dtX^/OL^ Cornell arV1474 The lands of the Saracen : 3 1924 031 244 332 olin,anx The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 244332 f!— The Valley of Kiimbeh— A Land of Flowers — Turcoman Ilosj itality— The Exiled Effendis— The Old Turcoman— A Glimpse of Aicadia— A Landscape— Inter, ested Friendship— The Valley of the Pursek — Arrival at Klutahya . . • OT| CHAPTER XXIII. EICTAHTA, AND THE BUINS OF CEZANI. Entrance into Kiutahya —The New Khan — An Unpleasant Discovery — Klutahya — The Citadel— Panorama from the Walls — ^The Gorge of the Mountains — Oamp In a Meadovr— The Valley of the Rhyndacns — Ohardar — The Ruins of (KzanI— The Acro- polis and Temple — The Theatre and Stadium— Ride down the Valley- Camp at Daghj* Kui CHAPTER XXIV. THE UTBIAN OLYMPUS. Journey Down the Valley— The Plague of Grasshoppers— A Defile— The Town of TaU' shania — The Camp of Famine — We leave the Rhyndacns — ^The Base of Olympus— Primeval Forests — The Guard-House — Scenery of the Summit — Forests of Beech— Saw-HiUa — Descent of the Mountain — "the View of Olympus — Morning — ^The Land of Harvest — Aineghiol — A Showery Ride — The Plain of Bronsa — The Structure of Olym- pna— We reach Brousa— The Tent Is Furled 800 CHAPTER XXV. BBO0SA AND THB SEA OF MABHOBA. riie city of Brousa— Rvturn to Civilization— Storm— The Kalputcha Ilammam— A Hoi Bath— A Foretaste of Paradise— The Streets and Baiaars of Bronsa— The Mosque— The Tombs of the Ottoman Sultans— Disappearance of the Katnrgees— We start foi Moudanla— The Sea of Marmora— Moudania— Passport Difflcultiea— A Greek Caique — Brealifast with the Fishermen— A Torrid Voyage— The Princes' Islands— Prlnklpo— Distant View of Constantinople— We enter the Golden Horn . . . . Sli CHAPTER XXVI. THE NIOHT OF PREDESTINATION. OoiiBtaaliiiople In RamaEan— The Origin of the Fast— Nightly niumlnattons— The Night - The Court of the Pish-pond— The Halls of the Alhambra— Character of the Archite& ture— Uall cf tliu Abencerrages— Hall of the Two Sistera— The Moorish Dynastj ia epala 4U CHAPTER XXXVI. THE BKIDLE-BOADS OP ANDALUSIA. Change of Weathei^-Napoleon and his Horses— Departure from Granada— My Guide, Josi Garcia- His Domestic Troubles— The Tragedy of the Umbrella— The Vow against Aguardiente— Crossing the Vega — The Sierra Nevada— The Baths of Alhama— " Woe Is Me, Alhama I"— The Valley of the River Velea— Velez Malaga— The Coast Road— The Fisherman and his Donkey— Malaga— Summer Scenery— The Story of Don Pedro, Ritbout Fear and without Care— The Field of Monda— A Lonely Venta . • 437 CHAPTER XXXVII. THE MOUNTAINS OF RONDA. ttroDge Valleys — Climbing the Mountains — Jos6's Hospitality — El Burgo — The Gate of the Wind— The Cliff and Cascades of Ronda— The Mountain Region— Traces of the Moors — Haunts of Robbers — A Stormy Ride — The Inn at Gaucia — Bad Newd— A Boyish Auxiliary— Descent from the Mountains— The Fcrd of the Ouadiaro~Ou> Fears Relieved— The Cork Woods — Hide from 8an Roque to Gibraltar— Parting witli Jos6— TrsveUlog in Bjuin— Ooaolunloii ....'•.. i8S THE LANDS OF THE SARACEJSV CHAPTER I. LIFE IN A SYRIAN QUARANTINE. oyage from Alexandria to Beyrout — Landing at Quarantine— The Guardiano — Oul Quarters — Our Companions — Famine and Feasting — The Morning — The Holy Man of Timbuctoo — Sunday in Quarantine — Xslamism— Wc are Registered — Love through a Grating— Trumpets — The Mystery Explained — Delights of Quarantine — Oriental vs, American Exaggeration — A Discussion of Politics — Our Release — Beyrout — Prepara- tioDS for the Pilgrimage. " The mountains loolc on Quarantine, And Quarantine loolcs on the sea." QnABAMTtXS HS. In QtrARANTIME, BETAnUTf Satm-da/tfj April 17, 1852. 4 Everybody has heard of Quarantine, but in onr favored coun- try there are many untravelled persons who do not precisely know what it is, and who no doubt wonder why it should be such a bugbear to travellers in the Orient. I confess I am still somewhat in the same predicament myself, although I have already been twenty-four hours in Quarantine. Rut, as a peculiarity of the place is, that one can do nothing, however good a will he has, I propose to set down my expe- riences each day, hoping that I and my readers may obtain J 8 THE I;ANDa OF THE SAKACEN. some insight into the nature of Quarantine, before the term of my probation is over. I left Alexandria on the afternoon of the 14th inst., in com pany with Mr. Carter Harrison, a fellow-countryman, who had joined me in Cairo, for the tour through Palestine. We had u head wind and rough S'ja, xiuA I remained in a torpid state daring most of the voyage. There was rain the second night ; but, when the clouds cleared away yesterday morning, we were gladdened by the sight of Lebanon, whose summits glittered with streaks of snow. The lower slopes of the moun- tains were green with fields and forests, and B^yrout, when we ran up to it, seemed buried almost out of sight, in the foli- age of its mulberry groves. The town is built along the northern side of a peninsula, which projects about two miles from the main line of the coast, forming a road for vessels. In half an hour after our arrival, several large boats came along- side, and we were told to get our baggage in order and embark for Quarantine. The time uecessa,ry to purify a tra- veller arriving from Egypt from suspicion of the plague, is five dniys, but the days of arrival and departure are counted, so that the durance amounts to but three full days. The captain of the Osiris mustered the passengers together, and informed them that each one would be obliged to pay six piastres for the transportation of himself and his baggage Two heavy lighters are now drawn up to the foot of the gangway, but as soon as th6 first box tumbles into them, the men tumble out. They attach the craft by cables to two smaller boats, iu which they sit, to tow the infected loads. We are all sent down together, Jews, Turks, and Christians — a confused pile of men, women, children, and goods. A little boat from LANDING AT QUARANTINE. 19 the city, in which there are representatives from the two hotels, hovers around ns, and cards are thrown to us. The zealous agents wish to supply us immediately with tablbs, beds, and all other household appliances; but we decline their help imtil we arrive at the mysterious spot. At last we float off — two lighters full of infected, though respectable, material, towed by oarsmen of most scurvy appearance, but free from every suspicion of taint. The sea is still rough, the sun is hot, and a fat Jewess becomes searsick. An Italian Jew rails at the boatmen ahead, in the Neapolitan patois, for the distance is long, the Quaran- tine being on the land- side of Beyrout. We see the rows of little yellow houses on the cliff, and with great apparent risk - of being swept upon- the breakers, are tugged into a stoall cove, where there is a landing-place. Nobody is there to receive us; - the boatmen juKip into the water and push the Ifghters against the stone stairs, while we unload our own baggage. A tin cup filled with searwater is placed before us, and we each drop six piastres into it — for money, strange as it may seem, is infec* tious. By this time, the guardianos have had notice of our aiTival, and we go up with them to choose our habitations There are several rows of one-story houses overlooking the sea, each containing two empty rooms, to be had for a hundred piastres; but a square- two-story dwelling stands apart from them, and the whole of it may be had for thrice that sum. There are seven Frank prisonerfe, and we take it for ourselvea But the rooms are bare, the kitchen empty, and we learn Ilia iniportant fact, that Quarantine is durance vile, without even the bread and water. The guardiano says the agents ot the hotel are at the gate, and we can order from them whatevef 20 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEN. 'Ad want. Certainly; but at their own price, for we are wholly at their mercy. However, we go down stairs, and the chief officer, who accompanies us, gets into a corner as we pass, and holds a stick before him to keep us off. He is now clean, but if his garments brush against ours, he is lost. The people we meet in the grounds step aside with great respect to let us pass, but if we offer them our hands, no one would dare to touch a finger's tip. Here is the gate : a double screen of wire, with an interval between, so that contact is impossible. There is a crowd of individuals outside, aU anxious to execute commissions. Among them is the agent of the hotel, who proposes to fill our bare rooms with furniture, send us a servant and cook, and charge us the same as if we lodged with him. The bargain is closed at once, and he hurries off to make the arrangements. It is now four o'clock, and the bracing air of the headland gives a terrible appetite to those of us who, Ukc me, have been sea- sick and fasting for forty-eight hours. But there is no food within the Quarantine except a patch of green wheat, and a well in the limestone rock. We two Americans join company with our room-mate, an Alexandrian of Italian parentage, who Las come to Beyrout to be married, and make the tour of our territory. There is a path along the cliffs overhanging the sea, with glorious views of Lebanon, up to his snowy top, the pine- forests at his base, and the long cape whereon the city lies at full length, reposing beside the waves. The Mahommedans and Jews, in companies of ten (to save expense), are lodged in the smaller dwellings, where they have already aroused mil- lions of fleas from their state of torpid expectancy. Wa r^rturn, and take a survey of our companions in the pavilion : ti FAMINE AND FEASTING. Si Fwnch woman, with two ugly and peevish children ^one at the breast), in the next room, and three French gentlemen in the other — a merchant, a young man with hair of extraordinary length, and a filatewr, or silk-manufacturer, middle-aged and cynical. The first is a gentleman in every sense of the word, the latter endurable, but the young Absalom is my aversion. I am subject to involuntary likings and dislikings, for which I can give no reason, and though the man may be in every way amiable, his presence is very distasteful to me. We take a pipe of consolation, but it only whets our appe- tites. We give up our promenade, for exercise is still worse ; and at last the sun goes down, and yet no sign of dinner. Our pavilion becomes a Tower of Famine, and the Italian recites Dante. Finally a strange face appears at the door. By Api- cius 1 it is a servant from the hotel, with iron bedsteads, camp- tables, and some large chests, which breathe an odor of the Commissary Department. We go stealthily down to the kitchen, and watch the unpacking. Our dinner is there, sure enough, but alas 1 it is not yet cooked. Patience is no more * my companion manages to filch a raw onion and a crust ol bread, which we share, and roll under our tongues as a sweet morsel, and it gives us strength for another hour. The Greek dragoman and cook, who are sent into Quarantine for our sakes, take compassion on us ; the fires are kindled in the cold furnaces ; savory steams creep up the stairs ; the preparations increase, and finally climax in the rapturous announcement : " Messieurs, dinner is ready." The soup is liquified bliss ; the i^tzlettes d'agneav, are cotelettes de bonheur ; and as for that broad dish of Syrian larks — Heaven forgive us the regret, that more gongs had not been silenced for our sake I The meal is al' 22 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. nectar a;w] ambrosia, and now, filled and contented, we subsid|a into sleep on comfortable couches. So closes the first day of our incarceration. This morning dawned clear and beautiful. Lebanon, except his snowy crest, was wrapped in the early shadows, but the Mediterranean gleamed like a shield of sapphire, and Beyrout, sculptured against the background of its mulberry groves, was glorified beyond all other cities. The turf around our pavilion fairly blazed with the splendor of the yellow daisies and crim- son poppies that stud it. I was satisfied with what I saw, and felt no wish to leave Quarantine to-day. Our Italian friend, however, is more impatient. His betrothed came early to see him, and we were edified by the great alacrity with which he hastened to the grate, to renew his vows at two yards' distance from her. In the meantime, I went down to the Turkish houses, to cultivate the acquaintance of a singular character I met on board the steamer. He is a negro of six feet four, dressed in a long scarlet robe. His name is Mahommed Senoosee, and he is a fakeer, or holy man, from Timbuctoo. He has beaten two years absent from home, on a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, and is now on his way to Jerusalem and Damascus. He has travelled extensively in all parts of Cen- tral Africa, from Dar-Fur to Ashantee, and professes to be on good terms with the Sultans of Honssa and Bornou. He has even been in the great kingdom of Waday, which has never been explored by Europeans, and as far south as lola, the capi- tal of Adamowa. Of the correctness of his narrations I have not the least doubt, as they correspond geographically with all that we know of the interior of Africa. In answer to my question whether a European might safely make the same tour, SUNDAY IN QUARANTINE. 2S lis replied that there would be no difficulty, provided ne wiia accompanied by a native, and Ije offered to take me even to Timbuctoo, if I would return with him. He was very curious to obtain information about America, and made notes of alj that I told him,; in the quaint character used by the Mughreb- bins, or Arabs of the West, which has considerable resem- blance to the ancient Cufic. He wishes to join company with me for the journey to Jerusalem, and perhaps I shall accept him. Simday, April IS. ^ As Quarantine is a sort of limbo, without the pale of civi- lized society, we have no church service to-day. We have done the best we could, however, in sending one of the outside dragomen to purchase a Bible, in which we succeeded. He brought us a very handsome copy, printed by the American Bible Society in New York. I tried vainly in Cairo and Alex- andria to find a missionary who would supply my heathenish destitution of the Sacred Writings;, for I had reached the East through Austria, where they are prohibited, and to travel through Palestine without them, would be like sailjng without pilot or compass. It gives a most impressive reality to Solo- mon's " house of the forest of Lebanon," when you can look up from the page to those veryforests and those grand mountains^ " expellent with the cedars." Seeing the holy man of Timbuc- too praying with his face towards Mecca, I went down to him, anri vire conversed for a long time on religious matters. He is tolerably well infprtjjed, haying read the Books of Moses and the Psalms of David, but, like all Mahommedans, his ideas of reliwibp consist mainly of forins, , and. its reward is a sensual paradise. , The more intelligent of the Moslems give a spiritual 84 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEN. interpretation to the nature of the Heaven promised by the Prophet, and I have heard several openly confess their disbe- lief in the seventy houries and the palaces of pearl and emerald Shekh Mahommed Senoosee scarcely ever utters a sentence in which is not the word "Allah," and "La illah iP Allah" is repeated at least every five minutes. Those of his class consi- der that there is a peculiar merit in the repetition of the names and attributes of God. They utterly reject the doctrine of the Trinity, which they believe implies a sort of partnership, or God-firm (to use their own words), and declare that all who accept it are hopelessly damned. To deny Mahomet's prophet- ship would excile a violent antagonism, and I content myself with making them acknowledge tbat God is greater than all Prophets or Apostles, and that there is but one God for all the human race. I have never yet encountered that bitter spirit of bigotry which is so frequently ascribed to them; but on the contrary, fully as great a tolerance as they would find exhibited towards them by most of the Christian sects. This morning a paper was sent to us, on which we werp requested to write our names, ages, professions, and places of nativity. "We conjectured that we were subjected to the sus- picion of political as well as physical taint, but happily this was not the case. I registered myself as a voyagmr, the French as iiegocians, and when it came to the woman's turn, Absalom, who is a partisan of female progress, wished to give her the same profession as her husband — a machinist. But she declared that her only profession was that of a " married woman," and she was so inscribed. Her peevish boy rejoiced in the title of " pUnmcheur," or "weeper," and the infant as " titeuse," or " sucker." While this was going on, the guardi- TRCMPETS. 26 ano of our room came in very mysteriously, and beckoned to fiay companion, saying that " Mademoiselle was at the gate." But it was the Italian who was wanted, and again, from the little window of our pavilion, we watched his hurried progress over the lawn. No sooner had she departed, than he took his pocket telescope, slowly sweeping the. circuit of the bay as she drew nearer and nearer Beyrout. He has succeeded in distinguish- ing, among the mass of buildings, the top of the house in which she lives, but alasl it is one story too low, and his patient espial has only been rewarded by the sight Of' some cats promenading on the roof. I have succeeded in obtaining some further particulars in relation to Quarantine. On the night of our arrival, as we were about getting into our beds, a sudden and horrible gush of brimstone vapor came up stairs, and we all fell to coughing like patients in a pulmonary hospital. The odor increased till we were obliged to open the windows and sit beside them in- order to breathe comfortably. This was the preparatory fumi- gation, in order to remove the ranker seeds of plague, after- which the milder symptoms will of themselves vanish in the. pure air of the place. Several times a 'day we are stunned and overwhelmed with the cracked brays of three discordant trumpets, as grating and doleful as the last gasps of a dying donkey. At first I supposed the object of this was to give a greater agitation to the air, and separate and shake down the noxious exhalations we emit ; bat since I was informed that the soldiers outside would shoot ns in case we attempted to escape, 1 have concluded that the sound is meant to alarm ns, and pre- rent our approaching too near the walls. On inquiring of our gaardiano whether the wheat growing within the grounds waa a 86 the" lands of the saracen. sabject to Quarantine, he informed me that it did not ccovey infection, and that three old geese, who walked out past the gviard with impunity, were free to go a,nd come, as they had' never been known to have the plague. Yesterday evening the medical attendant, a Polish phytician, came in to inspect us, but he made a very hasty review, looking down on us fifom the top of a high horse. Monday, Jprll Id. Eureka ! the whole thing is explained. Talking to day with the guardiano, he happened to mention that he had been three years in Quarantine, keeping watch over infected travellers. "What I" said I, "you have been sick three years." "Oh no," he replied ; " I have never been sick at all." " But are not people sick in Quarantine ?" " Stafferillah .'" he exclaimed ; ' they are always in better health than the people outside." " What is Quarantine for, then ?" I persisted. " What is it for ?" he repeated, with a pause of blank amazement at my ignorance,. " why, to get money from the travellers 1" Indiscreet guar- diano ! It were better to suppose ourselves under suspicion of the plague, than to have such an explanation of the mystery. Yet, in spite of the unpalatable knowledge, I almost regret that this is our last day in the establishment. The air is so pure and bracing, the views from our windows so magnificent, the colonized branch of the Beyrout Hotel so comfortable, that I am content to enjoy this pleasant idleness — the more pleasant since, being involuntary, it is no weight on the con- science. I look up to the Maronitc villages, perched on the slopes of Lebanon, with scarce a wish to climb to them, or Inming to the sparkling Mediterranean, view ORIENTAL EXAGGEEATION. 21 "The speroaaia's sail of saowy hue Whitening and brightenmg oa that field of blue," and have none of that unrest which the sight of a vessel in motion suggests. To-day my friend from Timbuctoo came up to have another talk. He was curious to know the object of my travels, and as he would not have comprehended the exact truth, I was obliged to convey it to him through the medium of fiction. I informed him that I had been dispatched by the Sultan of my country to obtain information of the countries of Africa; that I wrote in a book accounts of everything I saw, and on my return, would present this book to the Sultan, who would re- ward me with a high rank — perhaps even that of Grand Vizier. The Orientals deal largely in hyperbole, and scatter numbers and values with the most reckless profusion. The Arabic, like the Hebrew, its sister tongue, and other old original tongues of Man, is a language of roots, and abounds with the boldest metaphors. Now, exaggeration is but the imperfect form of metaphor. The expression is always a splendid amplification of- the simple fact. Like skilful archers, in order to hit the mark, they aim above it. When you have once learned his standard' of truth, you can readily gauge an Arab's expressions, and regulate your own accordingly. But whenever I have attempted to strike the key-note myself, I generally found that it waa below, rather than above, the Oriental pitch. The Shekh had already informed me that the King of Ashan- tee, whom he had visited, possessed twenty-four houses full of gold, and that the Sultan of Honssa had seventy thousand Vorses always standing saddled before his palace, in order that be might take his choice, when he wished to ride out. By this 28 THE LANDS OF THE SARiCEN. he did not mean that the facts were precisely so, but dnly that the King was Very rich, and the Sultan bad a great many horses. In order to give the Shekh an idea of the great wealth, and power of the American Nation, I was obliged to adopt the same p"an. I told him, therefore, that our country was two years' journey in extent, that the Treasury consisted of four thousand houses tiled to the roof with gold, and that two hun- dred thousand soldiers on horseback kept continual guard around Sultan Fillmore's palace. He received these tremendous statements with the utmost serenity and satisfaction, carefully, writing them ia his book, together with the name of Sultan Fillmore, whose fame has ere this reached the remote regions; of Timbuctoo The Shekh, moreover, had the desire of visiting England, 'and wished me to give him a letter to the English Sultan. This rather exceeded my powers, bnt I wrote a simple: certificate explaining who he was, and whence he came, which I sealed with an immense display of wax, and gave him. Ii . return, he wrote his name in my book, in the Mughrebbin char- acter, adding the sentence : " There is no God but God." This evening the forbidden subject of politics crept into our quiet community, and the result was an explosive contention which drowned even the braying of the agonizing trumpets out- side. The gentlemanly Frenchman is a sensible and consistent republican, the old filaUiir a violent monarchist, while Absa- lom, as I might have foreseen, is a Red, of the schools of Proud- hoti and Considerant. The first predicted a Republic :iu France, the second a Monarchy in America, and the last was in favor of a general and total demolition of all existing sya terns. Of course, with such elements, anything like a serious discussion was impossible ; and, as in most French debates, M 9BAG0MEN iil «uded in a bewildering confusion of cries and gesticulations. In the midst of it, I was struck by the cordiality with which the Monarchist and the Socialist united in their denunciationg of England and the English laws. As they sat side by side, pouring out anathemas against "perfide Albion," I could not help exclaiming: " Voi^d, comme les extremes se rencontreiU !" This turned the whole current of their wrath against me, and I was glad to make a hasty retreat. The physician again visited us to-night, to promise a release to-morrow morning. He looked us all in the faces, to be cer- tain that there were no signs of pestilence, and politely regret- ted that he could not offer us his hand. The husband of the " married woman'' also came, and relieved the other gentlemen from the charge of the " weeper." He was a stout, ruddy Provencal, in a white blouse, and I commiserated him sincerely for having such a disagreeable wife. To-day, being the last of our imprisonment, we have received many tokens of attention from dragomen, who have sent their papers through the grate to us, to be returned to-morrow after onr liberation. They are not very prepossessing specimens of their class, with the exception of Yusef Badra, who brings a recommendation from my friend, Ross Browne. Yusef is a .handsome, dashing fellow, with something of the dandy in his dress and air, but he has a fine, clear, sparkling eye, with just enough of the devil in It to make him attractive. I think, how- ever, that the Greek dragoman, who has been our companion in Quarantine, wDl carry the day. He is by birth a Boeotian, .but now a citizen of Athens, and calls himself Frangois Vitalis He speaks French, German, and Italian, besides Arabic and Turkish, and as he has been for twelve or fifteen years vibrat so THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. ing between Europe and the East, he must by this time havr amassed sufficient experience to answer the needs of rough-and- tumble travellers like ourselves. He has not asked us for the place, which displays so much penetration on his part, that we shall end by offering it to him. Perhaps he is content to rest his claims upon the memory of our first Quarantine dinner. If so, the odors of the cutlets and larks — even of the raw oni6n, which we remember with tears — shall not plead his cause in vain. Bftrout (out of Quarantine), Wedjiesday^ Afay 21. The handsome Greek, Diamanti, one of the proprietors of the " Hotel de Belle Vue," was on hand bright and early yes- terday morning, to welcome us out of Quarantine. The gates were thrown wide, and forth we issued between two files of soldiers, rejoicing in our purification. "We walked through mul- berry orchards to the town, and through its steep and crooked streets to the hotel, which stands beyond, near the extremity of the Cape, or Ras Beyrout. The town is small, but has an active population, and a larger commerce than any other port in Syria. The anchorage, however, is an open road, and in stormy weather it is impossible for a boat to land. There are two picturesque old castles on some rocks near the shore, but they were almost destroyed by the English bombardment iu 1841. I noticed two or three granite columns, now used as the lintels of some of the arched ways in the streets, and other fragments of old masonry, the only remains of the ancien Berytns. Our time, since our release, has been occupied by prepara- tions for the jonrney to Jerusalem. We have taken Frangois as dragoman, and our mukkairee, or muleteers, are engaged to PBEPARATIONS FOR DEPARTORK. 31 be in readiness to-morrow morning. I learn that the Uruses are in revolt in Djebel Hauaran and parts of the Anti-Lebanon, wliich will prevent my forming any settled plan for the tour through Palestine and Syria. Up to this time, the country has been considered quite safe, the only robbery this winter having been that of the party of Mr. Degen, of New York, which was plundered near Tiberias. Dr. Robinson left here two weeks ago for Jerusalem, in company with Dr. Eli Smith, of the American MiHSion at this place. 3 J t HE LANIIS 0¥ TBB SAK4CEH. DH APTER II. Ta» <;oAST or rALEariXK. Oip Pilgrimage Comnien««4 — The Maletecra — The Mules — The Dinkey— Journey to Sidon — The Foot of LebatraH — PictDres — The Rnina of Tjre — A Wild Morning— Ihe Tyrian Surges — Climbing ^ e Ladder of Tyre — Panorama of the Bay of Acre — The Plain of Esdraelon — Gamp . v * Garden — Acre — the Shore of the Bay — Haifa — Mount Carmel and ttg Monastery — < Ireserted Coast — The Knins of Caesarea — The Scenery of Palestine — We become Rc>--t ^rs — El Haram — Wrecks — the Harbor and Town oi Jaffa. ** Along the line of foam, the jevelled chain, The largessfc of the ever-giving main." R. H. SroDDiKO. Rahlih, April 27, 1352. We left Beyrout on the morning of the 22d, Our caravan consisted of three horses, three males, and a donkey, in charge of two men — Dervish, an erect, black-bearded, and most impassive Mussulman, and Mustapha, who is the very picture of patience and good-nature. He was born with a smile on his face, and has never been able to change the expression. They are both masters of their art, and can load a mnle with a speed and skill which I would defy any Santa Pe trader to excel. The animals are not less interesting than their masters. Our horses, to be sure, are slow, plodding beasts, with consi- derable endurance, but little spirit ; but the two baggage mules deserve gold medals from the Society for the Promotion THE MULES. 33 M iDdustry. I can overlook any amount of waywarrtnesg in the creatures, in consideration of the steady, persevering energy, the cheerfulness and even enthusiasm with which they perform their duties. They seem to be conscious that they art doing well, and to take a delight in the consciousness. Out of them has a band of white shells around his neck, fastened with a tassel and two large blue beads ; and yon ueed but look at hira to see that he is aware how becoming it is. He tliinka it was given to him for good conduct, and is doing his best to merit another. The little donkey is a still more original animal. He is a practical humorist, full of perverse tricks, but all intended for effect, and without a particle of malice. He generally walks behind, running off to one side or the other to crop a mouthful of grass, but no sooner does Dervish attempt to mount him, than he sets off at full gallop, aud takes the lead of the caravan. After having performed one of his feats, he turns around with a droll glance at us, as much as to say : " Did you see that ?" If we had not been present, most assuredly he would never have done it.^ I can imagine him, after his return to Beyrout, relating his adventures to a company of fellow-donkeys, who every now and then burst into tremendous brays at some of his irresistible dry sayings. I persuaded Mr. Harrison to adopt the Oriental costume, which, from five months' wear in Africa, I greatly preferred to the Frank. We therefore rode out of Beyrout as a pair of Syrian Beys, while Frangois, with his belt, sabre, and pistols, had mmh the aspect of a Greek brigand. The road crosses the hill behind the city, between the Forest of Pines and a long tract of red sand-hills next the sea. It was a lovely morning, not too bright and hot, for light, fleecy vapors hung along thn 2* 34 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. sides of Iiebanon. Beyond the mulberry orchards, we entered on wild, half-cultivated tracts, covered with a bewildering maze of blossoms. The hill-side and stony shelves of soil overhang- ing the sea fairly blazed with the brilliant dots of color which W3re rained upon them. The pink, the broom, the poppy, the speedwell, the lupin, that beautiful variety of the cyclamen, called by the Syrians " dedc e-djebel " (cock o' the mountain), and a number of unknown plants dazzled the eye with their profusion, and loaded the air with fragrance as rare as it was unfailing. Here and there, clear, swift rivulets came down from Lebanon, coursing their way between thickets of bloom- ing oleanders. Just before crossing the little river Damoor, Francois pointed out, on one of the distant heights, the resi- dence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope. During the after- noon we crossed several offshoots of the Lebanon, by paths incredibly steep and stony, and towards evening reached Saida, the ancient Sidon, where we obtained permission to pitch our tent in a garden. The town is built on a narrow point of land, jutting out from the centre of a bay, or curve in the coast, and contains about five thousand inhabitants. It is a quiet, sleepy sort of a place, and contains nothing of the old Sidon except a few stones and the fragments of a mole, extending into the sea, The fortress in the water, and the Citadel, are remnants of Venitian sway. The clouds gathered after nightfall, and occasionally there was a dash of rain on our tent. But I heard it with the same quiet happiness, as when, in boyhood, sleep- ing beneatl the rafters, I have heard the rain beating all night upon the roof. I breathed the sweet breath of the grasses whereon my carptt was spread, and old Mother Earth, wel- ooming me back to hor bosom, cradled me into (salm and THE FOOT OF LEBANON 3ij refreshiog sleep. There is no rest more grateful than that which we take on the turf or the sand, except the rest below it. We rose in a dark and cloudy morning, and continued oui way between fields of barley, completely stained with the bloody hue of the poppy, and meadows turned into golden mosaic by a brilliant yellow daisy. Until noon our road was over a region of alternate meadow land and gentle though stony elevations, making out from Lebanon. We met continually with indications of ancient power and prosperity. Tlie ground was strewn with hewn blocks, and the foundations of buildings remain in many places. Broken sarcophagi lie half-buried in grass, and the gray rocks of the hills are pierced with tombs. The soil, though stony, appeared to -be naturallv fertile, and the crops of wheat, barley, and lentils were vei/ flourishing. After rounding the promontory which forms the southern boun- dary of the Gulf of Sidon, we rode for an hour or two over a plain near the sea, and then came down to a valley which ran up among the hills, terminating in a natural amphitheatre. An ancient barrow, or tumulus, nobody knows of whom, stands near the sea. During the day I noticed two charming little pictures. One, a fountain gushing into a broad square basin of masonry, shaded by three branching cypresses. Two Turks sat on its edge, eating their bread and curdled milk, while their horses drank out of the stone trough below. The other, an old Mahommedan, with a green turban and white robe, seated at the foot of a majestic sycamore, over the high bank 3f a stream that tumbled down its bed of white marble rock to the sea. The plain back of the narrow, sandy promontory on which 36 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEK. the modern Soor is built, is a rich black loam, wbich a little proper culture would turn into a very garden. It helped me to account for the wealth of ancient Tyre. The approach to the town, along a beach on which the surf broke with a con- tinuous roar, with the wreck of a Greek vessel in thu fore- ground, and a stormy sky behind, was very striking. It wag a wildj bleak picture, the white mjnarets of the town standing out spectrally against the clouds. We rode jip the sand-hills, back of the town, and selected a good ?amping-place among the ruins of Tyre. Near us there was an ancient square build- ing, now used as a cistern, and filled with excellent fresh water. The surf roared tremendously on the rocks, on either hand, and the boom of the more distant breakers came to my ear like the wind in a pine forest. The remains of the ancient sea- wall are still to be traced for the entire circuit of the city, and the heavy surf breaks upon piles of shattered granite columns. Along a sort of mole, protecting an inner harbor on the north side, are great numbers of these columns. I counted fifteen in one group, some of them fine red granite, and some of the marble of Lebanon. The remains of the pharos and the for- tresses strengthening the sea-wall, were pointed out by the Syrian who accompanied us as a guide, but his faith was a little stronger than mine. He even showed us the ruins of the jetty built by Alexander, by means of which the ancient cityj then insulated by the sea, was taken. The remains of the cause- way gradually formed the promontorj by which the place is now connected with the main land. These are the principal mdicationS of Tyre above ground, but the guide informed ua that the Arabs, in digging among the sand-hills for tha stones fflf the old buildings, which they quarry out and sbipto Bfy^ THE T7BIAN SURGES. S.t p.rat, como upon chainberai pillars^ arches, and other objects. The Tyrian purple t still furnished by a muscle found upon the coast, but Tyre is now only noted for its tobacco and mill- stones. ■ I saw many of the latter lying in the streets of the town, and an Arab was selling a quantity at auction in the square, as we passed. They are cut out from a species of dark Tolcanic rock, by the Bedouins of the mountains. There were naif a dozen small coasting vessels lying in the rOad, but the old harbors are entirely destroyed. Isaiah's prophecy is liter ally fulfilled : " Howl, ye ships of Tarshish ; for it is laid waste, so that there is no house, no entering in." On returning from our ramble we passed the house of the Gorernor, Daood Agha, who was dispensing justice in regard to a lawsuit then before him. He asked us to stop and take coffee, and received us with much grace and dignity. As we rose to leave, a slave brought me a large bunch of choice flOwera from his garden. We set out from Tyre at an early hour, and rode along tht beach around the head of the bay to the Ras-el-Abiad, tbs ancient Promontorium Album. The morning was wild and cloudy, with gleams of sunshine that flashed out over the dark violet gloom of the sea. The surf was magnificent, rolling up iu grand billows, which broke and formed again, till the last of the long, falling fringes of snow slid seething up the sand, Something of ancient power was in their shock and roar, and every great wave that plunged and drew back again, called iu its solemn bass ; " Where are the ships of Tyre ? where are the ships of Tyre?" I looked back on the city, which stoo(J advanced far into the sea, her feet bathed in thunderous spray. By and by the clovds deared away, the sun came out bold and S8 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. bright, aud our road left the beach for a meadowy plain, crossed by fresh streams, and sown with an inexhaustible wealth of flowers. Through thickets of myrtle and mastic, around which the rue and lavender grew in dense clusters, we reached the foot of the mountain, and began ascending the celebrated Ladder of Tyre. The road is so steep as to resemble a stai^ ease, and climbs along the side of the promontory, liangiog over precipices of naked white rock, in some places three hun- dred feet in height. The mountain is a mass of magnesian limestone, with occasional beds of marble. The surf has worn its foot into hollow caverns, into which the sea rushes with a dull, heavy boom, like distant thunder. The sides are covered with thickets of broom, myrtle, arbutus, ilex, mastic and laurel, overgrown with woodbine, and interspersed with patches of sage, lavender, hyssop, wild thyme, and rue. The whole moun- tain is a heap of balm ; a bundle of sweet spices. Our horses' hoofs clattered up and down the rounds of the ladder, and we looked our last on Tyre, fading away behind the white hem of the breakers, as we turned the point of the promontory. Another cove of the mountain-coast followed, terminated by the Cape of Nakhura, the northern point of the Bay of Acre. We rode along a stony way between fields of wheat and barley, blotted almost out of sight by showers of scarlet poppies and yellow chrysanthemums. There were fre- quent ruins : fragments of sarcophagi, foundations of houses, and about half way between the two capes, the mounds of Alexandro-Schoenae. We stopped at a khan, and breakfasted nsder a magnificent olive tree, while two boys tended our jorses to see that they ate only the edges of the wheat field. 'Below the house were two large cypresses, and on a littk PANORAMA or THE BAY OF ACRE. 39 longiie of land the ruins of one of those square towers of Ihe corsairs, which line all this coast. The intense blue of the sea, seen close at hand over a broad field of goldening wheat, formed a dazzling and superb contrast of color. Early in the afternoon we climbed the Ras Nakhura, not so bold and grand, though quite as flowery a steep as the Promontorium Album. We had been jogging half an hour over its uneven summit, when the side suddenly fell away below us, and we saw the whole of the great gulf and plain of Acre, backed by the long ridge of Mount Carmel. Behind the sea, which makes a deep indentation in the line of the coast, extended the plain; bounded on the east, at two leagues' distance, by a range of hills covered with luxuriant olive groves, and still higher, by the distant mountains of Galilee. The fortifications of Acre were visible on a slight promontory near the middle of the Gulf From our feet the line of foamy surf extended for miles along the red sand-beach, till it finally became like a chalk-mark on the edge of the field of blue. We rode down the mountain and continued our journey over the plain of Esdraelon — a picture of summer luxuriance and bloom. The waves of wheat and barley rolled away from our path to the distant olive orchards ; here the water gushed from a stone fountain and flowed into a turf-girdled pool, around which the Syrian women were washing their garments ; there, a garden of orange, lemon, fig, and pomegranate tree? in blossom, was a spring of sweet odors, which overflowed the whole land. We rode into some of these forests, for they were no less, and finally pitched our tent in one of them, belonging to the palace of the former Abdallah Pasha, within a mile of ^cre. The old Saracen aqueduct, which still conveys water to 40 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. the town, overhung our tent. For an hour before reaching oui destination, we had seen it on the left, crossing the hollows on light stone arches. In one place I counted fifty-eight, and in another one hundred and three of these ai ches, some of which were fifty feet high. Our camp was a charming place : a nest of deep herbage, under two enormous fig-trees, and surrounded by a balmy grove of orange and citron. It was doubly beau- tiful when the long line of the aqueduct was lit up by the moon, and the orange trees became mounds of ambrosial darkness. In the morning we rode to Acre, the fortifications of which have been restored on the land-side. A ponderous double gate Way of stone admitted us into the city, through what was once, apparently, the court-yard of a fortress. The streets of the town are narrow, terribly rough, and very dirty, but the bazaars are extensive and well stocked. The principal mosque, whose heavy dome is visible at some distance from the city, is surrounded with a garden, enclosed by a pillared corridor^ paved with marble. All the houses of the city are built in the most massivfe style, of hard gray limestone or marble, and this circumstance alone prevented their complete destruction during the English bombardment in 1841. The marks of the shells are everywhere seen, and the upper parts of the lofty buildings are completely riddled with cannon-balls, some of which remain embedded in the stone. We made a rapid tour of the town on horseback, followed by the curious glances of the people, who were in doubt whether to consider us Turks or Franks. There were a dozen vessels in the harbor, .which is considered the best in Syria. The baggage-mules had gone on, so we galloped after them ilong the hard beach, around the head of the bay. It was i HAIFA AND MOUNT CARMEL. H brilliant mdruing ; a delicious south-eastern breeze came to u» OTer the flowery plain of Esdraelon ; the sea on our right shone blue, and purple, and violet-green, and black, as the shadows or sunshine crossed it, and only the long lines of roaring foam, for ever changing in form, did not vary in hue A fisherman stood on the beac*» in a statuesque attitude, his handsome bare legs bathed in the frothy swells, a bag of fish hanging from his shoulder, and the large square net, with its sinkers of lead in his right hand, ready for a cast. He had good luck, for the waves brought up plenty of large fish, and cast them at our feet, leaving them to struggle back into the treacherous brine. Between Acre and Haifa we passed six or eight wrecks, mostly of small trading vessels. Some were half buried in sand, some so old and mossy that they were fast rotting away, while a few had been recently hurled there. As we roijnded the deep curve of the bay, and approached the line of palm-trees girding the foot of Mount Carmel, Haifa, with its wall and Saracenic town in ruin on the hill above, grew more clear and bright in the sun, while Acre dipped into the blue of the Mediterranean. The town of Haifa, the ancient Caiapha, is small, dirty, and beggarly looking ; but it has some commerce, sharing the trade of Acre in the productions of Syria. It was Sunday, and ail the Consular flags were flying. It was an unexpected delight to find the American colors in this little Syrian town, flying U'om one of the tallest poles. The people stared at us as we passed, and I noticed among them many bright Frankish faces, with eyes too clear and gray for Syria. ye kind brothers of the monastery of Carmel I forgive me if I look to you for as axplahation of this phenomenon. We ascended to Mount Carmel. The path led through a 12 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. grove of carob trees, from which the beans, known in Germanj as St. John's bread, are produced. After this we came into an olive grove at the foot of the mountain, from wnich long fields of wheat, giving forth a ripe summer smell, flowed dowD to tHe shore of the bay. The olive trees were of immense size, and I can well believe, as Fra Carlo informed us, that they *ere probably planted by the Roman colonists, established there by Titus. The gnarled, veteran boles still send forth vigorous and blossoming boughs. There were all manner of lovely lights and shades chequered over the turf and the wind- ing path we rode. At last we reached the foot of an ascent, steeper than the Ladder of Tyre. As our horses slowly climbed to the Convent of St. Elijah, whence we already saw the French flag floating over the shoulder of the momitain, the view opened grandly to the north and east, revealing the bay and plain of Acre, and the coast as far as Ras Nakhura, from which we first saw Mount Carmel the day previous. The two views are very similar in character, one being the obverse of the other. We reached the Convent — Dayr Mar Elias, as the Arabs call it — at noon, just in time to partake of a bountiful dinner, to which the monks had treated themselves. Fra. Carlo, the good Fran- ciscau who receives strangers, showed us the building, and the Grotto of Elijah, which is under the altar of the Convent Church, a small but very handsome structure of Italian marble. The sanctity of the Grotto depends on tradition entirely, aa there is no mention in the Bible of Elijah havino- resided ou Carmel, though it was from this mountain that he saw the cloud, " like a man's hand," rising from the sea. The Convent, which is quite new— not yet completed, in fact — is a large^ massive building, and has the aspect of a fortress. THE RUINS OF CiESAREA. 43 As we were to sleep at Tantura, five hours distaut, we were obligod to make a short visit, in spite of the invitation of the hospitable Fra Carlo to spend the night there. In the afternoon we passed the ruins of Athlit, a town of the Middle Ages, and the Castel Pellegrino of the Crusaders. Our road now followed the beach, nearly the whole distance to Jaflfa^ and was in many places, for leagues in extent, a solid layer of white, brown, purple and rosy shells, which cracked and rattled under our horses' feet. Tantura is a poor Arab village, and we had some difficulty in procuring provisions. The people lived in small huts of mud and stones, near the sea. The place had a thievish look, and we deemed it best to be careful in the disposal of our baggage for the night. In the morning we took the coast again, riding over millions of shells. A line of sandy hills, covered with thickets of myrtle and mastic, shut off the view of the plain and meadows between the sea and the hills of Samaria. After three hours' ride we saw the ruins of ancient Caesarea, near a small pro- montory. The road turned away from the sea, and took the wild plain behind, which is completely overgrown vnth. camo- mile, chrysanthemum and wild shrubs. The ruins of the town are visible at a considerable distance along the coast. The principal remains consist of a massive wall, flanked with pyra- midal bastions at regular intervals, and with the traces of gate- ways, draw-bridges and towers. It was formerly surrounded by a deep moat. Within this space, which may be a quarter of a mile square, are a few fragments of buildings, and toward the sea, some high arches and masses of masonry. The plain around abounds with traces of houses, streets, and court-yards Caesarea was one of the Roman colonies, but owed its prosp» 44 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEU. rity principally to Herod. St Paul passed through it on his way from Macedon to Jerusalem, by the very road we wera travelling. During the day the path struck inland over a vast rollinj^ plain, covered with sage, lavender and other sweet-smelliag shrubs, and tenanted by herds of gazelles and flocks of large storks. As we advanced farther, the landscape became singu- larly beautiful. It was a broad, shallow valley, swelling away towards the east into low, rolling hills, far back of which rose the blue line of the mountains — the hill-country of Judea. The soil, where it was ploughed, was the richest vegetable loam. Where it lay fallow it was entirely hidden by a bed of grass and camomile. Here and there great herds of sheep and goats browsed on the herbage. There was a quiet pastoral air about the landscape, a soft serenity in its forms and colors, as if the Hebrew patriarchs still made it their abode. The district is famous for robbers, and we kept our arms in readiness, never suffering the baggage to be out of our sight. Towards evening, as Mr. H. and myself, with Frangois, were riding in advance of the baggage mules, the former with his gun In his hand, I with a pair of pistols thrust through the folds of my shawl, and Frangois with his long Turkish sabre, we came suddenly upon a lonely Englishman, whose com- panions were somewhere in the rear. He appeared to be struck with terror on seeing us making towards him, and, turning his horse's head, made an attempt to fly. The animal, aowever, was restive, and, after a few plunges, refused to move. Tiie traveller gave himself up for lost ; his arms dropped by his side ; he stared wildly at us, with pale face and eyes opened wide with a look of helpless fright. Restrain' BL HARAM. 4-5 Sng with difBcul'y a SDOut of laughter, I said to him ; "Bid you leave Jaffa to-day ?" but so completely was his ear the fool cf his imagination, that he thought I was speaking Arabic, and made a faint attempt to get out the only word or two of that language which he knew. I then repeated, with as much distinctness as I could command : "Did — ^you^ — leave — Jaffa— ^to-day ?" He stammered mechanically, thi-ough his chattering teeth, " Y-y-yes 1" and we immediately dashed off at a gallop through the bushes. When we last saw him, he was standing as we left him, apparently nOt yef recovered from the shock. At the little village of E! Haram, where we spent the bight, I visited the tomb of Sultan Ali ebn-Aleym. who is now revered as a saint. It is enclosed in a mosque, crowning the top of a hill. ' I was admitted into the court-yard without hesitation, though, from the porter styling me '' Effendi," he probably took me for a Turk. At the entrance to the inner court, I took off my slippers and walked to the tomb of the Sultan — a square heap of white marble, in a small marble enclosure. In one of the niches in the Wall, near the tomb, there is a very old iron box, with a slit in the top. The por ter informed me that it contained a charm, belonging to Sul tan Ali, which was of great use in producing rain in times of drouth. In the morning we sent our baggage by a short road across the country to this place, and then rode down the beach towards Jaffa. The sun came out bright and hot as we paced along the line of spray, our horses' feet sinking above the fet- locks in pink and purple shells, while the drol' sea-crabs scam- piered away from our path, and the blue gelatinous sea-uettles ib THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. were tossed before us by the surge. Our view was confiucd ti the saiidrhills — sometimes covered with a flood of scarlet pop- pies — on one hand; and to the blue, surf-fringed sea on tha x)ther. The terrible coast was still lined with wrecks, and just before reaching the town, we passed a vessel of some two hundred tons, recently cast ashore, with her strong hull still unbroken. We forded the rapid stream of El Anjeh, which comes down from the Plain of Sharon, the water rising to our saddles. The low promontory in front now broke into towers and white domes, and great masses of heavy walls. The aspect of Jaffa is exceedingly picturesque. It is built on a hill, and the land for many miles around it being low and flat, its topmost houses overlook all the fields of Sharon. The old harbor, protected by a reef of rocks, is on the north side of the town, but is now so sanded up that large vessels cannot eiiter. A number of small craft were lying close to the shore. The port presented a different scene when the ships of Hirara, King 01 Tyre, came in with the materials for the Temple of Solomon. There is but one gate on the land side, which is rather strongly fortified. Outside of this there is an open space, whic'u we found filled with venders of oranges and vege- tables, camel-men and the like, some vociferating in. loud dis^ pute, some given up to silence and smoke, under the shade of the sycamores. We rode under the heavily arched and towered gateway, and entered the bazaar. The street was crowded, and there (v-as such a confusion of camels, donkeys, and men, that we made our way with difficulty along the only practicable street in the city, to the sea-side, where Francois pointed out a hole in the wall as the veritable spot where Jonah was cas', 3ATTA. 47^ ashore by the whale. This part of the harbor is the recej>- tacle of all the offal of the town ; and I do not wonder that the whale's stomach should have turned on approaching it. The sea-street was filled with merchants and traders, and we were obliged to pick our way between bars of iron, skins of oil, heaps of oranges, and piles of. building timber. At last we reached the end, and, as there was no other thoroughfare, returned the same way we went, passed out the gate, and took the road to Ramleh and Jerusalem. But 1 hear the voice of Frangois, announcing, " Messieurs, It diner est prel." We are encamped just beside the pool of Ramleh, and the mongrel children of the town are making a great noise in the meadow below it. Our horses are enjoy- ing their barley ; and Mustapha stands at the tent-door tying up his sacks. Dogs are barking and donkeys braying all along the borders of the town, whose filth and dilapidation are happily concealed by the fig and olive gardens which sur- round it. I have not curiosity enough to visit the Greek and Latin Convents embedded in its foul purlieus, but content myself with gazing from my door upon the blue hills of Palestine, which we must cross to-morrow, on our way to Jerusalem. t8, rHB LANDS OF THE SAKAOBN. CHAPTER III. FROM JAFFA TO JERUSALEM. rhe Garden of Jaffa — Breakfast at a, Fountain — The Plain of Sharon— The Rolnad Hcsque of Ratnleh — A Judean Landscape— The Streets of Kamleh — Am 1 in Palefl* tine? — A Heavenly Morning — The Land of Milk and Honey — Entering the Hill- Country— The Pilgrim's Breakfast— The Father of Lies— A Church of the Crusajen —The Agriculture of the Uills^The Valley of Elah— Day-Dreams- The Wilderneu —The Approach— We-see the Holy City. " Through the air sublime, Over the wilderness and o'er the plain ; Till underneath them 'air Jerusalem, The Holy City, hfted high her towers." Pabadise RiiaAniia). JsRHSALBM, Thursday, April 29, 186S. Leavikg the gate of Jaffa, we rode eastward betweeo delight- ful gardens of fig, citron, orange, pomegranate and palm. The country for several miles around the city is a complete level — part of the great plain of Sharon — and the gray mass Ot building crowning the little promontory, is the only landmark seen above the green garden-land, on looking towards the sea The road was lined with hedges of giant cactus, now in blos- som, and shaded occasionally with broad-armed sycamores The orange trees were in bloom, and at the same time laden lowu with ripe fruit. The oranges of Jaffa are the finest iu iyria, and great numbers of them are sent to Beyrout aud THK PLAIN OF SHARON. 49 Other ports further north. The dark fcliage of the pome- granate fairly blazed with its heavy scarlet blossoms, and hero and there a cluster of roses made good the Scriptural renown of those of Sharon. The road was filled with people, passing 10 and fro, and several families of Jaffa Jews were having a sort of pic-nic in tlie choice shady spots. Ere long we came to a fountain, at a point where two road met. It was a large square structure of limestone and marble, with a stone trough in front, and a delightful open chamber at the side. The space in front was shaded with immense syca- more trees, to which we tied our horses, and then took our seats iu the window above the fountain, where the Greek brought us our breakfast. The water was cool and deli( ious, as were our Jaffa oranges. It was a charming spot, for as we sat we could look under the boughs of the great trees, and down between the gardens to Jaffa and the Mediterranean. After leaving - the gardens, we came upon the great plain of Sharon, on which we could see the husbandmen at work far and near, ploughing and sowing their grain. In some instances, the two operations were made simultaneously, by having a sort of funnel attached to the plough-handle, running into a tube which entered the earth just behind the share. The man held the plough with one hand, while with the other he dropped the requisite quan- tity of seed through the tube into the furrow. The people are ploughing now for their summer crops, and the wheat and bar ley which they sowed last winter are already in full head. Ou other parts of the plain, there were large flocks of sheep and goats, with their attendant shepherds. So ran the rich land- scape, broken o:ily by belts of olive trees, to the far MBa oi Judea. 60 THE LANDS OF THE SABAUEN. Riding on over the long, low swells, fragrant with wiW thyme and camomile, we saw at last the tower of Ramleh, and down the valley, an hour's ride to the north-east, the minaret of Lndd, the ancient Lydda. Still further, I could see the houses of the village of Sharon, embowered in olives. Ramleh is built along the crest and on the eastern slope of a low, hill, aniH at a distance appears like a stately place, but this impres- sion is immediately dissipated on entering it. West of the town is a largo square tower, between eighty and ninety feet in height. We rode up to it through an orchard of ancient olive trees, ind over a field of beans. The tower is evidently a min- aret, as it is built in the purest Saracenic style, and is sui*- rounded by the ruins of a mosque. I have rarely seen any- thing more graceful than the ornamental arches of the upper portions. Over the door is a lintel of white marble, with an Arabic inscription. The mosque to which the tower is attached is almost entirely destroyed, and only part of the arches of a corridor around three sides of a court-yard, w'th the fountain in the centre, still remain. The subterranean cisterns, under the court-yard, amazed me with their extent and magnitndc. 'I'hey are no less than twenty-four feet deep, and covered by twenty-four vaulted ceilings, each twelve feet square, and res^ ing on massive pillars. The mosque, when entire, must have been one of the finest in Syria. We clambered over the broken stones cumbering the entrance, and mounted the steps to the very summit. The view reached from Jaffa and the sea to the mountains near Jerusalem, and southward to the plain of Ascalon — a great expanse of grain flud grazing land, all blossoming as the rose, and dotted, espe- cially near the mountains, with dark, luxuriant olive-giove& All I IN PALESTINE? 61 The landscape had something of the green, pastoral beauty of England, except the mountains, which were wholly of Palestine. The shadows of fleecy clouds, drifting slowly from east to west, moved across the landscape, which became every moment softo and fairer in the light of the declining sun. I did not tarry in Ramleh. The streets are narrow, crooked, and filthy as only an Oriental town can be. The houses have either flat roofs or domes, out of the crevices in which springs a plentiful crop of weeds. Some yellow dogs barked at us as we passed, childreu in tattered garments stared, and old tur- baned heads were raised from the pipe, to guess who the two brown individuals might be, and why they were attended by such a fierce cawass. Passing through the eastern gate, we were gladdened by the sight of our tents, already pitched iii the meadow beside the cistern. Dervish had arrived an hour before us, and had everything ready for the sweet lounge of an hour, to which we treat ourselves after a day's ride. I watched the evening fade away over the blue hills before us, and tried to convince myself that I should reach Jerusalem on the mor- row. Reason said : " You certainly will 1" — but to Faith the Holy City was as far off as ever. Was it possible that I was in Judea ? Was this the Holy Land of the Crusades, the soil hallowed by the feet of Christ and his Apostles ? I must believe it. Yet it seemed once that if I ever trod that earth, then beneath my feet, there would be thenceforth a consecra- tion iu my life, a holy essence, a purer inspiration on the lips, a surer faith in the heart. And because I was not other than I had been, I half doubted whether it was the Palestine of Diy dreams. A number of Arab cameleers, who had come with travellers 52 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. across tlie Desert from Egypt, were encamped near us. Fran- cois was suspicious of some of them, and tlierefore divided the niglit into three watches, which were kept by himself and our two men. Mustapha was the last, and kept not only himself, but myself, wide awake by his dolorous chants of love and reli- gion. I fell sound asleep at dawn, but was roused before sunrise by Francois, who wished to start betimes, on account of the rugged road we had to travel. The morning was mild, clear, and balmy, and we were soon packed and in motion. Leaving the baggage to follow, we rode ahead over the fertile fields. The wheat and poppies were glistening with dew, birds sang among the fig-trees, a cool breeze came down from the hollows of the hills, and my blood leaped as nimbly and joyously as a young hart on the mountains of Betber. Between Ramleh and the hill-country, a distance of about eight miles, is the rolling plain of Arimathea, and this, as well as the greater part of the plain of Sharon, is one of the richest districts in the world. The soil is a dark-brown loam, and, without manure, produces annually superb crops of wheat and barley. We rode for miles through a sea of wheat, waving far and wide over the swells of land. The tobacco in the fields about Raralch was the most luxuriant I ever saw, and the olive and fig attain a size and lusty strength wholly unknown in Italy. Judea cursed of God 1 what a misconception, not only of God's mercy and beneficence, but of the actual fact 1 Give Palestine into Christian hands, and it will again flow with milk and honey. E.Kc.ept some parts of Asia Minor, no por- tion of the Levant is capable of yielding such a harvest of vjrain, silk, wool, fruits, oil, and wine. The gi-eat disadvantagf ENTERINtt THE HILL-COUNTRY. 53 under which the country labors, is its frequent drouthSj but were the soil more generally cultivated, and the old orchards replanted, these would neither be so frequent nor so severe. We gradually ascended the hills, passing one or two Tillages, imbedded in gropes of olives. In the little valleys, slanting down to the plains, the Arabs were still ploughing and sowing, singing the while an old love-song, with its chorus of " ya, gaazake! ya, ghazalet!" (oh, gazelle ! oh, gazelle!) The valley narrowed, the lowlands behind us spread out broader, and in half an hour more we were threading a narrow pass, between stony hills, overgrown with ilex, rajtrtle, and dwarf oak. The wild purple rose of Palestine blossomed on all sides, and a fra- grant white honeysuckle in some places hung from the rocks. The path was terribly rough, and barely wide enough for two persons on horseback to pass each other. We met a few pil- grims returning from Jerusalem, and a straggling company of armed Turks, who had such a piratical air, that without the solemn asseveration of Francois that the road was quite safe, I should have felt uneasy about our baggage. Most of the persons we passed were Mussulmen, few of whom gave the customary " Peace be with you I" but once a Syrian Christian saluted me with, " God go with you, Pilgrim !" For two hours after entering the mountains, there was scarcely a sign o' cultivation. The rock was limestone, or marble, lying in horizontal strata, the broken edges of which rose like terraces to the summits. These shelves were so covered with wild shrubs — in some places even with rows of olive trees — thitt to me they had not the least appearance of that desoliv lion so generally ascribed to them. 54 THE LANDS OP THE SARACBN. lu a little dell among the hills there is a small ruined mosque, or chapel (I could not decide which), shaded by a group of magnificent terebinth trees. Several Arabs were resting in its shade, and we hoped to find there the water we were looking for, in order to make breakfast. But it was not to be found, and we climbed nearly to the summit of the first chain of hills, where in a small olive orchard, there was a cistern, filled bj the late rains. It belonged to two ragged boys, who brought US an earthen vessel of the water, and then asked, " Shall we bring you milk, Pilgrims !" I assented, and received a small jug of thick buttermilk, not remarkably clean, but very refresh- ing. My companion, who had not recovered from his horror at finding that the inhabitants of Ramleh washed themselves in tLe pool which supplied us and them, refused to touch it. We made but a short rest, for it was now nearly noon, and there were yet many rough miles between us and Jerusalem. W-e- srossed the first chain of mountains, rode a short distance over a stony upland, and then descended into a long cultivated valley, running to the eastward. At the end nearest us appeared the village of Aboo '1 Ghosh (the Father of Lies), which takes its name from a noted Bedouin shekh, who distin- guished himself a few years ago by levying contributions on tratellers. He obtained a large sum of money iu this way, but as ho added murder to robbt.-y, and fell upon Turks as well as Christians, he was finally captured, and is now expi ating his offences in some mine on the coast of the Black Sea. Near the bottom of the village there is a large ruined build- ing, now used as a stable by the inhabitants. The interior id. divided into a nave and two side aisles by rows of square AGRICULTURE OF THE HILLS. 55 pillars; from which spring pointed arches. The door-way is at the side, and is Gothic, with a dash of Saracenic in the orna- mental mouldings above it. The large window at the extremity of the nave is remarkable for having round arches, which circnra- stance, together with the traces of arabesque painted ornaments on the columns, led me to think it might have been a mosque ; but Dr. Robinson, who is now here, considers it a Christian church, of the time of the Crusaders. The village of Aboo '1 Ghosh is said to be the site of the birth-place of the Prophet Jeremiah, and I can well imagioe it to have been the case. The aspect of the mountain-country to the east and north-east would explain the savage dreariness of his lamentations. The whole valley in which the. village stands, as well as another which joins it on the east, is most assiduously cultivated. The stony mountain sides are wrought into terraces, where, in spite of soil which resembles an American turnpike, patches of wheat are growing luxuriantly, and olive trees, centuries old, hold on to the rocks with a clutch as hard and bony as the hand of Death. In the bed of the valley the fig tree thrives, and sometimes the vine and fig grow together, forming the patriarchal arbor of shade familiar to us all. The shoots of the tree are still young and green, but the blossoms of the grape do not yet give forth their goodly savor. I did not hear the voice of the turtle, but a nightingale sang in the briery thickets by the brook side, as we passed along. Climbing out of this valley, we descended by a stony stair- case, as rugged as the Ladder of Tyre, into the Wady Beit Haniueh. Here were gardens of oranges in blossom, with orchards of quince and apple, overgrown with vines, and the iiragrant hawthorn tree, snowy with its bloom. A stone 56 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. bridge, the only one on the road, crosses the dry bed of a winter stream, and, looking up the glen, I saw the Arab village of Kulonieh, at the entrance of the valley of Elah, glorious with the memories of the shepherd-boy, David. Our road turned off to the right, and commenced ascending a long, dry glen between mountains which grew more sterile the further we «rent. It was nearly two hours past noon, the sun fiercely hot, and our horses were nigh jaded out with the rough road and our impatient spurring. I began to fancy we could see Jerusalem from the top of the pass, and tried to think of the ancient days of Judea. But it was in vain. A newer picture shut them out, and banished even the diviner images of Our Saviour and His Disciples. Heathen that I was, 1 L'ould only think of Godfrey and the Crusaders, toiling up the same path, and the ringing lines of Tasso vibrated constantly ia my ear : ' Ecoo apparir Gierusalemm' si vede ; Ecco additar Gierusalemm' si soorge ; Ecco da mille vooi unitamente, ^ Gieruaalemme salutar si sente !" The Palestine of the Bible — the Land of Promise to the Israelites, the land of Miracle and Sacrifice to the ApostlcB and theii* followers — still slept in the unattainable distance, under a sky of bluer and more tranquil loveliness than that to whose cloudless vault I looked up. It lay as far and beautiful us it once seemed to the eye of childhood, and the swords of Seraphim kept profane feet from its sacred hills. But these rough rocks around me, these dry, fiery hollows, these thickets of ancient oak and ilex, had heard the trumpets of the Middle THE AI'PROACn TO THE HOLT CIIV. 51 Ages, and the elang and clatter of European armor — I could feel and believo that. I entered the ranks ; I followed the trnmpets and the holy hymns, and waited breathlessly for the m'Jment when every mailed knee should drop in the dust, and every bearded and sunburned cheek be wet with devotional tears. But when I climbed the last ridge, and looked ahead with a sort of painful suspense, Jerusalem did not appear. We were two thousand feet above the Mediterranean, whose blue we could dimly see far to the west, through notches in the chain of hills. To the north, the mountains were gray, desolate, and awful. Not a shrub or a . tree reheved their frightful barrenness. An upland tract, covered with white volcanic rock, lay before us. We met peasants with asses, who looked (to my eyes) as if they had just left Jerusalem. Still forward we urged our horses, and reached a ruined garden, surrounded with hedges of cactus, over which I saw domes and walls in the distance. I drew a long breath and looked at Frangois. He was jogging along without turning his head ; he could not have been so indifferent if that was really the city. Presently, we reached another slight rise in the rocky plain. He began to urge his panting horse, and at the same instant we both lashed the spirit into ours, dashed on at a break-neck gallop, round the corner of an old wall on the top of the hill, and lo ! the Holy City !■ Our Greek jerked both pistols from his holsters, and fired them into the air, as we reined up on the steep. From the descriptions of travellers, I had expected to see iu Jerusalem an ordinary modern Turkish town ; but tha,t before lae, with its w ills, fortresses, and domes, was vt not still the 3* 68 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. City of David ? I saw the Jerusalem of the New TL'Stamenl, as 1 had imagined it. , Long lines of walls crowned with a notched parapet and strengthened by towers; a few domes and spires above them; clusters of cypress here and there; this was all that was visible of the city. On either side the hill sloped down to the two deep valleys over which it hangs. Ou the east, the Mount of Olives, crowned with a chapel and mosque, rose high and steep, but in front, the eye passed directly over the city, to rest far away upon the lofty moun- tains of Moab, beyond the Dead Sea. The scene was grand iu its simplicity. The prominent colors were the purple of those distant mountains, a,nd the hoary gray of the nearer hills. The' walls were of the dull yellow of weather-stained marble, and the only trees, the dark cypress and moonlit olive. Now, indeed, for one brief moment, I knew that I was in Palestine : that I saw Mount Olivet and Mount Zion; and — I know not how it was — my sight grew weak, and all objects trembled and wavered in a watery film. Since we arrived, I have looked down upon the city from the Mount of Olives, and np to it from the Valley of Jehosaphat; but I cannot restore the illusion of that first view. We allowed our horses to walk slowly down the remaining half-mile to the Jaffa gate. An Englishman, with a red silk shawl over his head, was sketching the city, while an Arab held an umbrella over him. Inside the gate we stumbled upon an Italian shop with an Italian sign, and after threading n number of intricate passages under dark archways, and being turned off from one hotel, which was full of travellers, reached Another, kept by a converted German Jew, where we found Dr. Robinson and Dr. Ely Smith, who both amved yesterday. It jrntTSAiEM. t'li) Konnds strange to talk of a hotel in Jerasalem, but the world is progressing, and there are already three. I leare to-mor row for Jericho, the Jordan, and the Dead Sea, and shall have more to say of Jerasalem on my retnru. TiO TUE LANDS OF THE oARACJBM CHAPTER IV. THE DEJlD sea AND THE KIVER JORD&N. Bargaining for a Guard — Departure from Jerusalem — The Hill of Offence — Bethauf— < The Grotto of Lazarus — The Valley of Fire — Scenery of the Wilderness — The liilts a Engaddi — The shore of the Dead Sea — A Bituminous Bath — Gallop to the Jordan— A watch for Robbers — The Jordan — Baptism — The Plains of Jericho — The Fountain of Elisha — The Mount of Temptation — Return to Jerusalem. " And the spoiler shall come upon every city, and no city shall escape ; the valley also shall perish and the plain shall be destroyed^ as the Lord hath spoken."— JBRBMIAH, Xlviii. 8. Jbbusalem, Jfay 1, 1S52. I RETURNED this afternoon from an excursion to tlie Dead Sea, the River Jordan, and the site of Jericho. Owing to the approaching heats, an early visit was deemed desirable, and the shekhs, who have charge of the road, were summoned to meet us on the day after we arrived. There are two of these gentlemen, the Shekh el-Arab (of the Bedouins), and the Shekh el-Fellaheen (of the peasants, or husbandmen), to whom each traveller is obliged to pay one hundered piastres for an escort. It is, in fact, a sort of compromise, by which the shekhs agree not to rob the traveller, and to protect him against other shekhs. If the road is not actually safe, the Turkish garrison here is a mere farce, but the arrangement is winked at by the Pasha, who, of course, gets his share of th« DEPARTURE FROM JERUSALEM. 61 100,000 piastres which the two scamps yearly levy upon travellers The shekhs came to our rooms, and after trying to postpone our departure, iu order to attach other tourists to the same escort, and thus save a little expense, took half the pay and agreed to be ready the next morning. TJufortunately for my original plan, the Convent of San Saba has been closed within two or three weeks, and no stranger is now admitted. This unusual step was caused by the disorderly conduct of some Frenchmen who visited San Saba. We sent to the Bishop of the Greek Church, asking a simple permission to view thfl interior of the Convent; but without effect. We left the city yesterday morning by St. Stephen's Gate, descended to the Valley of Jehosaphat, rode under the stone wall which encloses the supposed Gethsemaue, and took a path leading along the Mount of Olives, towards the Hill of Offence, which stands over against the southern end of the city, opposite the mouth of the Vale of Hinnon. Neither of the shekhs made his appearance, but sent in their stead three Arabs, two of whom were mounted and armed with sabres and long guns. Our man, Mustapha, had charge of the baggage- mule, carrying our tent and the provisions for the trip. It was a dull, sultry morning ; a dark, leaden haze hung over Jerusa- lem, and the khamseen, or sirocco-wind, came from the south- west, out of the Arabian Desert. Wo had again resumed the Oriental costume, but in spite of an ample turban, my face soon began to scorch in the dry heat. J'rom the crest of the Hill of Offence there is a wide view over the heights on both sides of the valley of the Brook Kedron. Their sides are worked into terraces, now green with springing grain, and near the bottom planted with olive anc" fig trees The upland rldg« 6S THE liANDS OF THE SARACEN. or watershed of Palestine is cultivated for a cousiderabk distance around Jerusalem. The soil is light and stony, yet appears to yield a good return for the little labor bestowed upon it. Crossing the southern flank of Mount Oliyet, iu half an hom: wc reached the village of Bethany, hanging on the side of the hill. It is a miserable cluster of Arab huts, with not a building which appears to be more than a century old. The Grotto of Lazarns is here shown, and, of course, we stopped to sec it. It belongs to an old Mussulman, who came out of his house with a piece of waxed rope, to light us down. An aperture opens from the roadside into the hill, and there is barely room enough for a person to enter. Descending about twenty steps at a sharp angle, we landed in a small,, damp vault, with an opening in the floor, communicating with a short passage below. The vault was undoubtedly excavated for sepulchral purposes, and the bodies were probably deposited (as in many Egyptian tombs) in the pit under it. Our guide, however, pointed to a square mass of masonry in one corner as the tomb of Lazarus, whose body, he informed us, was still walled up there. There was an arch in the side of the vault, once leading to other chambers, but now closed np, and the guide stated that seventy-four Prophets were interred therein. There seems to be no doubt that the present Arab village occupies the site of Bethany; and if it could be proved that this pit existed at the beginning of the Gliristiau Era, and there never had been any other, we might accept it as the tomb of Lazarus. On the crest of a high hill, over against Bethany, is an Arab village on the site of Bethpage. Wf! descended into the valley of a winter stream, now died THE VALLEY OF FIKE. 62 witli patches of sparse wheat, just beginning to ripeii. Tlie mountains grew more bleak and desolate as we advanced, and as there is a regular descent in the several ranges over which one must pass, the distant hills of the la>nds of Moab and ^mmon were always in sight, rising like a high, blue wall against the sky. The Dead Sea is 4,000 feet below, Jerusa- lem, but the general slope of the intervening district is sr regular that from the spires of the city, and the Mount ol Olives, one can look down directly upon its waters. This deceived me as to the actual distance, and I could scarcely credit the assertion of our Arab. escort, that it would requirei six hours to reach it. After we had ridden nearly two hours, we left the Jericho road, sending Mustapha and a staunch olo Arab direct to our resting-place for the night, in the Valley of the Jordan. The two mounted Bedouins accompanied us across the rugged mountains lying between us and the Dead Sea. At first, we took the way to the Convent of Mar Saba, fol- lowing the course of the Brook Kedron down the Wady i.n-Nar (Valley of Fire). In half an hour more we reached two large tanks, hewn out under the base of a limestone cliif, and nearly filled with rain. The surface was covered with a greenish vegetable scum, and three wild and dirty Arabs of the hills were washing themselves in the principal one Our Bedouins, immediately dismounted and followed their example, and after we had taken some refreshment, we had llie satisfaction of filling our water-jug from the same sweet pool. After this, we left, the San Saba road, and mounted the height east of the valley. From that point, all signs of cuJti ration and habitation disappeared. The mountains were grim, bare, and frightfully rugged. The scanty grass,,coaxcd intalife' 04 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACKN. by the winter rains, was already scorched out of all grcenncBJ some bunches of wild sage, gnaphalium, and other hardy aro' ma tic herbs spotted the yellow soil, and in sheltered places the scarlet poppies burned like coals of fire among the rifts of the gray limestone rock. Our track kept along the higher ridges and crests of the hills, between the glens and gorges which sank on either hand to a dizzy depth below, and were so steep as to be almost inaccessible. The region is so scarred, gashed and torn, that no work of man's hand can save it from perpetual desolation. It is a wilderness more hopeless than tlie Desert. If I were left alone in the midst of it, I should lie down and await death, without thought or hope of rescue. The character of the day was peculiarly suited to enhance the impression of such scenery. Though there were no clouds, tlie sun was invisible : as far as we could see, beyond the Jor- dan, and away southward to the mountains of Moab and the cliffs of Engaddi, the whole country was covered as with the smoke of a furnace ; and the furious sirocco, that threat- ened to topple us down tlic gulfs yawning on either hand, had no coolness on its wings. The horses were sure-footed, bnt now and then a gust would come that made them and us strain against it, to avoid being dashed against the rock on one side, or hurled off the brink on the other. The atmos- phere was painfully oppressive, and by and by a dogged silence took possession of our party. After passing a lofty peak which Frangois called Djcbel Nuttar, the Mountain of Rain, we came to a large Moslem building, situated on u bleak eminence, overlooking part of the valley of the Jordan. This is liio tomb called Nebbee Motissa by the Arabs, and THE SHORE OF THE DEAD SEA. 66 believed by them to stand upon the spot where Moses died We halted at the gate, but no one came to admit us, though my companion thought he saw a man's head at one of the aper- tures in the wall. Arab tradition here is as much at fault aa Christian tradition in many other places. The true Nebo is somewhere in the chain of Pisgah; and though, probably, I saw it, and all see it who go down to the Jordan, yet " no man knoweth its place unto this day." Beyond Nebbee Moussa, we came out upon the last heights overlooking the Dead Sea, though several miles of low hills remained to be passed. The head of the sea was visible as far as the Ras-el-Feshka on the west, and the hot fountains of Callirhoe on the eastern shore. Farther than this, all was vapor and darkness. The water was a soft, deep purple hue, brightening into blue. Our road led down what seemed a vast sloping causeway from the mountains, between two ravines, walled by cliffs several hundred feet in height. It gradually flattened into a plain, covered with a white, saline incrus- tation, and grown with clumps of sour willow, tamarisk, and other shrubs, among which I looked in vain for the osher, or Dead Sea apple. The plants appeared as if smitten with leprosy; but there were some flowers growing almost to the margin of the sea. We reached the shore about 2 p. m. The heat by this time was most severe, and the air so dense as to occasion pains in my ears. The Dead Sea is 1,300 feet below the Mediterranean, and without doubt the lowest part of the earth's surface. I attribute the oppression I felt to this fact and to the sultriness of the day, rather than to any exha- lation from the sea itself Francois remarked, however, that hud the wind — which by this time was veering round to 66 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. the uorttt'cqist — ^blown from the south, we could scarcely hare endared it. The sea resembles a great cauldron, sunk between mountains from three to four thousand feet in height; and pro- bably we did not experience more than a tithe of the summer heat. I proposed a bath, for the sake of experiment, but Frangois endeavored to dissuade us. He had tried it, and nothing could be- more disagreeable ; we • risked getting a fever, and, besides, there were four hours of dangerous travel yet before us. But by this time we were half undressed, and soon were floating on the clear bituminous waves. The beach was fine gravel and shelved gradually down. I kept my turban on my head, and was careful to avoid touching the water with my face. The sea was moderately warm and gratefully soft and soothing to the skin. It was impossible to sink ; and even while swimming, the body rose half out of the •water. I should think it possible to dive for a short distance, but prefer that some one else would try the experiment. With a log of wood for a pillow, one might sleep as on one of the patent mattresses. The taste of the water is salty and pungent, and stings the tongue like saltpetre. We were obliged to dress in all haste, without even wiping off the detestable liquid ; yet I experienced very little of that dis- comfort which most travellers have remarked. Where the skin had been previously bruised, there was a slight smarting sensation, and my body felt clammy and glutinous, but the bath was rather refreshing than otherwise. We turned our horses' heads towards the Jordan, and rode on over a dry, barren plain. The two Bedouins at first dashed ahead at ull gallop, uttering cries, and whirling theii A WATCH FOR ROBBERS, 67 long guns in the air. The dust they raised was blown in our faces, and contained so much salt that' my eyes began to smart painfully. Thereupon I followed them at an equal rate of speed and we left a long cloud of the accursed soil whirling behind us. Presently, however, they fell ,to the rear,- and continued to kee]> at some distance from us. The reason of this was soon explained. The path turned eastward, and we already saw a line of dusky green winding through the wilderness. This was the Jordan, and the mountains beyond, the home of robber Arabs, were close at hand. : Those robbers frequently cross the river and conceal themselves behind the sand-hills on this side. Our brave escort was, therefore, inclined to put us for- ward as a forlorn-hope, and secure their own retreat in case of an attack. But as we were all well armed, and had never consi- dered their attendance as anything more than a genteel way of buying them off from robbing us, we allowed them to lag as much as they chose. Finally, as we approached the Pilgrims' Ford, one of them took his station at some distance from the river, on the top of a mound, while the other got behind some trees near at hand ; in order, as they said, to watch the oppo- • site hills, and alarm us whenever they should see any of the Beni Sukrs, or the Beni Adwams, or the Tyakh, coming down upon us. The Jordan at this point will not average more than ten yards in breadth. It flows at the bottom of a gully about fif- teen feet d«ep, which traverses tlie broad valley in a most tor- tnous course. The water has a white, clayey hue, and is very Bwift. The changes of the current have formed islands and beds of soil here and there, which are covered with a dense growth of ash, poplar, willow, and tamarisk trees. The banks 88 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. of the river are bordered with thickets, now overgrown with wild vines, and fragrant with flowering plants. Birds sing continually in the cool, dark coverts of the trees, I found a singular charm in the wild, lonely, luxuriant banks, the tangled undergrowth, and the rapid, brawling course of the sacred stream, as it slipped in sight and out of sight among the trees It is almost impossible to reach the water at any othei point than the Foi'd of the Pilgrims, the supposed locality of the passage of the Israelites and the baptism of Christ. The plain near it is still blackened by the camp-fires of the ten thousand pilgrims who went down from Jerusalem three weeks ago, to bathe. We tied our horses to the trees, and prepared- to follow their example, whieh was necessary, if only to wash off the iniquitous sllrae of the Dead Sea. Frangois, in the mean- time, tilled two tin flasks from the stream and stowed them m the saddle-bags. The current was so swift, that one could not venture far without the risk of being carried away ; but I sue ceeded in obtaining a complete and most refreshing immersion. The taint of Gomorrah was not entirely washed away, but I rode off with as great a sense of relief as if the baptism had been a moral one, as well, and had purified rae from sin. We rode for nearly two hours, in a north-west direction, to the Bedouin village of Rihah, near the site of ancient Jericho. Before reaching it, the gray salt waste vanishes, and the soil 'm covered with grass and herbs. The barren character of the first region is evidently owing to deposits from the vapors of the Dea Sea, as thej are blown over the plain by the south wind. The channels of streams around Jericho are filled witt nebbuk trees, the fruit of which is just ripening. It is appa- rently indigenous, and grows more luxuriantly than on the CAMP AT JERICHO. S9 White Nile. It is a variety of the rharmms, and is set down by botanists as the Spina Christi, of wliich the Saviour's mock crown of thorns was made. I see no reason to doubt this, as the twigs are long and pliant, and armed with small, though most cruel, thorns. I had to pay for gathering some of tho fruit, with a torn dress and bleeding fingers. The little apples which it bears are slightly acid and excellent for alleviating thirst, I also noticed on the plain a variety of the night- shade,, with large berries of a golden color. The spring flowers, so plentiful now in all other parts of Palestine, have already disappeared from the Valley of the Jordan. Rihah is a vile little village of tents and mud-huts, and the only relic of antiquity near it is a square tower, which may possibly be of the time of Herod. There are a few gardens in the place, and a grove of superb fig-trees. We found our tent already pitched beside a rill which issues from the Fountain of Elisha. The evening was very sultry, and the musquitoes gave us no rest. We purchased some milk from an old man who came to the tent, but such was his mistrust of us that he refused to let us keep the earthen vessel contain- ing it until morning. As we had already paid the money to his son, we would not let him take the milk away until he had brought the money back. He then took a dagger from his waist and threw it before us as security, while he carried oflf the vessel and returned the price. I have, frequently seen the same mistrustful spirit exhibited in Egypt. Our two Bedouins, to whom I gave some tobacco in the evening, manifested their gratitude by stealing the remainder of our stock during the aight. This morning we followed the stream to its source, the 70 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. Fountain (if Elisha, so called as being probably that healed by the Prophet. If so, the healing was scarcely complete. Tho water, which gushes up strong and free at the foot of a rocky mound, is warm and slightly brackish. It spreads into a shallow pool, shaded by a fine sycamore tree. Just below, there are some remains of old walls on both sides, and the stream goes roaring away through a rank jungle of canes fifteen feet in height. The precise site of Jericho, I believei, has not been fixed, but " the city of the palm trees," as it was called, was probably on the plain, near some mounds which rise behind the Fountain. Here there are occasional traces of foundation walls, but so ruined as to give no clue to the date of their erection. Further towards the mountain there are some arches, which appear to be Saracenic. As we ascended again into the hill-country, I observed several traces of cisterns in the bottoms of ravines, which collect the rains. Herod, as is well known, built many such cisterns near Jericho, where he had a palace. On the first crest, to which we climbed, there is part of a Roman tower yet standing. The view, looking back over the valley of Jordan, is magnificent, extending from the Dead Sea to the mountains of Gilead, beyond the country of Ammon. I thought I could trace the point where the River, Yabbok comes down from Mizpeh of Gilead to join the Jordan. The wilderness we now entered was fully as barren, but less rugged than that through which we passed yesterday.. The path ascended along the brink of a deep gorge, at the bottom of which a little stream foamed over the rocks. The high, bleak summits towards which we were climbing, are considered by some Biblical geographers to be Mount Quarantana, the scene of Christ's fasting and temptation. After two hours we RKTOKN TO JERUSALEM. 11 reached the ruins of a large khan or hostlery, under one of th« peaks, which Francois stated to be the veritable " high moan< tain " whence the Devil pointed out all the kingdoms of the earth. There is a cave in the rock beside the road, which tho superstitious look upon as the orifice out of which his Satanic Majesty issued. We met large numbers of Arab families, with their flocks, descending from the mountains to take up their summer residence near the Jordan. They were all on foot, except the young children and goats, which were stowed together on the backs of donkeys. The men were armed, and appeared to be of the same tribe as our escort, with whom they bad a good understanding. The morning was cold and cloudy, and we hurried on over the hills to a fountain in the valley of the Brook Kedron, where we breakfasted. Before we had reached Bethany a rain came down, and the sky hung dark and lowering over Jerusa- lem, as we passed the crest of Mount Olivet. It still rains, and the filthy condition of the city exceeds anything I have seen, even in the Orient. frU THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. CHArXER V. THE CITY OF CHRIST. ttodem Jerusalem— The Site or the City— Mount Zion- Mount Morlah — The T^mple-r' The Valley of Jehosaphat— The Olives of G eth soman e— The Mount of Olives— Moslem Tradition— Panorama from the Summit — The Interior of the City — The Popu ation— Missions and Missionaries — Christianity in Jerusalem — Intclerance— The Jsws of Jerusalem — The Face of Christ — The Church of the Holy Sepulchre — The Uoly of Holies— The Sacred Localities — Visions of Christ^— The Mosque of Omar— The Uolj Man orTim1>uctoo — Preparations for Departure. *' Cut otf thy haiff Jerusalem, and cast it aw^ay, and take up a lamentation in high rlaCRs; for the Lord hath rejected and forsaken the generation of his wrath."- Jkremiau vii. 29. " Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Ueaven." MlLTOBi. Jbrusalbh, Monday^ 3tay 8, 1862. Since travel is becoming a necessary part of education, and a journey through the East is no longer attended with personal risk, Jerusalem will soon be as familiar a station on the grand tour as Paris or Naples. The task of describing it is already next to superfluous, so thoroughly has the topography of the city been laid down by the surveys of Robinson and tlic drawings of Roberts. There is little more left for Biblical research. The few places which can be authenticated are now generally accepted, and the many doubtful oucs must always be the subjects of speculation and conjecture. There MODERN JERUSALEM. IS is no new light which can remove the cloud of uncertainties wherein one continually wanders. Yet, even rejecting al, these with the most skeptical spirit^ there still remains enough to make the place sacred in the eyes of every follower of Christ. The city stands on the ancient site ; the Mount of Olives looks down upon it ; the foundations of the Temple of Solomon are on Mount Moriah ; the Pool of Siloam has still Si, cup of water for those who at noontide go down to the Valley of Jehosaphat ; the ancient gate yet looketh towards Damascus, and of the Palace of Herod, there is a tower which Time and Turk and Crusader have spared. Jerusalem is built on the summit ridge of the hill-country of Palestine, just where it begins to slope eastward. Not half a mile from the Jaffa Gate, the waters run towards the Mediterranean. It is about 2,100 feet above the latter, and 4,000 feet above the Dead Sea, to which the descent is much more abrupt. The hill, or rather group of small mounts, on which Jerusalem stands, slants eastward to the brink of the Valley of Jehosaphat, and the Mount of Olives rises opposite, from the sides and summit of which, one sees the entire city spread out like a map before him. The Valley of Hinnon, the bed of which is on a much higher level than that of Jehosaphat, skirts the south-western and southern part of the walls, and drops into the latter valley at the foot of Mount Zion, the most southern of the mounts. The steep slope at the junction of the two valleys is the site of the city of the Jebusites, the most ancien' Dart of Jerusalem. It is now covered with garden-terraces, the present wall crossing from Mount Zion on the south to Mount Moriah on the east. A little glen, anciently called the Tyropeon, dividefj the 4 74 THB LANDS OF THE SARACEN. mounts, and winds through to the Damascus Gate; or, th« north, though from the height of the walls and the position of the city, the depression which it causes iu the mass of buildings is not very perceptible, except from the latter point. Moriah is the lowest of the mounts, and hangs directly over the Valley of Jehosaphat. Its summit was built up by Solomon so as to form a quadrangular terrace, five hundred by three hundred yards in dimension. The lower courses pf the grand wall, composed of huge blocks of gray conglomerate limestone, still remain, and there seems to be no doubt that they are of the time of Solomon. Some of the stones are of enormous size ; I noticed several which were fifteen, and one twenty-two feet in length. The upper part of the wall was restored by Sultan Sclim, the conqueror of Egypt, and the level of the terrace now supports the great Mosque of Omar, which stands on the very site of the temple. Except these foundation walls, the Damascus Gate and the Tower of Hippicus, there is nothing left of the ancient city. Tht length of the present wall of circumference is about two miles but the circuit of Jernsalem, in the time of Herod, was probably double that distance. The best views of the city are from the Mount of Olives, itud the hill north of it, whence Titus directed the siege which resulted in its total destruction. The Crnsaders nnder God- frey of Bouillon encamped on the same hill. My first walk after reaching here, was to the summit of the Mount of Olives, Not far from the hotel we came upon the Via Dolorosa, up which, according to Catholic tradition, Christ toiled with the cross upon his shoulders. I found it utterly impossible to Imagine that I was walking in the same path, and prefened THE VALLEY OF JEHOSArllAT. 76 doubting the tradition. An arch is built across the street at the spot where they say he was shown to the populace; (Ecce Homo.) The passage is steep and rough, descending to St. Stephen's Gate by the Governor's Palace, which stands on the site of the house of Pontius Pilate. Here, in the wall forming the northern part of the foundation of the temple, there are some very fine remains of ancient workmanship. From the city wail, the ground descends abruptly to the Valley of Jehosaphat. The Turkish residents have their tombs on the city side, just under the terrace of the mosque, while thousands of Jews find a peculiar beatitude in having themselves interred on the opposite slope of the Mount of Olives, which is in some places quite covered with their crumbling tombstones. The bed of the Brook Kedron is now dry and stony. A sort of chapel, built in the bottom of the valley, is supposed by the Greeks to cover the tomb of the Virgin — a claim which the Latins consider absurd. Near this, at the very foot of the Mount of Olives, the latter sect have lately built a high stone wall around the Garden of Gethse- mane, for the purpose, apparently, of protecting the five aged olives. I am ignorant of the grounds wherefore Gethseraaue is placed here. Most travellers have given their faith to the spot, but Dr. Robinson, who is more reliable than any amount of mere tradition, does not coincide with them. The trees do not appear as ancient as some of those at the foot of Mount Carmel, which are supposed to date from the Roman colony established by Titus. Moreover, it is well known that at the time of the taking of Jerusalem by that Emperor, all the trees, for many miles around, were destroyed. The olive-trees, tlierefore, cannot be those under which Chtitit ■f6 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. rested, even supposing this to be the true site of Qetls semane. The Mount of Olives is a steep and rugged hill, dominating orer the city and the surrounding heights. It is still covered with olive orcharis, and planted with patches of grain, whicli do not thrive wtU on the stony soil. On the summit is a mosque, with a minaret attached, which affords a grand pano- ramic view. As we. reached it, the Chief of the College of Dervishes, in the court of the Mosque of Omar, came out with a number of attendants. He saluted us courteously, which would not have been the case had he been the Superior of the Latin Convent, and we Greek Monks. There were some Turkish ladies in the interior of the mosque, so that we could not gain admittance, and therefore did not see the rock con- taining the foot-prints of Christ, who, according to Moslem tradition, ascended to heaven from this spot. The Mohamme- ians, it may not be generally known, accept the history of Christ, except his crucifixion, believing that he passed to heaven without death, another person being crucified in his stead. They call him the Roh-AUah, or Spirit of God, and consider him, after Mahomet, as the holiest of the Prophets. We ascended to the gallery of the minaret. The city lay o]>posite; so fairly spread out to our view that almost every house might be separately distinguished. It is a mass of gray buildings, with dome-roofs, and but for the mosques of Omar and El Aksa, with the courts and galleries around them, would be exceedingly tame in appearance. The only other prominent points are the towers of the Holy Sepulchre, the citadel, enclosing Herod's Tower, and the mosque on mount Zion. Thf A SACRED PANORAMA. 71 Turkish wall, with its sharp angles, its square bastions, and the long', embrasured lines of its parapet, is the most striding feature of the view. Stony hills stretch away from the city on all sides, at present cheered with tracts of springing wheat, but later in the season, brown and desolate. In the south, the convent of St. Elias is visible, and part of the little town of Bethlehem. 1 passed to the eastern side of the gallery, and looking thence, deep down among the sterile mountains, beheld a long sheet of blue water, its southern extremity vanishing in a hot, sulphury haze. The mountains of Ammon and Moab, which formed the back-ground of my first view of Jerusalem, leaned like a vast wall against the sky, beyond the mysterious sea and the broad valley of the Jordan. The great depression of this valley below the level of the Mediterranean gives it a most remarkable character. It appears even deeper than ia actually the case, and resembles an enormous chasm or moat, separating two different regions of the earth. The khamseen was blowing from the south, from out the deserts of Edom, and threw its veil of fiery vapor over the landscape. The muezzin pointed out to me the location of Jericho, of Kerak in Moab, and Es-Salt in -the country of Ammon. Ere long the shadow of tlie minaret denoted noon, and, placing his hands on both sides of his mouth, he cried out, first on tlie South side, towards Mecca, and then to the West, and North, and East : " God is great : there is no God but God, and Mohammed is His Prophet! Let us prostrate ourselves before Him : and to Him alone be the glory!" Jerusalem, internally, gives no impression but that of Eltb, ruin, poverty, and degradation. There are two or three streets in the western or higher portion of the city wiiich are 78 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN tolerably clean, but all the others, to the very gates of the Holy Sepulchre, are channels of pestilence. The Jewish Quar- ter, which is the largest, so sickened and disgusted me, that I should rather go the whole round of the city walla than pass through it a second time. The bazaars are poor, compared with those of other Oriental cities of the same size, and the principal trade seems to be in rosaries, both Turkish and Chris- tian, crosses, seals, amulets, and pieces of the Holy Sepulchre. The population, which may possibly reach 20,000, is apparently Jewish, for the most part ; at least, I have been principally struck with the Hebrew face, in my walks. The number of Jews has increased considerably within a few years, and there is also quite a number who, having been converted to Pro- testantism, were brought hither at the expense of English missionary societies for the purpose of forming a Protestant community. Two of the hotels are kept by families of tliia class. It is estimated that each member of the community has cost the Mission about £4,500 : a sura which would have Christianized tenfold the number of Englisli heathen. The Mission, however, is kept up by its patrons, as a sort of religi- ous luxury. The English have lately built a very handsome church within the walls, and the Rev. Dr. Gobat, well known by his missionary labors in Abyssinia, now has the title of Bishop of Jerusalem. A friend of his in Central Africa gave mc a letter of introduction for hinj, and I am quite disap' pointed in finding him absent. Dr. Barclay, of Virginia, a most worthy man in every respect, is at the head of the Amo rican Mission here. There is, besides, what is called the " American Colony,'" at the village of Artos, near Bethlehem ! a little community of religious enthusiasts, whose experimenis CHRISTIANITY IN JERUSALEM. 19 tn cnltiTation have met with remarkable success, and are much spoken of at present. Whatever good the various missions here may, in time accomplish (at present, it does not amount to much), Jerusa leni is the last, place in the world where an intelligent heathen would be converted to Christianity. Were I cast here, igno- rant of any religion, and were I to compare the lives and practices of the different sects as the means of making my choice — in short, to judge of each faith by the conduct of its professors — I should at once turn Mussulman. When you consider that in the Holy Sepulchre there are nineteen chapels, each belonging to a different sect, culling itself Christian, and that a Turkish police is always stationed there to prevent tlio bloody quarrels which often ensue between them, you may judge how those who call themselves followers of the Prince of Peace practice the pure faith he sought to establish. Between the Greek and Latin churches, especially, tliero is a deadly feud, and their contentions are a scandal, not only to the few Christians here, but to the Moslems themselves. I believe there is a sort of truce at present, owing to the settle- ment of some of the disputes — as, for instance, the restoration of the silver star, which the Greeks stole from the shruie of the Nativity, at Bethlehem. The Latins, however, not long since, demolished, ri el armis, a chapel which the Greeks com- menced building on Mount Zion. But, if the employment of material weapons has been abandoned for the time, there is none the less a war of words and of sounds still going on. Gc into the Holy Sepulchre, when mass is being celebrated, and you can scarcely endure the din. No sooner does the Greek choir begin its shrill chant, than the Latins fly to the assault BO THE LANDS Ot THE SARACEN. They have an organ, and terribly does that organ strain its bellows and labor its pipes to drown the rival singing. Yoa think the Latins will carry the day, when suddenly the cymbals of the Abyssinians strike in with harsh brazen clang, and, for the moment, triumph. Then there are Copts, and Maronites, and Armenians, and I know not how many other sects, who must have their share ; and the service that should be a many- toned harmony pervaded by one grand spirit of devotion, becomes a discorcfaiit orgie, befitting the rites of Belial. A long time ago — I do not know the precise number of years — the Sultan granted a firman, in answer to the applica- tion of both Jews and Cliristians. allowing the members of each sect to put to death any person belonging to the other sect, who should be found inside of their churches or syna- gogues. The firman has never been recalled, though in every place but Jerusalem it remains a dead letter. Here, although the Jews freely permit Christians to enter their synagogue, a Jew who slionld enter the Holy Sepulchre would be lucky if he escaped with his life. Not long since, an English gentle- man, who was taken by the monks for a Jew, was so severely beaten that he was confined to his bed for two months. What worse than scandal, what abomination, that the spot looked upon by so many Christians as the most awfully sacred ou earth, should be the scene of such brutish intolerance ! I never pass the group of Turkish officers, quietly smoking their long pipes and sipping their coffee within the vestibule of the Church, without a feeling of humiliation. Worso than the money-changers whom Clirist scourged out of the Temple, tlie guardians of this edifice make use of His crucifixicn and resun'ection as a means of gain. You may buy a piece of the THE JEWS or JERUSALEM. 81 Stone covering the Holy Sepulchre, duly certified by the Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem, for about $1. At Bethlehem, which I vi?ited this morning, the Latin monk who showed us the manger, the pit where 12,000 innocents were buried, and other things, had much less to say of the sacredness or authen- ticity of the place, than of the injustice of allowing the Greeks u share in its possession. T "rj native Jewish families in Jerusalem, as well as those in other parts of Palestine, present a marked difference to the Jews of Europe and America. They possess the same physi- cal characteristics — -the dark, oblong eye, the prominent nosQ the strongly-marked cheek and jaw — but in the latter, these traits have become harsh and coarse. Centuries devoted to the lowest and most debasing forms of traffic, with the endu- rance of persecutioji and contumely, have greatly changed and vulgarized the appearance of the race. But the Jews of the Holy City still retain a noble beauty, which proved to my mind their descent from the ancient princely houses of Israel The forehead is loftier, the eye larger and more frank in its expression, the nose more delicate in its prominence, and the face a purer oval. I have remarked the same distinction in the countenances of those Jewish families of Europe, whose members have devoted themselves to Art or Literature. Mendelssohn's was a face that might have belonged to the Hoase of David. On the evening of my arrival in the city, as I set out to walk through the bazaars, I encountered a native Jew, whose face will haunt me for the rest of my life. I was sauntering slowly along, asking myself " Is this Jerusalem ? " when, lifting my eyes, they met those of Christ 1 It was the very 4* 82 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEK. face which Raphael has painted — the traditional features of the Savioir, as they are recognised and accepted by al Christendom. The waving brown hair, partly hidden by a Jewish cap, fell clustering about the ears ; the face was the most perfect oval, and almost feminine in the purity of its outline ; the serene, child-like mouth was shaded with a light moustache, and a silky brown beard clothed the chin ; but the eyes — shall I ever look into such orbs again ? Large, dark, unfathomable, they beamed with an expression of divine love and divine sorrow, such as I never before saw in human face. The man had just emerged from a dark archway, and the golden glow of the sunset, reflected from a white wall above,, fell upon his face. Perhaps it was this transfiguration which made his beauty so unearthly ; but, during the moment that I saw him, he was to me a revelation of the Saviour. There are still miracles in the Land of Judah. As the dusk gathered in the deep streets, I could see nothing but the ineffable sweetness and benignity of that countenance, and my friend was not a little astonished, if not shocked, when I said to him, with the earnestness of belief, on my return : " I have just seen Christ." I made the round of the Holy Sepulchre on Sunday, while the monks were celebrating the festival of the Invention of the Cross, in the chapel of the Empress Helena. As the finding of the cross by the Empress is almost the only authority for the places inclosed within the Holy Sepulchre, I went there inclined to doubt their authenticity, and came away with my floubt vastly strengthened. The building is a confused laby- rinth of chapels, choirs, shrines, staircases, and vaults — without auy definite plan or any architectural beauty, though very riot THE HOLY SEPULCHRE 88 in parts and full of picturesque effects. Golden lamps con- tinually burn before the sacred places, and you rarely yisit the church without seeing some procession of monks, with crosses, censers, and tapers, threading the shadowy passages, from shrine to shrine It is astonishing how many localities are assembled under one roof. At first, you are shown the stone on which Christ rested from the burden of the cross ; then, the place where the soldiers cast lots for His garments, both of them adjoining the Sepulchre. After seeing this, you are taken to the Pillar of Flagellation ; the stocks ; the place of crowning with thorns ; the spot where He met His mother ; the cave where the Empress Helena found the cross ; and, lastly, the summit of Mount Calvary. The Sepulchre is a small marble building in the centre of the church. We removed our shoes at the entrance, and were taken by a Greek monk, first into a sort of ante-chamber, lighted with golden lamps, and having in the centre, inclosed in a case of marble, the stone on which the angel sat. Stooping through a low door, we entered the Sepulchre itself. Forty lamps of gold burn unceasingly above the white marble slab, which, as the monks say, protects the stone whereon tlie body of Christ was laid. As we again emerged, our guide led us up a flight of steps to a second story, in which stood a shrine, literally blazing with gold. Kneeling on the marble floor, he removed a golden shield, and showed us the hole in the rock of Calvary, where the cross was planted. Close beside it was the fissure pro- duced by the earthquake which followed the Crucifixion. But, to ray eyes, aided by the light of the dim wax taper, it was no violent rupture, such as an earthquake would produce, and the rock did no't appear tc be the same as that of which Jerusalem 84 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEK. is bnilt. As we turned to leave, a monk appeared with a bowl of sacred rose-water, which he sprinkled on our hands, bestowing a double portion on a rosary of sandal-wood which I carried But it was a Mohammedan rosary, brought from Mecca, and containing the sacred number of ninety-nine beads. I have not space here to state all the arguments for and against the localities in the Holy Sepulchre. I came to the conclusion that none of them were authentic, and am glad to have the concurrence of such distinguished authority as Dr. Robinson. So far from this being a matter of regret, I, for one, rejoice that those sacred spots are lost to the world, Christianity does not need them, and they are spared a daily profanation in the name of religion. We know that Christ lias walked on the Mount of Olives, and gone down to the Pool of Siloam, and tarried in Bethany; we know that here, within the circuit of our vision, He has suffered agony and death, and that from this little point went out all the light that has made the world greater and happier and better in its later than in its earlier days. Yet, I must frankly confess, in wandering through this city — revered alike by Christians, Jews and Turks as one of the holiest in the world — I have been reminded of Christ, the Man, rather than of Christ, the God. In the glory which overhangs Palestine afar off, we imagine emotions which never come., when we tread the soil and walk over the hallowed Bites. As I toiled up the Mount of Olives, in the very foot- steps of Christ, panting with the heat and the difficult ascent, I found it utterly impossible to conceive that the Deity, in human form, had walked there before me. And even at night, as I walk on the terraced roof, while the moon, " the balm} VISIONa Oi' CHRIST. 85 raoon of blessed Israel," restores the Jerusalem of olden aays to my imagination, the Saviour who then haunts my thoughts is the Man Jesus, in those moments of trial Avhen He felt the weaknesses of our common humanity; in that agony of struggle in the garden of Gethsemane, in that still more bitter cry of human doubt and human appeal from the cross : " My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me !" Yet there is nc reproach for this conception of the character of Christ Better the diTinely-inspired Man, the purest and most perfect of His race, the pattern and type of all that is good and holy In Humanity, than the Deity for whose intercession we pray, wliile we trample His teachings under our feet. It would be well for many Christian sects, did they keep more constantly before their eyes the sublime humanity of Christ. Hoiv much bitter intolerance and persecution might be spared the world, if, instead of simply adoring Him as a Divine Mediator, they would strive to walk the ways He trod on earth. But Chris- tianity is still undeveloped, and there is yet no sect which represents its full and perfect spirit. It is my misfortune if I give offence by these remarks. I cannot assume emotions 1 do not feel, and must describe Jeru- salem as I found it. Since being here, I have read the accounts of several travellers, and in many cases the devotional rhapsodies — the ecstacies of awe and reverence — in which they indulge, strike me as forced and affected. The pious writers hare described what was expected of them, not what they found. It was partly from reading such accounts that my anticipations were raised too high, for the view of the city 'rom the Jaffa road and the panorama from the Mount of Olives ore the only things wherein I have been pleasantly disappointed 86 THE LANDS OF THE SABACEN By far the most interesting relic left to the city is the foun dation wall of Solomon's Temple. The Mosque of Omar, according to the accounts of the Turks, and Mr. Catherwood's examination, rests on immense vaults, which are believed to be the substructions of the Temple itself. Under the dome of the mosque there is a large mass of natural rock, revered by the Moslems as that from which Mahomet mounted the beast Borak when he visited the Seven Heavens, and believed by Mr. Catherwood to have served as part of the foundation of the Holy of Holies. No Christian is allowed to enter the mosque, or even its enclosure, on penalty of death, and even the firman of the Sultan has failed to obtain admission for a Frank. I have been strongly tempted to make the attempt in my Egyptian dress, which happens to resemble that of a moUah or Moslem priest, but the Dervishes in the adjoining college have sharp eyes, and my pronunciation of Arabic would betray me in case I was accosted. I even went so far as to buy a string of the large beads usually carried by a mol- lah, but unluckily I do not know the Moslem form of prayer, or I might carry out the plan under the guise of religious abstraction. This morning we succeeded in getting a nearer view of the mosque from the roof of the Governor's palace. Francois, by assuming the character of a Turkish cawass, gained us admission. The roof overlooks the entire enclosure of the Haram, and gives a complete view of the exterior of the mosque and the paved court surrounding it. There is no regularity in the style of the buildings in the enclosure, but the general effect is highly picturesque. The great dome of the mosque is the grandest in all the Orient, but the body of the «diflce, made to resemble an octagonal tent, and covered with THE MOSQUE OF OMAK. 8? blue and white tiles, is not high enough to do it justice. The first court is paved with marble, and has four porticoes, each of five light Saracenic arches, opening into the green park, which occupies the rest of the terrace. This park is studded with cypress and fig trees, and dotted all over with the tombs of ehekhs. As we were looking down on the spacious area, behold I who should come along hut Shekh Mohammed Senoi*- see, the holy man of Timbuctoo, who had laid off his scarlet robe and donned a green one. I called down to him, where- upon he looked up and recognised us. For this reason I regret our departure from Jerusalem, as I am sure a little persuasion would induce the holy man to accompany me within the mosque. We leave to-morrow for Damascus, by way of Nazareth and Tiberius. My original plan was to have gone to Djerash, the ancient Geraza, in the land of Gilead, and thence to Bozrah, in Djebel Hauaran. But Djebel Adjeloun, as the country about Djerash is called, is under a powerful Bedouin shekh, named Abd-el Azeez, and without an escort from him, which involves considerable delay and a fee of $150, it would be impossible to make the journey. We are therefore restricted to the ordinary route, and in case we should meet with any difficulty by the way, Mr. Smith, the American Consul, who ia now here, has kindly procured us a firman from the Pasha ot Jerusalem. All the travellers here are making preparations to eave, but there are still two parties in the Desert. 88 THE LANDS OF THE RARACBK. CHAPTER VI. IHE HILL-COUNTRY OF PALESTINK. l*«TinR J iruMlem— The Tombs of the Kings— El Blreh— The Hlll-Countiy— First View of Mount Hermon — The Tomb of Joseph — Ebal and Gerlzim — The Oai'dcna of Nablous — The Samaritans — The Sacred Book — A Scene in the Synagogue — Mentoi and Telemachus — Ride to Samaria — The Ruins of Sebaste — Scriptural Landscapes- Halt at Genln — The Plain of Esdraelon — Palestine and California — ^The Hills of Naeareth — Accident — Fra Joachim — The Church of the Virgin —The Shrine of the Annunciation — ^The Holy Places. " Blest land of Judea ! thrice hallowed of song, Where the holiest of memories pilgrim-like throng: In the shade of thy palms, by the shores of thy sea, On the hills of thy beauty, my lieart is with thee ! " J. G. Whittieh. Li TIN COKTEKT, Nasakbth, I'ridaj/, May 7, 1852. We left Jerusalem by the Jaffa Gate, because within a few months neither travellers nor baggage are allowed to pass the Damascus Gate, on account of smuggling operations having been carried on there. Not far from the city wall there is a superb terebinth tree, now in the full glory of Its shining green leaves. It appears to be bathed in a perpetual dew ; the rounded masses of foliage sparkle and glitter in the light, and tho great spreading boughs flood the turf below with a deluge of delicious shade. A number of persons were reclining on iho grass under it, and one of them, a very handsome Christian boy, spoke to us in Italian and English. I scarcely remembei THE TOMBS OF THE .KINftS. - 89 a brighter and purer day than that of onr departure. The sky was a sheet of spotless blue ; every rift and scar of the distant hills was retouched with a firmer pencil, and all the outlines, blurred away by the haze of the previous few days, were restored with wonderful distinctness. The temperature was hot, but not sultry, and the air we breathed was an elixir of immortality. Through a luxuriant olive grove we reached the Tombs of the Kings, situated in a small valley to the north of the city. Part of the valley, if not the whole of it, has been formed by quarrying away the crags of marble and conglomerate lime- stone for building the city. Near the edge of the low cliffs overhanging it, there are some illustrations of the ancient mode of cutting stone, which, as well as the custom of excavating tombs in the rock, was evidently borrowed from Egypt. The upper surface of the rocks was first made smooth, after which the blocks were mapped out and cut apart by grooves chiselled between them. I visited four or five tombs, each of which had a sort of vestibule or open portico in front. The door was low, and the chambers which I entered, small and black, without sculptures of any kind. The tombs bear some resem- blance in their general plan to those of Thebes, except that they are without ornaments, either sculptured or painted. There are fragments of sarcophagi in some of them. On the southern side of the valley is a large quarry, evidently worked for marble, as the blocks have been cut out from below, leaving a large overhanging mass, part of which has broken off and fallen down. Some pieces which I picked up were of a very fine white marble, somewhat resembling that of Carrara Vlie opeuiug of the quarry made a striking picture, the sofl 00 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. pink huo of tlie vreather^stained rock contrasting exquigitelj with the vivid green of the vines festooning the entrance. From the long hill beyond the Tombs, we took onr last view of Jerusalem, far beyond whose walls I saw the Church of the Nativity, at Bethlehem. The Jewish synagogue on the top of the mountain called Nebbee Samwil, the highest peak in Pales- tine, was visible at some distance to the west. Notwithstand- ing its sanctity, I felt little regret at leaving Jerusalem, and cheerfully took the rough road northward, over the stony hills. There wore few habitations in sight, yet the hill-sides were cultivated, wherever it was possible for anything to grow. The wheat was just coming into head, and the people were at work, planting maize. After four hours' ride, we reached El Bireh, a little village on a hill, with the ruins of a convent and a large khan. The place takes its name from a fountain of excellent water, beside which we found our tents already pitched. In the evening, two Englishmen, ail ancient Mentor, with a wild young Telemachus in charge, arrived, and camped near us. The night was calm and cool, and the full moon poured a flood of light over the bare and silent hills. We rose long before sunrise, and rode off in the brilliant morning — the sky unstained by a speck of vapor. In the valley, beyond Bl Bireh, the husbandmen were already at their ploughs, and the village boys were on their way to the uncul- tured parts of the hills, with their flocks of sheep and goats. 'J'te valley terminated in a deen gorge, with perpendicular walls of rock on either side. Our road mounted the hill on ohe eastern side, and followed the brink of the precipice through the pass, where an enchanting landscape opened upon us. The village of Yebrood crowned a hill which rose oppo THE HILL-COUNTRY. 91 Bite, and the monntain slopes leaning towards it on all sidea were covered with orchards of fig trees, and either rustling with wheat or cleanly ploughed for maize. The soil was a dark brown loam, and very rich. The stones have been laboriously built into terraces ; and, even where heavy rocky boulder? almost hid the soil, young fig and olive trees were planted in the crevices between them. I have never seen more thorough and patient cultivation. In the crystal of the morning aii', the very hills laughed with plenty, and the whole landscape beamed with the signs of gladness on its countenance. The site of ancient Bethel was not far to the right of our road. Over hills laden with the olive, fig, and vine, we passed to Ain el-Haramiyeh, or the Fountain of the Robbers. Here there are tombs cut in the rock on both sides of the valley. Over auother ridge, we descended to a large, bowl-shaped valley, entirely covered with wheat, and opening eastward towards the Jordan. Thence to Nablons (the Shechem of the Old and Sychar of the New Testament) is four hours through a winding dell of the richest harvest land. On the way, we first caught sight of the snowy top of Mount Hermon, distant at least eighty miles in a straight line. Before reaching Nablous, I stopped to drink at a fountain of clear and sweel; water, beside a square pile of masonry, upon which sat two Moslem dervishes. This, we were told, was the Tomb of Joseph, whose body, after having accompanied the Israelites in all their wanderings, was at last deposited near Shechem. There is less reason to doubt this spot than rn Dst of the sacred places of Palestine, for the reason that it rests, not on Chris- tian, but on Jewish tradition. The wonderful tenacity with which the Jews cling to every record or memento of their earlj 92 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACEN. history, and the fact that from the time of Joseph a portion of them have always lingered near the spot, render it highly probable that the locality of a spot so sacred should have been preserved from generation to generation to the present time. It has been recently proposed to open this tomb, by digging under it from the side. If the body of Joseph was actually deposited here, there are, no doubt, some traces of it remaining. It must have been embalmed, according to the Egyptian cus- tom, and placed in a coffin of the Indian sycamore, the wood of which is so nearly incorruptible, that thirty-five centuries would not suffice for its decomposition. The singular interest of such a discovery would certainly justify the experiment. Not far from the tomb is Jacob's Well, where Christ met the Woman of Samaria. This place is also considered as authen tic, for the same reasons. If not wholly convincing to all, there is, at least, so much probability in them that one is freed from that painful coldness and incredulity with which he oeholds the sacred shows of Jerusalem. Leaving the Tomb of Joseph, the road turned to the west, and entered the narrow pass between Mounts Ebal and Geri- zim. The former is a steep, barren peak, clothed with terraces of cactus, standing on the northern side of the pass. Mount Gerizira is cultivated nearly to the top, and is truly a moun- tain of blessing, compared with j'^^s neighbor. Through an orchard of grand old olive-trees, we reached Nablous, which presented a charming picture, with its long mass of white, dome-topped stone houses, stretching along the foot of Gerizim through a sea of bowery orchards. The bottom of the valley resembles some old garden run to waste. Abundant streams, poured from the generous heart of the Mount of Blessing, leaf NABLOCS. 93 and gurgle with pleasant noises through thickets of orange, fig, and pomegranate, through bowers of roses and tangled masses of briars and wild vines. We halted in a grove of olives, and, after our tent was pitched, walked upward through the orchards to the Ras-el-Ain (Promontory of the Fountain), or. the side of Mount Gerizim. A multitude of beggars sat at the city gate ; and, as they continued to clamor after I had given sufficient alms, I paid them with "Allah deekk!" — (God give it to you 1) — the Moslem's reply to such importunity — and they ceased in an instant. This exclamation, it seems, takes away from them the power of demanding a second time. Prom under the Ras-el-Ain gushes forth the Pountain of Honey, so called from the sweetness and purity of the water. We drank of it, and I found the taste very agreeable, but my companion declared that it had an unpleasant woolly flavor. When we climbed a little higher, we found that the true source from which the fountain is supplied was above, and that an A.rab was washing a flock of sheep in it 1 We continued our walk along the side of the mountain to the other end of the sity, through gardens of almond, apricot, prune, and walnut- trees, bound each to each by great vines, whose heavy arms they seemed barely able to support. The interior of the town is dark and filthy; but it has a long, busy bazaar extending its whole length, and a cafe, where we procured the best coffee in Syria. Nablous is noted for the existence of a small remnant of the ancient Samaritans. The stock has gradually dwindled away, and amounts to only forty families, containing little more than a hundred and fifty individuals. They live in a particulai 04 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEW. quarter of the city, and are easily distinguished froia the otlier inhabitants by the cast of their features. After our guide, a native of Nablous, had pointed out three or four, I had uo difficulty in recognising all the others we met. They have long, but not prominent noses, like the J^ws ; small, oblong eyes, narrow lips, and fair complexions, most of them having brown hair. They appear to be held in considerable obloquy by the Moslems. Our attendant, who was of the low class of Arabs, took the boys we met very unceremoniously by the head, calling out : " Here is another Samaritan !" He then conducted us to their synagogue, to see the celebrated Penta- teuch, which is there preserved. We were taken to a small, open court, shaded by an apricot-tree, where the priest, an old man in a green robe and white turban, was seated in medita- tion. He had a long grey beard, and black eyes, that lighted up with a sudden expression of eager greed when we promised him backsheesh for a sight of the sacred book. He arose and took us into a sort of chapel, followed by a number of Samari- tan boys. Kneeling down at a niche, in the wall, he produced from behind a wooden case a piece of ragged parchment, writ- ten with Hebrew characters. But the guide was familiar with this deception, and rated him so soundly that, after a little hesitation, he laid the fragment away, and produced a large tin cylinder, covered with a piece of green satin embroidered in gold. The boys stooped down and reverently kissed the blazoned cover, before it was removed. The cylinder, sliding open by two rows of hinges, opened at the same time the parchment scroll, which was rolled at both ends. Jt was, indeed, a very ancient manuscript, and in remar'table preserva- tion. The rents have been carefully repaired and the scoll A SCENE IN THE SYNAGOGUE. 9ft neatly stitched upon another piece of parchment, covered on the outside with violet satin. The priest informed me that it was written by the son of Aaron ; but this does not coincide with the fact that tlie Samaritan Pentateuch is different from tliat of the Jews. It is, however, no doubt one of the oldest parchment records in the world, and thf Samaritans look upon it with unbounded faith and reverence. The Pentate'uch, according to their version, contains their only form of religion. They reject everything else which the Old Testament contains. Three or four days ago was their grand feast of sacrifice, when they made a burnt offering of a lamb, on the top of Mount Gerizim. Within a short time, it is said they have shown some curiosity to become acquainted with the New Testament, and the High Priest sent to Jerusalem to procure Arable copies. I asked one of the wild-eyed boys whetlier he could read the sacred book. " Oh, yes," said tlie priest, " all these boys can read it ;" and the one I addressed immediately pulled a volume from his breast, and commenced reading in fluent Hebrew. It appeared to be a part of their church service, for both the priest and hoab, or door-keeper, kept up a running series of responses, and occasionally the whole crowd sJiouted out some deep-mouthed word in chorus. The old man leaned forward with an expression as fixed and intense as if the text had become incarnate iu him, following with his lips the sound of the boy's voice. It was a strange picture of religious enthu- siasm, and was of itself sufficient to convince me of the legiti- macy of the Samaritan's descent. When I rose to leave I ^,aTe liim the promised fee, and a smaller one to the boy who read the service. This was the signal for a general attack from the Jj6 the lands of the SARACEN. door-keeper and all the boys who were present. The; sur- rounded me with eyes sparkling with the desire of gain, kissed thq border of my jacket, stroked my beard coaxingly with their hands, which they then kissed, and, crowding up with a bois terous show of aiTection, were about to fall on my neck in a heap, after the old Hebrew fashion. The priest, clamorous for more, followed with glowing face, and the whole group had a riotous and bacchanalian character, which I should never have imagined could spring from such a passion as avarice. On returning to our camp, we found Mentor and Telemachns arrived, but not on such friendly terras as their Greek proto- types. We were kept awake for a long time that night I)j their high words, and the first sound I heard the next morning came from their tent. Telemaehus, I suspect, had found some island of Calypso, and did not relish the cold shock of the plunge into the sea, by which Mentor had forced him away. He insisted on returning to Jerusalem, but as Mentor would not allow him a horse, he had not the courage to try it on foot. After a series of altercations, in which he took a pistol to shoot the dragoman, and applied very profane terms to every body in the company, his wrath dissolved into tears, and when we left. Mentor had decided to rest a day at Nablous, and let him recover from the effects of the storm. We rode down the beautiful valley, taking the road to Sebaste (Samaria), while our luggage-mules kept directly ovei the mountains to Jenin. Our path at first followed the course of the stream, between turfy banks and through luxuriant orchards. The whole country we overlooked was planted with olive-trees, and, except the very summits of the mountains, oovered with grain-fields. For iwo hours our course was THE RUINS OF SAMARIA. 91 north-east, leading over the hills, and now and then dipping iutn beautiful dells. In one of these a large stream gushes I'roru the earth in a full fountain, at the foot of a great olive-tree. The hill-side above it was a complete mass of foliage, crowned with the white walls of a Syrian village. Descending the val- ley, which is very deep, we came in sight of Samaria, situated on the ' summit of an isolnted hill. The sanctuary of the ancient Christian church of St. John towers high above the mud walls of the modern village. Riding between olive- orchards and wheat-fields of glorious richness and beauty, we passed the remains of an acqueduct, and ascended the hill The ruins of the church occupy the eastern summit. Part of them have been converted into a mosque, which the Christian foot is not allowed to profane. The church, which is in the Byzantine style, is "apparently of the time of the Crusaders. It had originally a central and two side-aisles, covered with groined Gothic vaults. The sanctuary is semi-circular, with a row of small arches, supported by double pillars. The church rests on the foundations of some much more ancient building — probably a temple belonging to the Roman city. ' Behind the modern village, the hill terminates in a long, fliptical mound, about one-third of a mile in length. We made the tour of it, and were surprised at finding a large number of columns, each of a single piece of marble. They had once formed a double colonnade, extending from the church to a gate on the western side of the summit. Our nail ye guide said they had been covered with an arch, and constituted a long market or bazaar — a supposition in which he may be correct. From the gate, which is still distinctly marked, we ovcrltfoked several deep valleys to the west, and 5 98 THE LANDS Of THE SAKACEN. over them all, the bine horizon of the Mediterranean, south ol Caesarea. On the northern side of the hill there are upwards of twenty more pillars standing, besides a number hurled down, and the remains of a quadrangular colonnade, on the side of the hill below. The total number of pillars on the summit cannot be less than one hundred, from twelve to eighteen feet in height. The hill is strewn, even to its base, with large hewn blocks and fragments of sculptured stone. The present name of the city was given to it by Herod, and it must have been at that time a most stately and beautiful place. We descended to a valley on the east, climbed a long ascent, and after crossing the broad shoulder of a mountain beyond, saw below us a landscape even more magnificent than that of Nablous. It was a great winding valley, its bottom rolling in waves of wheat and barley, while every hill-side, np to the bare rock, was mantled with groves of olive. The very summits which looked into this garden of Israel, were greeu with fragrant plants — wild thyme and sage, giiaphalium and camomile. Away to the west was the sea, and in the north* west the mouhtain chain of Oarmel. We went down to the gardens and pasture-land, and stopped to rest at the Village of Geba, which bangs on the side of the mountain. A spring of whitish but delicious water gushed out of the soil, in the midst of a fig orchard. The women passed us, going back and forth with tall water-jars on their heads. Some herd-boyi brought down a flock of black goats, and they were all given drink in a large wooden bowl. They were beautiful animals, frith thick curved horns, white eyes, and ears a foot long. It Was a truly Biblica,l picture in every feature. .'»»«I.RSTINE AND , CALIFORNIA. - 99 ;t Beyond this valley We ipassed a circular basin, which has no outlet, so that in winter the bottom of it must be a lake. After winding among the hills an hour more, we came out upon the town of Jeniu, a Turkish village, with a tail white minaret, at the head of the great plain of Esdraelon. It is supposed to be the ancient Jezreel, whei*e the termagant Jezebel was thrown out of the. window. We pitched our tent in a garden near the town, under a beautiful mulberry tree, and, as the place is in very bad repute, engaged a man to keep guard at night. An English family was robbed there two or three weeks ago. Our guard did his duty well, pacing, back and forth, and occasionally grounding his musket to keep up. his courage by the sound. In the evening, Frangois caught a vi:hameleoii, a droll-looking little creature, which changed color in a marvellous manner. ' Our road, next day, lay 'directly across the Plain of lEsdrae- Ion, one of the richest districts in the world. It is now a green sea, covered with fields of wheat and barley, or great -grazing tracts, on which multitudes of sheep and goats are wandering. In some respects it reminded me of the Valley of San Jose, and if I were to liken Palestine to any other country I have seen, it would be California. The climate and succession of the seasons are the same, the soil is very similar in quality, and the. landscapes present the same general features. Here, in spring, the plains are covered with that deluge of floral bloom, which makes California seem a paradise. Here there are the same picturesque groves, the same rank fields of wild oats clothing the mountain-sides, the same aromatic herbs impregnating the air with balm, and above all, the same blue, cloudless days and dewless nights. While 100 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN. travelling here, I am constantly reminded of our new Syria on tbe Pacific. Towards noon, Mount Tabor separated itself from the chain of hills before ns, and stood out singly, at the oxtremity of the plain. We watered our horses at a spring in a swamp, were some women were collected, beating with sticks the rashes they had gathered to make mats. After reaching the moun- tains on the northern side of the plain, an ascent of an hour and arhalf, through a narrow glen, brought us to Nazareth, which is situated in a cul-de-sac, under the highest peaks of the range. As we were passing a rocky part of the road, Mr. Harrison's horse fell with him and severely injured his leg. We were fortunately near our destination, and on reach- the Latin Convent, Fra Joachim, to whose surgical abilities the traveller's book bore witness, took him in charge. Many others besides ourselves have had reason to be thankful for the good offices of the Latin monks in Palestine. I have never met with a class more kind, cordial, and genial. All the convents arc bound to take in and entertain all applicants — of whatever creed or nation — ^for the space of three days. In the afternoon, Fra Joachim accompanied me to the Church of the Virgin, which is inclosed within the walls of the convent. It is built over the supposed site of the house in which the mother of Christ was living, at the time of the angelic annunciation. Under the high altar, a flight of steps leads down to the shrine of the Virgin, on the threshold of the house, where the Angel Gabriel's foot rested, as he stood, witli a lily in his hand, announcing the miraculous conception. The shrine, of white marble and gold, gleaming in the light of golden lamps, stands under a rough arch of the natural rodt| THE SHRINE OF THE ANNUNCIATION, 101 from the side of which hangs a heavy fragment of a granite pillar, suspended, as the devout believe, by divine power. Fra Joachim informed me that, when the Moslems attempted to obliterate all tokens of the holy place, this pillar was preserved by a miracle, that the locality might not be lost to the Chris- tians. At the same time, he said, the angels of God carried away the wooden house which stood at the entrance of the grotto ; and, after letting it drop in Marseilles, while they rested, picked it up again and set it down in Loretto, where it still remains. As he said this, there was such entire, absolute belief in the good monk's eyes, and such happiness in that belief, that not for ten times the gold on the shrine would I Lave expressed a doubt of the story. He then bade me kneel, that I might see the spot where the angel stood, and devoutly repeated a paternoster while I contemplated the pure plate of snowy marble, ' surrounded with vases of fragrant flowers, between which hung cressets of gold, wherein perfumed oils were burning. All the decorations of the place conveyed the idea of transcendent purity and sweetness ; and, for the first time in Palestine, I wished for perfect faith in the spot. Behind the shrine, there are two or three chambers in the rock, which served as habitations for the family of the Virgin. A young Christian Nazarene afterwards conducted me to the House of Joseph, the Carpenter, which is now inclosed in a little chapel. It is merely a fragment of wall, undoubtedly as old as the time of Christ, and I felt willing to consider it a genuine relie. There was an honest roughness about the large stones, inclosing a small room called the carpenter's shop, which I could not find it in my heart to doubt. Besides, in a quiet country ''.own like Nazareth, which has never knowc ; 102 THK LANDS OF THE SARAOEIT. , ; snch vicissitudes as Jerusdem, much more depeiiden