and one or more turning at right angles, deliberately fired
at the sergeant on the neighbouring hill. He must have been in no little
danger, as he brought home two bullets which had fallen near him. Our
soldier (Husein) behaved with great pluck, and charged up the hill at
the crowd to disperse them. We at once wrote to the Governor of Acre,
and I lost no time in telegraphing to the Consul-general, Mr. Eldridge,
at Beirut. The governor sent a party to the village and took fifteen
prisoners, though the inhabitants were at first inclined to make
resistance.
The Lieutenant-Governor of Nazareth, of whose conduct we had much cause
to complain, appears to have been reprimanded, for he came down to our
camp to make friends. He was a most extraordinary character--Faris
Effendi by name. His personal appearance was not improved by the
affectation of European costume, a purple flannel shirt, a bright brown
jacket, trousers of greenish hue, with broad black stripes; on his head
a cotton pocket-handkerchief with purple border, put on to guard from
sunstroke, under a shabby old red fezz; on his eyes huge blue goggles.
For an hour and a half he stayed, showering protestations of love and
friendship upon us, and, even to the last, he continued his chatter, and
disappeared still talking in an excited manner.
Of this official and his predecessors I was told many curious stories by
Mr. Zeller, the Protestant clergyman. Faris Effendi had one passion--his
slûkîs or hunting-dogs, which he petted almost like children. He had
curious ways also of increasing his income, his salary being a mere
pittance on which he could not live; one was to levy a tax on his
subjects of all the white hens in the villages; wherever on his travels
through the Nazareth district he saw a white hen, it is said he sent to
claim it as his own. Mr. Zeller related that another official offered to
give his good services, in some difficulties about a schoolhouse, in
consideration of the present of a pair of white trousers. A colonel in
the Jordan valley, in command of a camp of 3000 men, held a review in
honour of some passing travellers, and afterwards demanded a “bakshîsh”
of ten francs. Another dignitary was entertained with a game of chess,
at Mr. Zeller’s house, in presence of his admiring circle of followers;
finding himself, however, in danger of being beaten, he waited till Mr.
Zeller’s attention was for the moment diverted, and then quietly removed
his opponent’s queen. It is said he expressed much satisfaction at his
own ability in winning the game, after having taken this rather unusual
method of retrieving his fortunes.
One curious fact, as showing the infamous condition of the
administration, we here also ascertained. A Greek banker named Sursuk,
to whom the Government was under obligations, was allowed to buy the
northern half of the Great Plain and some of the Nazareth villages for
the ridiculously small sum of £20,000 for an extent of seventy square
miles; the taxes of the twenty villages amounted to £4000, so that the
average income could not be stated at less than £12,000, taking good and
bad years together. The cultivation was materially improved under his
care, and the property would have been immensely valuable if the title
had been secure; but the Government subsequently seized the land when it
became worth while to do so.
The peasantry attributed the purchase to Russian intrigue, being
convinced that their hated enemy has his eyes greedily turned to
Palestine and to Jerusalem as a religious capital, and is ever busy in
gaining a footing in the country.
The preceding pages give but a sketch of the labours of our first
autumn. The information collected cannot be condensed into a few pages,
and it forms a very considerable section of the memoir to the map. The
main points of interest have been touched upon, but the discoveries of
aqueducts, tombs, a hermitage, etc., the exploration of Crusading
churches, Roman sepulchral buildings, and other ruins, must be at
present passed over in silence.
On the 10th of December the weather threatened to break up, and we
marched down to the neat little house which we had hired for the winter,
in the German colony at Haifa.
[Illustration: CARMEL.]