Byeways in Palestine. James Finn
to the people.
There are ancient remains about the town, but not considerable in any respect. It is often taken for granted that this is the Ramoth-Gilead of Scripture, but I believe without any other reason than that, from the copious springs of water, there must always have been an important city there. The old name, however, would rather lead us north-eastwards to the hills of Jela’ad, where there are also springs and ruins.
On leaving the town we experienced a good deal of annoyance from the Moslem population, one of whom stole a gun from a gentleman of the party, and when detected, for a long time refused to give it up. Of course, in the end it was returned; but I was told afterwards that the people had a notion that we ought to pay them something for visiting their town, just as we pay the wild Arabs for visiting Jerash. What a difference from the time of the strong Egyptian Government when Lord Lindsay was there!
At a distance of perhaps half or three-quarters of an hour there is a Weli called Nebi Osha; that is to say, a sepulchre, or commemorative station of the Prophet Joshua, celebrated all over the country for the exceeding magnificence of the prospect it commands in every direction. In order to reach this, we had to pass over hills and plains newly taken into cultivation for vineyards, mile after mile, in order to supply a recent call for the peculiar grapes of the district at Jerusalem to be sent to London as raisins.
Arrived at the Weli, we found no language sufficient to express the astonishment elicited by the view before us; and here it will be safest only to indicate the salient points of the extensive landscape, without indulging in the use of epithets vainly striving to portray our feelings. We were looking over the Ghôr, with the Jordan sparkling in the sunshine upon its winding course below. In direct front was Nabloos, lying between Ebal and Gerizim; while at the same time we could distinguish Neby Samwil near Jerusalem, the Mount Tabor, Mount Carmel, and part of the Lebanon all at once! On our own side of Jordan we saw the extensive remains of Kala’at Rubbâd, and ruins of a town called Maisĕra. On such a spot what could we do but lie in the shade of the whitewashed Weli, under gigantic oak-trees, and gaze and ponder and wish in silence—ay, and pray and praise too—looking back through the vista of thirty-three centuries to the time of the longing of Moses, the “man of God,” expressed in these words “O Lord God, Thou hast begun to show Thy servant Thy greatness and Thy mighty hand: … I pray Thee let me go over and see the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon.” The honoured leader of His people—the long-tried man “through good report and evil report,” who, during his second forty years which he spent as a shepherd in Midian, had been accustomed to the abstemious habits and keen eyesight of the desert; and, at the end of another forty years as the ruler of a whole nation, living in the desert, “his eye was not dim,”—added to which natural advantage, we are told that “the Lord showed him all the land,” highly cultivated as it was then by seven nations greater and mightier than Israel—Moses must have beheld a spectacle from Pisgah and Nebo, surpassing even the glories of this landscape viewed by us from Nebi Osha.
Turning eastwards to our evening home, we passed a ruined site called Berga’an, where we had one more view of the Dead Sea, and traversed large plains of ripe corn, belonging, of course, to the people of Es-Salt. The people requested me to pray to God that the locusts might not come there, since all that harvest was destined for Jerusalem.
We met some of the ’Abbâd Kattaleen Arabs, but we were safe under the escort of the Saltîyeh instead of the ’Adwân. These ’Abbâd are the people who assaulted and plundered some seamen of H.M.S. “Spartan” in 1847, on the Jordan; for which offence they have never yet been chastised, notwithstanding the urgent applications made to the Turkish Pashas of Jerusalem, Bayroot, and Damascus. We did not arrive at the encampment till long after dark, and there was no moonlight.
The site is on a plain encircled by hills, with plenty of water intersecting the ground; the small streams are bordered by reeds and long grass. A khan, now in ruin, is situated in the midst—a locality certainly deserving its name, Beka’ el Bashà, and is said to have been a favourite camping-station for the Pashas of Damascus in former times.
Much to our vexation, the Arabs and the muleteers had pitched our tents in a slovenly manner among the winding water-courses, so that we had wet reeds, thistles, and long grass, beetles and grasshoppers inside the tents, which again were wetted outside with heavy dew. They had done this in order to keep the cattle immediately close to us, and therefore as free from forayers as possible during the night. Such was the reason assigned, and we were all too hungry and tired to argue the matter further.
My people complained to me of the insolence of the Saltîyeh guides that were with us; so I sent for the two shaikhs and scolded them. They persisted in it that they did not deserve the rebuke, that the complaints ought to be laid against a certain farrier who had come over from Jerusalem, etc., etc. My servant ended the affair by shouting at them, “Take my last word with you and feed upon it—‘God send you a strong government.’ ” This at least they deserved, for they are often in arms against the Turkish government: and although so prosperous in trade and agriculture, are many years in arrear with their taxes.
Tuesday, 15th.—Early in the morning there were Saltîyeh people reaping harvest near us, chiefly in the Christian fields; for here the case is not as in Palestine, where Christians generally sow and reap in partnership with Moslems, for their own safety; but the Moslems have their fields, and the Christians have theirs apart, which shows that their influence is more considerable here; indeed, the Christians carry arms, and go out to war against the Bedaween, quite like the Moslems.
Before we left, the day was becoming exceedingly hot, and we had six hours’ march before us to Jerash.
The hills abound with springs of water. We passed one called Umm el ’Egher, another called Safoot, also Abu Mus-hhaf, and Tâbakra, and ’Ain Umm ed Dumaneer, with a ruin named Khirbet Saleekhi.
The ’Adwân Arabs were now again our guides, the Saltîyeh having returned home; but for some distance the guides were few and without firearms, only armed with spears, and the common peasant sword called khanjar; perhaps this was by compact with the Saltîyeh, as in about an hour’s time we were joined by a reinforcement with a few matchlock guns. On we went through corn-fields, which are sown in joint partnership with the Arabs and the Moslems of the town; then doubled round a long and high hill with a ruin on it, called Jela’ad. This I have since suspected to be Ramoth-Gilead. We descended a hill called Tallooz; forward again between hills and rocks, and neglected evergreen woods, upon narrow paths. A numerous caravan we were, with a hundred animals of burden, bright costumes, and cheerful conversation, till we reached a large terebinth-tree under a hill called Shebail; the site is called Thuggeret el Moghâfer, signifying a “look-out station” between two tribes. There we rested a while, till the above-mentioned reinforcement joined us. From this spot we could just discern Jerash, on the summit of a huge hill before us.
We now had one long and continued descent to the river Zerka. Passed through a defile, on issuing from which we observed a little stream with oleander, in pink blossom, thirty feet high, and in great abundance. Halted again at a pretty spring, called Rumân, where the water was upon nearly a dead level, and therefore scarcely moving; then another small spring, called Bursa, and also ’Ain el Merubb’a’.
Evergreen oak in all directions, but with broader leaf than in Palestine; also some terebinth-trees and wild holly-oaks. All the scenery now expanded before us in width and height and depth.
We took notice of several high hills with groves of evergreen oak on their summits; detached hills, which we could not but consider as remains of the ancient high places for idolatrous worship.
Still descended, till on a sudden turn of the road came the rushing of the Zerka, or Jabbok, water upon our ears, with a breeze sighing among juniper-bushes, and enormous and gorgeous oleanders, together with the soft zephyr feeling from the stream upon our heated faces—oh, so inexpressibly delicious! I was the first to get across, and on reaching the opposite bank we all dismounted, to drink freely from the river—a name which it deserves as at that place it is about two-thirds