Byeways in Palestine. James Finn
his tent being placed at the west end of the line, and his spear at its entrance. Here took place the formality of returning his visit to us yesterday; and here, after coffee and pipes, our presents were produced and given. The travellers were collected in a very long black tent, together with Dëâb, his son and friends. A screen at one end divided us from the women’s apartment, i.e., what would be the Hhareem in houses of towns; behind this curtain the women were peeping, chattering, and laughing; of course we might expect this to be about the extraordinary-looking strangers. It has been conjectured that such a separation of the tent is implied in Gen. xviii. 6 and 10, when “Sarah heard it in the tent-door which was behind him;” but this has no foundation in the plain narrative of Scripture, only in the Arabic translation the words seem to imply that understanding.
The presentation of offerings was a grave and solemn affair. Each donor produced his tribute with an apology for the insignificance of the gift, which was then exhibited in silence by an attendant to the populace of the tribe crowding outside.
The ceremony was concluded by shouts of welcome, and a huge meal of pilaff (rice and mutton upon a great tray of tinned copper) and léban, (curdled milk,) with more smoking. Here we took leave of the chief, who sent on a detachment of his tribe to escort us for the rest of our expedition.
Remounted, and proceeded N.E. by N.; hitherto we had come due north from Heshbon. Passed a hill called Jehâarah, and in a short time reached the source of the river of Ammon, rising out of the ground, with a large pavement of masonry near it. A numerous flock of sheep and goats were being watered at the spring, it being near the time of As’r—i.e., mid-afternoon.
Here the antiquities of Ammân commenced; and remains of considerable buildings continually solicited our attention, as we passed on for quarter of an hour more to our tents, which we found already pitched and waiting for us among a crowd of ancient temples and baths and porticoes—in a forum between a line of eight large Corinthian columns and the small river; in front too of a Roman theatre in good condition. Some of the party, who were familiar with the ruins of Rome and Athens, exclaimed aloud, “What would the modern Romans give to have so much to show as this, within a similar space!”
This was Saturday afternoon; and we had already resolved to spend our Sabbath in this wonderful and agreeable place, so remarkable in Scripture history, and so seldom visited by Europeans.
I climbed up the seats of the theatre, and rested near the top, enjoying the grand spectacle of luxurious architecture around; then descended, and walked along its proscenium; but neither reciting passages of Euripides nor of Terence, as some enthusiasts might indulge themselves in doing, before an imagined audience of tetrarchs, centurions, or legionaries, or other
“Romanos rerum dominos, gentemque togatam.”
Close to this theatre was a covered and sumptuous building, which I could not but suppose to be a naumachia, from its having rising rows of seats around the central space, with a channel leading into this from the river. As the shadows of evening lengthened, the heat of the day was moderated, and I sauntered along the bank of the stream till I came to a large headless statue of a female figure lying in the water. Some men lifted it upon the green bank for me; but it was far too heavy to be transported to Jerusalem for the Literary Society’s Museum.
The swift-flowing rivulet abounded in fish, some of which the Arabs killed for us, either by throwing stones or shooting them with bullets, having no other means of getting at them; but the latter of these methods was too costly to be often adopted. However, we had some fish for dinner in “Rabbah, the city of waters.” This stream is the commencement of the Zerka, which we were to meet afterwards, after its course hence N.E. and then N.W.
I feasted a dozen Arabs at my tent-door. Shaikh ’Abdul ’Azeez laughed when I remarked that this place was better worth seeing than Heshbon, and said, “This is a king’s city. It was the city of King Ghedayûs; and Jerash, which is still more splendid, was built by Sheddâd, of the primitive race of the Beni ’Ad.” Beyond this, of course, it was impossible for him to imagine anything in matters of antiquity.
In my evening’s Scripture reading, I was much struck with the opening of the 65th Psalm: “Praise waiteth for Thee, O God, in Zion,”—which passes over all the examples of human achievement elsewhere, in order to celebrate the peculiar and undying honours of Jerusalem. So now the Grecian and the Roman colonies, who erected the marvels of architecture around me, are gone; while the Jewish people, the Hebrew language, the city of Jerusalem, and the Bible revelations of mercy from God to man, continue for ever. But most particularly does this psalm, taken with the circumstances there before our eyes, point out the difference made between Ammon and Israel, and the reason for it, as predicted in Ezek. xxv., 1–7:—“The word of the Lord came again unto me, saying, Son of man, set thy face against the Ammonites, and prophesy against them; and say unto the Ammonites, Hear the word of the Lord God: Thus saith the Lord God; Because thou saidst, Aha, against my sanctuary, when it was profaned; and against the land of Israel, when it was desolate; and against the house of Judah, when they went into captivity; behold, therefore I will deliver thee to the men of the east for a possession, and they shall set their palaces in thee, and make their dwellings in thee: they shall eat thy fruit, and they shall drink thy milk. And I will make Rabbah a stable for camels, and the Ammonites a couching-place for flocks; and ye shall know that I am the Lord. For thus saith the Lord God; Because thou hast clapped thine hands, and stamped with the feet, and rejoiced in heart with all thy despite against the land of Israel; behold, therefore I will stretch out mine hand upon thee, and will deliver thee for a spoil to the heathen; and I will cut thee off from the people, and I will cause thee to perish out of the countries: I will destroy thee; and thou shalt know that I am the Lord.”
Sunday, 13th.—Dew on the grass; but it was the morning dew, which, like human goodness, was soon exhaled.
After meditating on the chapters in Numbers and Deuteronomy which refer to the conduct and destinies of Ammon and Moab, and reading Jer. xlviii. and xlix. within “the flowing valley” of the 4th verse of the latter, I was summoned to divine service in a tent fitted up for the purpose—carpets on the floor “honoris causâ;” a table covered with simple white, and a serious congregation of Englishmen before it, each with his own Bible and prayer-book. Thank God that to carry such books about in the wildest deserts is a characteristic of my countrymen!
This city of ’Ammân is “the city in the midst of the river” of Joshua xiii. 9; and “Rabbah of the children of Ammon”—the royal city—“the city of waters” of 2 Sam. xii. 26, 27:—to the siege of which Joab invited King David, “lest he should take it, and it should be called after his name.” Here was also deposited the huge iron bedstead of Og, king of Bashan.
Under the Ptolemy dynasty—successors of Alexander—it was rebuilt, with the name of Philadelphia. Several of the best edifices here, now partially ruined, belong to that period.
Under the Crusaders it was a flourishing city and district, retaining the Grecian name.
I could not but reflect on the infinite prescience that dictated the prophecies of the Bible—no tongue could speak more plainly to us than the scene around us did, the fulfilment of the denunciations that these cities of Moab and Ammon should remain as cities “without inhabitants”—“not a man to dwell therein”—and “driven out every man, right forth, and none shall gather up him that wandereth”—“desolate” and “most desolate.”
In the afternoon we walked about to inspect the antiquities, and found several remains of Christian churches with bell-towers attached to them—certainly not originally minarets. These edifices had been afterwards, in Mohammedan times, converted into mosques, as evidenced by the niche made in the south wall of each, pointing to Mecca; and there are watch-towers for signals on all the summits of hills around. The city lies nestled in a valley between these hills.
The first building I examined was among those of the citadel placed upon a lofty eminence commanding the city, the ground-plan of which building is here shown—