CARMEL AND ACRE.
Carmel is best described as a triangular block of mountains, the apex
being the promontory on which the Carmelite monastery stands. The
watershed runs south-east from this point for twelve miles, to the
Mahrakah or “place of burning,” a peak visible from Jaffa in fine
weather: south of which lies Wâdy el Milh, and above that valley a large
volcanic outbreak near the apparent centre of upheaval of the Carmel
ridge. Another centre also exists farther west near Ikzim. The highest
part of the mountain is 1740 feet above the sea at the Druse village of
’Esfia. The Peak of Mahrakah is only 1687 feet high, and the promontory
by the monastery 500, but the slope of the shed is gradual. Long spurs
run out westwards from this ridge and fill up the triangle, their
western extremities having steep slopes above a narrow plain along the
sea-coast. In the valleys among them are two fine springs, and others
smaller. The north-eastern declivity of the ridge is extremely steep,
and fine cliffs occur in places. At the foot of the mountain are
numerous springs feeding the Kishon, which runs beneath, gradually
diverging northwards. The little town of Haifa nestles under the
promontory, by which it is sheltered from the south-west wind, its bay
forming the best harbour on the coast. On the north side of the bay is
St. Jean d’Acre, twelve miles along the curve of the shore from Haifa.
On the narrow plain, between Carmel and the sea, there are also many
places of interest. Sycaminon, Geba of Horsemen, Calamon, Elijah’s
Fountain, the Crusading Capernaum, and the strong and beautiful Château
Pelerin with its little advanced port of Le Detroit. On Carmel itself is
a ruined synagogue, and on the south of the range beneath the inland
cliffs are the fine springs feeding the Crocodile river.
First of all in interest comes the cliff of El Mahrakah, “the place of
burning” or of sacrifice, a peak forming the south-east extremity of the
main range, and tilted high above the white downs south of the mountain,
in consequence, as we discovered, of volcanic disturbance. The peak is a
semi-isolated knoll with a cliff some forty feet high looking
south-east; beneath it a small plateau of arable soil with olives;
bushes and shrubs grow up the cliff, and among them a little modern
chapel stands near a large dry reservoir; below the plateau, at the very
edge of the steep slope which descends to the plain, is a well, cut in
hard rock and shaded by a large locust-tree. It contained water even in
December before the rains, though not in great quantity, and it was
infested with large hornets. From the summit of the cliff the view was
wonderfully interesting: on the west the spurs of Carmel, the yellow
sand-hills round Cæsarea, the far horizon of sea; on the north Acre, the
Galilean hills, Lebanon and Hermon; on the east Nazareth, Tabor, Nain,
Endor, Shunem, Bethshan, Gilboa with Jezreel at its feet, the Great
Plain, distant Gilead, the Kishon, and Jenîn; at the foot of the
mountain, Keimûn the Crusading Cain-Mons, the Biblical Jokneam.
At least as early as the close of the last century, the Carmelite
fathers looked on this peak as the scene of Elijah’s sacrifice. The
place seems to fit the account well. A plateau gives space for the
assembly of the multitude. A well close by may have supplied water.
Fourteen hundred feet below is Kishon, where the priests were slain. The
sea is invisible, except from the summit, and thus it was only by
climbing up to the top of Carmel, from the plateau, where the altar may
have stood, that the prophet’s servant could have seen the little cloud,
no bigger than a man’s hand, spreading gradually over the sea, the
plain, and the bushy mountain spurs. We require a site for the altar
near the summit, or the prophet’s servant must have taken at least an
hour for each journey; on the other hand, we require water other than
that in the Kishon, if the sacrifice took place near the summit, or the
water-carrying would have taken three or four hours to complete. Both
requisites are found in the site at El Mahrakah.
It is possible perhaps to lay too much stress on the name, for its
antiquity is not known, and it is thought to be connected with Druse
sacrifices yearly performed here. The Druses are not natives of Carmel,
and their tradition can therefore scarcely be thought to have come down
from the time of Elijah, but is far more probably derived from the
monks, with whom they evidently live on good terms, for, as we had
occasion to see for ourselves, they present votive offerings to the old
wooden image of Elijah in the chapel of the monastery. It is certain
that mediæval Christian legends are preserved by the wild Bedawin near
Jericho, and there is therefore some probability of more modern monkish
traditions, derived from the monastery, remaining current among the
Druses of Carmel. There is a second name which has been thought also to
have a connection with the grand tragedy of the slaughter of the priests
of Baal occurring near the Kishon; this is Tell el Kassîs, “the hillock
of the priest,” a name applied to a shapeless mound near the river-bank;
but, in this case also, much caution is necessary before accepting the
supposed derivation, for Kassîs is the word applied to a Christian
priest, and the word Kohen or Kamir would more naturally be expected if
there was any real connection with the idolatrous priests of Baal. Yet,
however the tradition of the sacrifice became attached to this peak,
there is no point on the ridge which appears more suitable for the
dramatic incidents of the Bible story or for the erection of a mountain
altar.
Carmel, “the place of thickets,” was at one time cultivated, as shown by
the rock wine-presses among its copses. In 1837 it had many villages on
its slopes, but these were ruthlessly destroyed by Ibrahim Pacha, and
only two now remain--’Esfia on the main ridge, Ed Dâlieh on a high spur;
both are inhabited by the mountain-loving Druses, and are remarkable
for their race of fine handsome men and beautiful women, some with
flaxen curly hair and blue eyes. The whole mountain is covered thickly
with brushwood, mastic, hawthorn, the spurge laurel, and, on the top,
dwarf pines; the luxuriance of the vegetation, rolling down the valleys
between the steep grey and rusty cliffs like a dark cataract, attests
the richness of the red soil, and the fine mountain air makes Carmel the
healthiest district in Palestine. Among the thickets game abounds,--the
Nimr or hunting leopard, wild pigs, gazelles, and fallow-deer;
partridges and other birds are seen continually in riding about the
mountain. To this known fauna we were able to make an important
addition.
From natives of Haifa we learnt that a kind of deer called Yahmûr was to
be found on Carmel, and, offering a reward, we procured for some of the
Arab charcoal-burners a specimen which resembled the English roebuck.
The flesh we ate and found excellent, the skin and bones Mr. Drake sent
to the museum at Cambridge; and in 1876 I was informed by competent
authority that the specimen was indistinguishable from the English
roebuck. Now the interest of this discovery lies in the name. The Yahmûr
gives a title to a large valley in a wooded district south of Carmel,
and in translating the nomenclature I found that it was a Hebrew word
used in the Bible (Deut. xiv. 5) to designate a kind of deer. The
authorised version renders it “fallow-deer,” but this latter animal is
properly called Ayal in Hebrew and Rîm in Arabic. Thus until we were
able to ascertain the existence of the roebuck, previously heard of but
not seen by Dr. Tristram, and to obtain the name Yahmûr, there was no
clue to the true identification of the deer which furnished Solomon’s
table daily with choice venison (1 Kings iv. 23).
The history of the Carmelite settlement is interesting and not generally
known. The information which I was able to collect in 1875 from their
records and by word of mouth from the monks may be briefly summarised.
Carmel has been a sacred mountain from the time of its earliest
appearance in history. Elijah himself “repaired the altar of the Lord
that was broken down” (1 Kings xviii. 30), from which we infer that a
sacred place or Makom had existed on the summit of the mountain at an
earlier period, though, according to the Talmud, such high places
became for ever unlawful after the building of the Temple at Jerusalem.
From Tacitus we learn that Vespasian visited a place on Carmel, sacred
to the deity of the mountain, but without either statue or altar, and
even now, as above noted, the Druses hold the site at El Mahrakah in
reverence as a sacred place.
In the early Christian period the memory of Elijah consecrated Carmel,
and it became a favourite resort of hermits, to whom in 412 A.D. John,
the forty-second Bishop of Jerusalem, gave a rule of life. In 1185,
after Jerusalem had been taken by the Crusaders, a church rose over the
sacred Grotto of Elijah, and in 1209 another monastery of St. Margaret
or St. Brocardus was built in a steep gorge south of the promontory. We
visited from Haifa its ruins, with a cave containing sedilia for the
monks and an upper open story, a spring with sedilia beside it, and
below, at the opening of the valley, a second spring, and a garden of
fruit trees, pomegranates, apricots, and figs. The lower spring was
called after Elijah, and the title still remains in the corrupted form
El Haiyeh (“the snake”), applied to the stream from it. A tradition
exists that Elijah turned the fruits of the garden to stone, and the
huge geodes in the white chalk of the valley are shown as the petrified
fruit. This monastery was sacked by the Saracens in 1238, the monks were
massacred and thrown into a rock-cut tank by the lower spring, and hence
the place is still called “the Valley of Martyrs.”
In 1245 St. Simon Stock, a Kentish man, became General of the
Carmelites. He is said to have received from the Virgin the scapular or
distinctive tabard worn by the monks of this order; for sixteen years he
lived in a cave on Carmel, and was visited by St. Louis during his stay
in Palestine.
A monastery of St. Bertoldo rose round his cave, and its ruins are still
shown on the slope north-west of the present building, under the
lighthouse, near the chapel containing the cave of Simon Stock. In 1291,
however, the Saracens fell upon the monks whilst chanting the “Salve
Regina,” and massacred them all.
The history of the two subsequent monasteries gives a good example of
that energy and persistence which once formed the main characteristics
of the Church of Rome. In 1620 the order of Carmelites was extinct in
Palestine when a certain Father Prospero, of the monastery of Biscaglia
near Genoa, was ordered by his General to proceed with his monks to
Persia--probably he was found to be a dangerous man at home, for his
history bears witness to his ambitious and energetic character. He got
no farther than Carmel, where he left his companions and returned to
Rome to obtain leave from the Propaganda to establish a missionary
hospice on the mountain. In a second journey he obtained from the Pope
the title of Prior for himself and his successors, and, in 1631, he
bought the land round the Grotto of Elijah, where the present monastery
stands, and round the cave called “School of the Prophets” (now El
Khudr) at the foot of the promontory. He erected chapels in both places,
but a Moslem derwish succeeded in establishing himself at the latter
place, and in 1635 the Moslems took it by force and made it a mosque.
Quarrels and persecutions followed; in 1653 robbers stripped Father
Prospero and tied him to a tree. Soon after he died, and was buried in
the upper chapel.
In 1761 the famous Dhahr el ’Amr, of whom there is much to be said
later, had already made himself lord of Acre and king of Galilee; he
despoiled the monastery, and in 1767 ordered its destruction on the plea
that it was in a dangerous position on the slope of the hill. In 1775 he
was beheaded at Acre, and his son ’Aly in revenge massacred all the
monks.
In 1799 the sick of Napoleon’s army were sheltered in the monastery,
but, on his retreat, they were all killed by the Moslems. A pyramid in
the front garden of the monastery marks the grave where their bones were
afterwards laid by the monks. In 1821, by order of the Pacha of Acre,
the monastery was destroyed, and the new monks arriving from Europe saw
it in flames on the hill-top.
Warned by the natives not to land, they returned to Europe, but three of
them came back in 1825--Fra Gianbattista of Frascati, Fra Matteo of
Philippopolis, and Fra Giusto of Naples. They built the present
monastery from a design by the first named, and so strong has it been
made, with high walls and an apse which affords flank protection on the
east (where also, as being more exposed, there is a ditch), that the
monks need scarcely fear further massacres. In 1830 other monks arrived.
In 1872 Fra Matteo died in extreme old age, the last survivor of the
three founders. This information I obtained in 1875 from Fra Cirillo,
the lame lay brother, a courteous old man who delighted in stories of
the monastery.
Situate at the end of the ridge, five hundred feet above the sea,
reached by a steep ascent of steps, and guarded by a carefully-constructed
entrance to the courtyard and by savage dogs, the old monastery stands
facing the fresh breeze, and surrounded by vineyards and gardens, among
which small chapels are dedicated to the Virgin, to St. John Baptist,
and to St. Theresa, patroness of the bare-footed or reformed Carmelites.
The huge pile, square and lofty, with a dome to its chapel and a broad
flat roof, looks more like a castle than a house of devotion. Seventeen
monks inhabit it, but there is room for thirty, and beds are provided
for twenty-eight guests besides. The monastery owns three hundred goats
and twenty oxen, the monks dry tobacco for snuff, and make a scent
called “Eau de Carme” from the flowers of the mountain. They are
supposed only to eat meat when ill, but it is said that if a deer is
shot, some of the brethren are at once placed on the sick list; fish
they may eat, and they include under this category anything staying
longer in the water than on land--as for instance wild-duck and other
sea-fowl. Living in the monastery for six weeks, I found the monks to be
good-natured and fond of gossip, but fully convinced that in England the
sun was never seen, and that the people all lived on potatoes and cold
meat.
The chapel of the monastery is octagonal, and under the high altar is a
cave five yards long and three yards broad, with an altar of rock
dedicated to Elijah. Lighting two tapers, the old lay brother drew back
a curtain and showed us the statue of the Madonna del Carmine over the
high altar, well modelled in wood, life-size, and robed in white satin,
with the infant on her right arm, and in her left hand some of the
little square black charms so often worn round the neck in Italy. The
statue was made in Genoa early in this century. The niche is surrounded
with silver lamps offered by pilgrims.
Tradition says that in the “little cloud” over the sea Elijah beheld the
future Virgin Mother typified. It is remarkable, however, that the
native Christians prefer to offer vows to the old wooden statue of
Elijah on a side altar. It is covered with chains, bracelets, and
anklets, presented by peasants. A gold Austrian coin, worth five
Napoleons, is hung round its neck, with a filigree silver cross
presented by an English convert.
There is nothing remarkable in the chapel, which is gaudily painted in
modern Italian style. Over a side altar to the south, the heart of the
Count of Craon lies entombed, having been brought to the monastery in
1864.
Carmel is remarkable for the profusion of its flowers. In November we
found on its sides the cytisus, crocus, narcissus, the pink cistus, and
large camomile daisies, the colocasia, and the hawthorn in bud. The
Judas tree I have also twice found in remote parts, and in spring, wild
tulips, the dark red anemone like a poppy, the beautiful pink phlox, the
cyclamen, little purple stocks, large marigolds, wild geranium, and
saxifrage, with rock roses of three kinds, pink, yellow, and white.
Butterflies also flourish: orange-tips, sulphurs, the great swallow-tail
(Machaon), and a transparent species something like the Apollo,
apparently peculiar to the mountain, are the commonest.
Leaving the wild ridges of Carmel we must, however, descend to the plain
beneath, to the thriving town of Haifa, which has gradually grown in
size as Acre has sunk into decay, and which bids fair to be a place of
much importance should the prosperity of Palestine ever become greater.
Napoleon is said to have held that Acre was the key to Syria. The
natural advantages of the position are great. The bay is the only
harbour of importance south of Tyre; from Acre roads lead into Upper
Galilee, and southwards they ascend gradually to the watershed of Judea.
The whole of the great corn harvest of the Hauran finds a port at Acre,
and the rich Plain of Esdraelon close by forms a natural highway across
Palestine. But while Acre is the more important town, the south end of
the bay at Haifa is the best harbour, both because the projection of the
Carmel promontory breaks the force of the sea, and because the high
ridge of the mountain forms a shelter against equinoctial and other
south-western gales.
Haifa is not noticed in the Bible. In the Talmud it appears under the
same name, which means “a haven.” In the middle ages the place was
called Porphyreon by a strange mistake, the real town of that name being
north of Sidon. It was also known as Cayphas, and the derivations given
are very curious. Some supposed the name to come from Cephas, “a
stone,” from the stony mountain; others thought it was named from Simon
Peter, who was said to have fished here; whilst Sir John Maundeville
boldly asserts that it was built by and named after Caiaphas, the
high-priest.
The curious rock cemetery is mentioned by many Jewish travellers. It is
of value as showing both kinds of loculus to have been used by the Jews,
the tombs being close to the present Jewish graveyard, and having the
golden candlestick more than once represented on the façades. The place
appears, indeed, to have been always a favourite resort of the Jews, and
over 1000 are still to be found within its walls, forming a quarter of
the population, which includes 1100 Moslems and 1000 Greek Christians,
besides Latins, Greek Catholics, and Maronites.
The town is walled and well-built, with a mosque, a court-house, and
many large private dwellings. On the west side the extensive ruins of
“Ancient Haifa” stretch along the shore beyond the German colony; and
the magnificence of former buildings is attested by the fragments of
marble, granite, porphyry, and green-stone lying in the shingle on the
beach.
Two miles farther south-west are the remains of another large town, at
the place called Tell es Semak. There can scarcely be a doubt that this
is the ancient Sycaminon, often confused with Haifa, but a place
distinct and named from its sycamine fig-trees--a stunted specimen of
which still stands near, with its little figs growing out of the stem.
The appearance of the bay in winter was very fine. In calm weather we
looked northwards to the long ridge of Galilean mountains, with the
strong walls and white minaret of Acre beneath, and the snowy dome of
Hermon above. For five minutes every evening a glorious crimson flush
spread over the mountains, gradually dying out as the cold blue shadow
crept up the slopes. In the morning the long curve of the bay, the misty
hills, the beautiful line of palms along the dunes, with the sun rising
behind, made a subject fit for Turner’s pencil. The town itself, backed
by the Carmel bluff, was equally picturesque, with the old tower above
its walls, riddled by English shot and shell in 1840, yet still mounting
one gun. As the winter went on, the heavy seas came rolling in round the
promontory, and a cormorant, or a Mother Carey’s chicken, might be seen
hovering over the waves, or a flight of wild duck bobbing on the
rollers. Great shoals of fish came in, and were caught with the
primitive cast-nets of the naked fishermen; and, after the storm, the
beach would be found strewn with shells, amongst which the _Murex
trunculus_ was common, from which the Tyrian purple was derived.
The Khilzon, or murex, is, indeed, closely connected with Carmel. The
Rabbis understood the expression, “riches of the deep,” to refer to the
Khilzon, and to be promised to the tribe of Zebulon as an inheritance.
The Khilzon was fished at a place called after it, and as far north as
Phœnicia. Its name still exists in the modern Wâdy Halzûn, a valley
tributary to the Belus River, near Acre, in which river the murex was
found. The expression in the Song of Songs, “thine head ... like Carmel
... the hair of thine head like purple” (vii. 5), was also understood by
the Jews to refer to the Khilzon, and, by a natural elision, to its
being found under Carmel.
The murex gave many colours, from green and deep blue to red, but the
Tyrian purple was the dark blood-colour, like the darkest of “black
roses” as the ancients called them, and only one drop of the dye was
found in the vein of the mollusk, which circumstance accounted for the
expensiveness of the Tyrian garments.
The Kishon, as noticed in a former chapter, enters the plain of Acre by
a narrow gorge under the cliffs of Carmel, on the north side of the
ridge. From this point it gradually works away north-west, and is fed by
fine springs from the foot of the mountain, and also from near the low
hills on the right bank. Most of these springs, but especially ’Ain
S’adeh and the ’Ayûn el Werd, flowing from among the rocks near the foot
of Carmel, are perennial. Thus, beneath the main ford, west of El
Harathîyeh (Harosheth of the Gentiles), the river is full of water even
in autumn. Above this point its stony bed is hidden by the oleander
bushes, but below it flows slowly through a barren, marshy plain,
between banks some ten feet high--an impassable stream, having a fall of
eighty feet in the last five miles of its course.
The mouth is curious; the prevailing winds blow from the south-west, and
the dunes are gradually heaping up and advancing on this side, so that
the river is always forming new mouths farther north. The lagoons now
existing behind the dunes on the left bank are perhaps results of the
former course. The river breaks through the sand and flows to the sea
when the wind is from the east; but, even in wet years, a bar is formed
whenever the wind is in the west, blowing on shore. Thus I have found it
almost impassable in September, before the rains, but quite dry in
January, after they had fallen, according to the wind.
Few scenes more picturesque and more thoroughly Oriental are to be found
in Palestine than that at the mouth of the Kishon. The palms, which
flourish only on the coast, where water and sand occur together and
frost is never experienced, are here found all along the dunes and round
the lagoons; the banks, some thirty yards apart, are fringed with rushes
and a sort of pink, fleshy-leaved plant. Along the sides stand the grey
herons, watching for fish, whilst here and there a white egret steps
daintily about, and on the sand the Kentish dottrell runs hastily
seawards as the waves ebb out, and the red-shanks and sandpipers skim
along in large flocks. Behind all rises the dark steep slope of Carmel,
with white piles of cloud above, and a foreground of palms sets the
scene in an appropriate frame.
The birds are very numerous. Wild-duck and snipe are found in the
marshes, the African king-fisher hovers over the stream, and various
species of gulls flit along the shore. The crabs swarm along the line of
the bay, and occasionally a great number of rays and skates. In the
deeper water a porpoise is sometimes to be seen, and many species of
good edible fish are caught.
Acre is a walled town, with a single gate on the south-east. Its trade
is now much reduced, and the bazaars are deserted; the richest
inhabitant is not worth £1000. The ramparts, blown up by the English in
1840, remain in ruins, and the whole place has a desolate appearance.
The port was filled up in the seventeenth century, by Fakhr ed Din, and,
in the whole space between the walls and the old Crusading pier--a
breadth of 700 yards east and west, by 350 north and south--the greatest
depth of water is only six feet, the average being two or three. The
appearance of the town outside is picturesque; with brown walls, a tower
on a rock in the sea, called, from the fourteenth century downwards (and
perhaps earlier) El Manâra, yellow stone houses, with two higher
buildings, roofed with red tiles, and with green shutters; above all,
the large white mosque of Jezzar Pacha, a square building, with a dome
and a graceful minaret, surrounded by palms, and with chambers for the
students, covered by rows of little round domes; behind this, the modern
barrack, on the site of the old Crusading castle.
Entering the town, I found many of the bazaars turned into cavalry
stables, and only about one shop in ten inhabited. In the southern part,
however, a busier scene may be witnessed.
Near the Greek convent I found, in ruins, the tombs of two English
officers, who fell in a sortie in 1799, Major Oldfield and Colonel
Walker, of the Marines. The name-plate of the second had been stolen,
and the whole monument was in a disgraceful condition. I afterwards had
these two tombs repaired, and a new title and head-stone made by Mr.
Shumacher for that of Colonel Walker, whose name I obtained from the
English Consular agent. I had them railed in, and thus protected from
insult, and public proclamation was made by the Governor to cause them
to be respected. Unfortunately, I have never been able to revisit them
since they were repaired, though I believe they are still in good order.
The walls of Acre are of masonry, drafted after the fashion used by the
Crusaders, and they probably date in part from that period. The powder
magazine, blown up in 1840 by the English, is still in ruins; rusty guns
are pointed in the embrasures. On the north and east are bastions with a
very slight projection, a glacis, and ravelin. Two mortars were shown as
left behind by Napoleon, and English cannon-balls are visible sticking
in the walls of the castle.
The great mosque of Jezzar Pacha is built of materials brought from
’Athlît, Cæsarea, and Haifa. The north entrance, from the rudely-paved
street leading to the castle, is flanked by a beautiful little fountain
with rich lattice-work of marble. The square yard within is paved with
black and white marble in bands; lofty palms grow between the paved
walks, and a colonnade runs round, supported on shafts of marble and red
granite, with rude capitals not originally made for the pillars. In the
centre is an octagonal fountain of marble, some five feet high,
surmounted by a wooden dome, once beautifully painted. The mosque within
has a porch, with lofty granite columns, capped with marble. It is a
large square building, cased in coloured marble, with little cloisters
on three sides, the dome above painted and whitewashed, with a gallery
round the drum. The fresco-painting is much worn. An English clock is
placed at each side of the door, set to Arabic time (six o’clock being
noon), and standing in a high case of walnut. The Mihrab, or
prayer-niche, on the south wall, is handsomely adorned with flagging of
marble, and is high enough to stand in.
The Moslems were at prayer. A peasant, in a gorgeous head-shawl, a dark
blue jacket, and a robe (kumbâz) of pink and white stripes, was
performing the usual genuflections and prostrations. A wooden torch, six
feet high, in imitation of the wax torches brought from Mecca (such as
exist at Jerusalem in the mosque), is placed on either side of the
Mihrab, and to the right is a handsome marble pulpit. A long inscription
in yellow letters on a blue ground runs round the walls of the mosque.
Two beautifully carved stone tombs are shown in the courtyard near the
minaret; but the tomb of the founder is in the north-east corner of the
town.
Passing through the crooked, narrow, ill-paved lanes of Acre, where huge
camels jostle the crowd of bright-coloured peasants and Bedawin, we
visited the “galères,” or convict prison, so much dreaded by the
natives, because hard labour is enforced on the prisoners. The dark
vaults are entered by a wooden door, from between the bars of which
heads and arms were stuck out, the convicts shouting for charity--the
whole scene a perfect pandemonium.
There were no less than 300 cavalry in Acre, well mounted on fine
half-bred horses; but the place has no real strength, and its
fortifications could not resist the attacks of modern warfare.
Acre is not a city famous in Scripture. It is noticed, indeed, under the
names Accho and Ptolemais; but the Jews were not a maritime people, and
it had not, therefore, in their eyes, the importance which afterwards
made it “the key to Syria.”
The Crusaders recognised at once the value of its position, and Baldwin
I. besieged it in 1103, as soon as Jerusalem was secured. The garrison
were relieved by a fleet from Tyre; but, in the following year, it fell
into the hands of the Christians, after twenty-five days’ siege. In the
disastrous year, 1187, Saladin took it without a blow; but the place was
too important to be lost, and the Christians again took it in 1191. In
1229, the Knights Hospitallers settled here, whence its modern title,
St. Jean d’Acre; but it was finally lost, in 1291, when the son of
Kalawûn levelled it to the ground.
In its palmy days, the town contained a church to St. Andrew, of which a
few arches still remain near the sea; a second of St. Michael, now
destroyed; a third of St. John, possibly now a mosque; a castle, where
the modern barrack stands; a hospital of the Knights of St. John, now
the military hospital; and a patriarchate, now perhaps a monastery. On
the south the mole ran out south-east and east, closing in the port, and
terminated by the rock and tower of El Manâra. There were two lines of
wall on the north and east, and in the angle was the famous tower called
“Tower of Flies,” or “Maledictum,” which long resisted King Richard,
when besieging the town from the great mound called Turon, on the east,
where also Napoleon made his attack.
There was a sort of suburb on the north, with a double wall, which now
seems to have disappeared entirely, though the sea-rampart is, in all
probability, Crusading work. The southern quarter of the town belonged
to the Venetians, and north of them the Germans had several streets. The
Templars and Hospitallers had each their Custodia; and, in the
thirteenth century, the Teutonic knights had wide possessions, in the
plains round Acre, and among the villages, or “casales,” as they called
them, of Lower Galilee.
The splendid buildings of the Christians were levelled to the ground,
and the place remained desolate until 1749 A.D.
The rebuilding of ’Akka, as the town is now called, was effected by the
celebrated Dhahr el ’Amr, of the Zeidaniyîn family. The rise and fall of
this famous house forms a natural parallel to that of the native Jewish
ruling family of the Hasmoneans. Zeidan was a chief of Arab race settled
in the town of ’Arrâbeh, north of the Buttauf plain. The power of the
family gradually extended, until Dhahr el ’Amr, his grandson, became
virtually King of Galilee. Under this famous Sheikh, who paid no
tribute, and who governed all Lower and a great part of Upper Galilee,
eight districts, including 162 villages, were ruled by his eight sons.
Strong forts were erected all over the country, many of which still
remain, while in the other cases the foundations only are visible. The
mosque and Serai (or court-house) of Haifa, the castles of Shefa-’Amr,
Jedin, and Seffurieh, the fortress of Deir Hanna, the walls and mosques
of Tiberias, and part of the fortifications of Acre, were built by this
family, while many mills and works of irrigation by the Sea of Galilee
date from the same period. The country appears to have been prosperous
under the rule of its native chiefs, and their buildings are remarkable
for good workmanship and well-chosen positions.
But, in 1775, Dhahr, who had long been governor at Acre--where his walls
still stand, with an inscription on them, giving the date of their
construction--was seized and beheaded by the cruel Bosnian Pacha called
Jezzar, or “butcher,” from his many murders. The old man was nearly
ninety when he died. His family decayed in power, and it has been so
persecuted by the Turks, that now only one representative remains in the
village of B’aîneh. From him we obtained lists of the possessions of the
Zeidaniyîn, of their fortresses and towns, their mosques and public
buildings, with the names of the various builders and approximate dates.
Under Jezzar Pacha, Acre again declined in prosperity. The cruelties of
this governor are well known, and remembered among the people. His
murder of seven of his wives, whom he beheaded with his own hand, the
mutilation of his servants, and of all who offended him, are often
spoken of. It was Jezzar whom Sir Sidney Smith assisted, in 1799,
against Napoleon, when besieging Acre from King Richard’s Hill, and the
defeat of the Emperor was followed, as before noticed, by the massacre
of the sick on Carmel.
Jezzar died in 1804, and, since then, Acre has had no history, excepting
in 1840, when the English fleet bombarded the town, and drove out the
forces of Ibrahim Pacha, who had taken it in 1832. There are many
inhabitants who can well remember the short, sharp engagement, and the
terrific explosion of the powder magazine, which killed 2000 Egyptians.
Since this disaster, the prosperity of the place has dwindled more and
more, so that it now contains only some 8000 inhabitants. Should
Palestine, however, be destined to form the theatre of future military
operations, the name of Acre will no doubt be often heard again in
English mouths.