A few hundred feet north of Jacob’s well, in the same “parcel of
ground,” is Joseph’s tomb. The structure over it is modern, and is an
ordinary Mohammedan _wely_. There is, however, no reason to doubt the
authenticity of the tradition which fixes upon this as the sepulchre of
the patriarch. The deep alluvial soil would not allow of the interment
being in a rock-hewn grave; but if the coffin were of granite or
alabaster, like those of Egyptian magnates, it might yet be recovered if
excavation were permitted. We have, however, already seen, when speaking
of the cave of Machpelah, that the Mohammedans assert that the body was
removed from its original place of sepulture and placed with those of
the other patriarchs at Hebron.
[Illustration: EVENING ON A HOUSETOP.
_From an original sketch by W. J. Webb._
]
The valley leading up to NABLUS, the Neapolis of the Romans, the Sychar
or Shechem of the Jews, is one of rare beauty. Dr. Porter says, with
slight exaggeration, “it is the finest in Palestine—in fact, it is the
only really beautiful site from Dan to Beersheba.” Without the grandeur
of the snow-crowned peaks of Switzerland, it yet reminded me of the
Swiss-Italian valleys in its bright colour and rich vegetation. Van de
Velde’s description of it is graphic and truthful: “Here there is no
wilderness, here there are no wild thickets, yet there is always
verdure; always shade, not of the oak, the terebinth, and the
carob-tree, but of the olive grove—so soft in colour, so picturesque in
form, that for its sake we can willingly dispense with all other wood.
Here there are no impetuous mountain-torrents, yet there is water;
water, too, in more copious supplies than anywhere else in the land; and
it is just to its many fountains, rills and water courses that the
valley owes its exquisite beauty.... There is a singularity about the
Vale of Shechem, and that is the peculiar colouring which objects assume
in it. You know that wherever there is water, the air becomes charged
with watery particles; and that distant objects beheld through that
medium seem to be enveloped in a pale blue or grey mist, such as
contributes not a little to give a charm to the landscape. But it is
precisely these atmospheric tints that we miss so much in Palestine.
Fiery tints are to be seen both in the morning and the evening, and
glittering violet or purple-coloured hues where the light falls next to
the long deep shadows; but there is an absence of colouring, and of that
charming dusky haze in which objects assume such softly blended forms,
and in which also the transition in colour from the foreground to the
farthest distance loses the hardness of outline peculiar to the perfect
transparency of an eastern sky. It is otherwise in the Vale of Shechem,
at least in the morning and the evening. Here the exhalations remain
hovering among the branches and leaves of the olive-trees, and hence
that lovely bluish haze. The valley is far from broad, not exceeding in
some places a few hundred feet. This you find generally enclosed on all
sides; there likewise the vapours are condensed. And so you advance
under the shade of the foliage along the living waters, and charmed by
the melody of a host of singing birds—for they, too, know where to find
their best quarters—while the perspective fades away, and is lost in the
damp vapoury atmosphere.”[196]
To enjoy this lovely scenery in its full perfection, we must spend the
evening hours on one of the flat roofs of the city. One such evening I
shall never forget. Ebal and Gerizim were glowing in the light of the
setting sun. The long stretch of orchards and gardens along the valley
were already dim in the purple shadows. The noise from the crowded
streets died away. The stars began to peep out. The landscape faded from
view. Our evening hymn of praise ascended to the God of Abraham, and
Isaac, and Jacob, who “sendeth darkness and it is night.”
The abundance of water to which Van de Velde refers raises the question
why Jacob should have dug a well so deep, with so much cost and labour,
when the natural springs of the valley would have sufficed him? Why,
too, should the Samaritan woman have come hither from the city, nearly
two miles distant, to draw water, when she must have passed numerous
fountains by the way? The reply to the first question is, that
throughout the East water is jealously guarded by the inhabitants, who
resent the intrusion of strangers upon their rights. In the book of
Genesis, as amongst the fellahin and bedouin of to-day, we find no case
of contention as to pasturage, but numerous instances of feuds arising
out of the use of wells and fountains. And, as Dean Stanley remarks, we
have here an illustration of the characteristic prudence and caution of
Jacob, who carefully avoided all causes of quarrel with the tribes
amongst whom he had settled.
The reply to the second question is probably to be found in the fact
that there are indications that the ancient city extended farther to the
eastward and nearer to the well than the present. There may, too, have
been reasons for preferring the water drawn from hence. Its superior
quality—orientals are epicures in this respect—or the hallowed
associations connected with the well may have prompted the Samaritans to
fetch it from a distance, though there were fountains close at
hand.[197]
Doubts and difficulties have often been expressed as to the possibility
of the law being read on the opposite mountains of Ebal and Gerizim
whilst the people were encamped between them. It has been said that at
so great a distance the voices must have been inaudible. Some
commentators have felt this so strongly that they have sought for an
Ebal and Gerizim elsewhere. Infidels have made merry over the assumed
incredibility of the narrative.[198] But no real difficulty exists. Just
where the valley begins to narrow a deep depression indents the sides of
the opposing mountains, up which at the height of a few hundred feet two
level _plateaux_ confront each other. At this spot, which seems as
though it had been created for the very purpose, the reading of the law
probably took place, the priests standing on the plateau on either side,
the people in the plain below. We tried the experiment under the most
unfavourable circumstances. A very high wind was blowing down the
valley, carrying the sounds away from us. Neither of the readers had
powerful voices. And yet not only could we who remained in the valley
hear them, but they heard one another with sufficient distinctness to
read alternate verses, each beginning where the other left off. Had the
day been calm or the readers possessed voices of greater power, every
word would have been distinctly audible. This is due partly to the
conformation of the hill sides forming, as it were, a double
amphitheatre, partly to the elastic quality of the dry atmosphere of
Syria which conveys sound to an amazing distance.
The side of Ebal, the mountain of the cursing, is barren and rocky as
compared with that of Gerizim, the mountain of the blessing. The latter
is clothed with abundant pasturage to the very summit. The ascent is
steep and difficult, but it well repays the labour, even if it were for
the view alone. Nearly the whole extent of Palestine is visible—the
hills of Galilee, the mountains of Benjamin and Judah, the Mediterranean
and the great Philistine plain, the valley of the Jordan, the plains of
Bashan and the mountains of Moab. Hermon is just hidden by an
intervening height. The Samaritans assert, and many modern scholars
maintain, that here, and not on the southern Moriah, Abraham was about
to sacrifice Isaac. A more imposing site could hardly be found, and
reading the narrative on the spot the imagination is strongly enlisted
in favour of the opinion which has found so able a defender in Dean
Stanley.
[Illustration: RUINS ON THE SUMMIT OF GERIZIM.]
But that which invests the summit of Gerizim with an interest absolutely
unique, is the fact that here, and here alone, the feast of the Passover
is still celebrated in accordance with the Mosaic ritual. The Jews for
eighteen centuries have been unable to observe their great national
festival. The Samaritans have never ceased to do so. I should gladly
have been present at this interesting ceremony, but as it wanted three
weeks to the full moon of the month Nisan, I was unable to remain. I
received, however, a minute description of the ceremony from a native of
Nablus who has often witnessed it, and Yacoub, the high priest, gave me
much information on the subject.
Near the ruins of their ancient Temple and, as they allege, close to the
spot where Abraham offered Isaac, and Joshua placed the stones inscribed
with the words of the law from Gilgal, two pits have been dug, and a
long trench formed and lined with stones. Early in the morning of the
day the officials commence their preparations. Fuel is gathered and a
large fire kindled in each of the pits, prayers being recited the whole
time. Over one of the pits two large cauldrons are placed and filled
with water. In the afternoon, the lambs five or six in number, are
driven to the spot. The narrative of the institution of the Passover is
now chanted in a high key, the women who stand round joining in with
shrill excited cries. At a signal from the priest the lambs are thrown
across the trench, and, in an instant, a keen long knife is drawn twice
across the throat of each, nearly severing the head from the body. When
the blood has been thoroughly drained from the carcase it is either
dipped into the cauldron or the boiling water is poured over it to
enable the _shochetim_ to strip off the wool without difficulty. The
entrails having been taken out and burnt, the portions allotted to the
priests removed and salt added, the bodies are placed upon spits made,
it is said, of pomegranate wood. A transverse bar is affixed to one end
of the spit to prevent the body slipping. This forms a rude cross.
Justin Martyr, a native of Nablus, writing in the second century, says
that the fore-legs were fastened to the cross-bar. Though this is no
longer done, there is no reason to doubt the accuracy of his statement,
nor can we wonder that he saw in it a type of the crucifixion of the
true Paschal Lamb. The bodies are now placed amongst the hot ashes of
the oven prepared for the purpose. A hurdle is placed over it and
covered with earth so as to retain the heat. In about three hours the
earth is removed, the hurdle torn off and the lambs drawn out amidst the
wild excited cries of the people. During the early part of the ceremony
they had stood barefooted in acknowledgment of the sanctity of the
place, but now having resumed their shoes, tied girdles of rope round
their waists and taken staves in their hands, they proceed eagerly and
hastily to tear off and eat portions from the bodies, over which bitter
herbs have been sprinkled. In an incredibly short time the whole has
been consumed excepting the bones. These are then collected and with
every fragment that can be found, after the most diligent search, are
thrown into the fire to be consumed. The ceremony concludes soon after
midnight. It was described to me as strangely impressive. The wild cries
of the worshippers, the glare of the fires, the mountain top and the
surrounding landscape lit up by the light of the full moon, the solemn
associations of the rite and the place, must together make up a scene of
intense interest.
The Samaritans—“the smallest and the oldest sect in the world”—are now
reduced to one hundred and twenty persons, all of whom reside in Nablus.
The aged priest Amram, mentioned favourably by Wilson, Dean Stanley, and
Mills, has lately been deposed from his office in consequence of an
intrigue conducted by his nephew and successor, Yacoub. The latter looks
about thirty years of age, though he is probably older. He has
remarkably handsome and finely-chiselled features, but with a sinister,
unpleasant expression. He professes to be able to trace his pedigree in
an unbroken line from Aaron. The account he gives of his ancestry is
that, down to the time of Nehemiah the high priesthood continued in one
unbroken line, but that then one of the sons of Joiada, the son of
Eliashib, the high priest, having married the daughter of Sanballat, the
governor of Samaria,[199] refused to put her away when required to do
so. Hereupon a schism took place, and from this point his genealogy
follows a different line to that of the high priest of Jerusalem. He
said that a genealogical table, laid up with the copies of the law in
the Holy Place of the synagogue, gave all the generations of this
pedigree, and that it recorded the most memorable events that happened
in the period of each high priest. He declared that amongst these
memorabilia was one recording that “a prophet named Jesus had appeared
at Jerusalem, but that the priests there, with their usual wickedness
and malignity, had put him to death out of envy.” If such a contemporary
record does indeed exist, it would be a document of extraordinary
interest and value. He adhered to his statement, notwithstanding my
strongly-expressed incredulity, and promised to send me extracts from
the original roll. These, however, I have not received. The character
for untruthfulness which the Samaritans bear excites suspicion, but it
is difficult to see what he could hope to gain by deceiving me.
The synagogue of the Samaritans is a small secluded edifice, entered
through a walled garden, out of which an enclosed court conducts into
the building itself. It is only thirty-seven feet and a few inches in
length, and perhaps twenty feet in breadth; the walls are whitewashed
and the floor covered with matting. A place is railed off for the Holy
Place, in a recess of which the volumes of the law are kept. We were of
course anxious to see the famous copy of the Pentateuch, declared to
have been written by “Abishua, the great grandson of Aaron, at the door
of the Tabernacle in the thirteenth year of the settlement of the
children of Israel” in the Holy Land. Though this is recorded in the
body of the manuscript itself, the statement is discredited, and the
most contradictory opinions are entertained amongst scholars as to its
actual date, some ascribing to it a venerable antiquity, and others
insisting that it is comparatively modern.
Having taken off our shoes at the entrance, Yacoub locked the door, so
that none of his co-religionists might enter, and took out from the
recess a roll of the law, which he declared to be the one we desired to
see. According to his usual custom, however, he was endeavouring to palm
off upon us a duplicate instead of the original. He persisted to the
last in the assertion that this duplicate was the copy shown to the
Prince of Wales and his party in 1853, and there seems reason to believe
that this was really the case. The fraud being detected, he, after much
hesitation and a promise of liberal backshish, produced the genuine
manuscript. It is wrapped in a cover of red satin embroidered with gold,
and enclosed in a cylinder of silver, which opens on hinges.
[Illustration: CYLINDER ENCLOSING THE SAMARITAN PENTATEUCH.]
[Illustration: TRANSLATION OF THE INSCRIPTIONS ON THE COVER.]
Mr. Mills, who resided three months in Nablus in order to acquaint
himself thoroughly with the Samaritans, says of it: “The roll itself is
of what we should call parchment, but of a material much older than
that, written in columns twelve inches deep and seven and a half inches
wide. The writing is in a fair hand, but not nearly so large or
beautiful as the book-copies which I had previously examined. The
writing being rather small, each column contains from seventy to
seventy-two lines. The name of the scribe is written in a kind of
acrostic, and forms part of the text, running through three columns, and
is found in the Book of Deuteronomy. Whether it be the real work of the
great grandson of Aaron, as indicated in the writing, I leave the reader
to judge; the roll, at all events, has all the appearance of a very high
antiquity, and wonderfully well preserved, considering its venerable
age.”
[Illustration:
TWO PAGES OF A BOOK COPY OF THE SAMARITAN PENTATEUCH.
FROM A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN FOR THE “PALESTINE EXPLORATION FUND.”
]
One of the halves of the metal cylinder is very curious, and deserves
more attention than it has received at the hands of Biblical
archæologists. It is of silver, about two feet six inches long, by ten
or twelve inches in diameter, and is covered with embossed work with a
descriptive legend attached to each portion. I procured a rubbing from
Yacoub, and on my return to England found that it had been photographed
by the Palestine Exploration Fund. Yacoub said that it was a plan of the
Temple and its furniture; on examination, however, it proves to be the
Tabernacle of the Wilderness. Mr. Van Straalen, successor to Mr. Deutsch
at the British Museum, has been good enough to examine it for me, and
reports that the letters are Samaritan, not later than the fourth
century, and probably older. Some of the lettering he has been unable to
decipher. The annexed engravings show the cylinder and a translation of
the inscriptions, so far as they are yet read.
On the outer rim are a series of numbers running from one to sixty.
These probably refer to the posts, which appear to have been numbered so
as to avoid confusion and delay in the erection of the Tabernacle on its
arrival at the camping-ground. The instructions given to Moses “in the
Mount,” were, that there should be twenty boards on each side, but at
the corners were to be two boards additional. At the end, behind the
most holy place, were to be six boards. Nothing is said about the
entrance, which apparently was to be left open.[200] Posts, however,
would be needed to sustain the framework with its covering. This would
give 24 + 24 + 6 + 6 = 60, the numbers shown in the plan.
We then find the names of the twelve tribes. These are given not
according to patriarchal seniority or tribal precedence, but in the
order of the encampment and march, as recorded in the Book of Numbers.
Judah, Issachar, and Zebulon are on one side. These tribes formed the
vanguard of the army, and were followed on the march by the Tabernacle
itself. Then came Reuben, Simeon, and Gad. As soon as they “set forward”
they were followed by the ark, which was thus in the midst of the people
whether marching or camping. Ephraim, Manasseh, and Benjamin come next;
then Dan, Asher, and Naphtali bring up the rear.[201]
In the Holiest of Holies we find the ark, with its crown or rim of
beaten gold, upon which are the cherubim kneeling face to face, whilst
their wings projecting behind them overshadow the mercy-seat.[202] On
one side of the ark is the staff of Moses, on the other that of Aaron.
The veil hangs down in front concealing the mysterious recess.
Immediately in front of the veil are the stations of the Levites. The
altar of incense comes next, and then the table of shewbread with the
candlestick “over against the table, on the side of the tabernacle,
southward.”[203] The spoons, bowls, and covers are marked in the place
indicated by Moses near the table.[204] The entrance from the outer
court was, as the Talmud describes it, not in the centre, but on the
right-hand side.
The laver stands at “the door of the Tabernacle of the congregation,”
that the priests might wash as they entered into the holy place.[205]
Near it is the altar of burnt offering, with its “brazen grate of
network of brass.”[206] This grating or network has been the subject of
much controversy amongst Biblical critics. The representation here
given, favours the view of those who suppose it to have been an inclined
plane leading up to the altar. The censer is placed immediately over
against the altar of burnt offering, that the priests might take the
coals from the sacrifice, and therewith offer the incense of
thanksgiving.[207] The flesh-hooks, forks, knives, pans, and basins, are
represented as arranged around the altar.[208] The trumpets at the
entrance are peculiar in form, and may throw some light upon a question
much debated amongst students of the Talmud as to the shape of one which
appears to have been bent in the manner represented. The date and value
of this curious relic are as yet doubtful. Subsequent investigations may
throw light upon its origin.
[Illustration: IN A BAZAAR.]
The few survivors of the Samaritans are now rent asunder by intestine
feuds. Apparently, they will speedily cease to exist altogether. Their
synagogue rolls may then come into the hands of Europeans, and receive a
more careful and thorough examination than has been hitherto possible.
In Nablus alone of all the cities of Palestine is it possible to see and
feel what “the good land” was in the days of its prosperity. In addition
to the fertility of its soil and the beauty of its situation, there is
an air of activity and life which is wanting elsewhere. Lying on the
main road between the interior and the coast it has a considerable
traffic. Its bazaars are crowded with bedouin from beyond the Jordan,
with the peasantry of the valley, and with Russian, Armenian and Greek
pilgrims who, having landed at Haifa, are on their way to Jerusalem. The
wrangling and chaffering between the buyers and sellers belonging to
these various nationalities offer a curious contrast to the quiet modes
of transacting business at home. The shopkeeper begins by asking four
times as much as he means to take. The customer meets him by bidding a
fourth of what he means to give. Bystanders join in the negotiation. The
whole party work themselves up into what appears to be a fit of
uncontrollable fury, shrieking and yelling at one another in their
guttural Arabic till manslaughter seems imminent. At length the bargain
is concluded, and peace is restored.
Nablus boasts of some manufactures. Considerable quantities of soap are
made, and one large factory has quite a European look. The oil produced
here is the best in Palestine; and large quantities of cotton are grown.
[Illustration: GATE AT NABLUS.]
[Illustration: Head-Piece]
NABLUS TO THE PLAIN OF ESDRAELON.
A CHARMING ride of about six miles north-west from Nablus brings us to
Samaria. The road follows the valley for some distance, and then mounts
the western shoulder of Ebal. As we reach the crest of the ridge, a
beautiful and fertile plain, surrounded by hills, bursts upon us. In the
centre of the basin rises a flat-topped hill, its sides terraced to the
summit, on which stand the remains of the ancient city. Rows of columns
are seen clear and sharp against the skyline, and amongst the mean
houses of the peasantry stand the ruins of the magnificent city built
here by Herod, and called by him Sebaste (= Augusta) in honour of his
imperial patron.
[Illustration: RUINED CHURCH OF ST. JOHN IN SAMARIA.]
The great and obvious advantages of the site of Samaria make it
extraordinary that a city did not exist here at a very early period. The
Biblical narrative, however, is clear, that it was built by Omri, the
father of Ahab, who bought the hill from Shemer for two talents of
silver, and built on it a city which he called Samaria, after the name
of the former proprietor.[209] Shechem, the earlier capital, lying in a
valley, was exposed to attack. Samaria seated on a hill could be easily
defended, and was more central. The seat of government was, therefore,
removed thither, and gave its name to the northern confederacy. The
strength of its position is proved by the fact that it sustained two
severe sieges from the Syrians who attacked it with “all their
hosts.”[210] On the first occasion Benhadad, brought against it
“thirty-two kings,” his allies. On the second, it held out till the last
horrors of famine had been endured. In both cases the city finally
escaped by divine intervention; but it must have been almost impregnable
to have held out against such formidable attacks.