CHAPTER XI
Ride to Jerash—Magnificent ruins—Circassian colonists—History—Preservation of buildings—East of Jordan—Sûf—A moonlight scene—Down to the Jabbok.
JERASH, GATEWAY
Our Bozrah guide was first in the saddle, and, starting out along the valley, he led the way towards Jerash; from this point, however, his office was a sinecure, the road being well marked. We followed the winding path through wooded vale and over wooded hill until we reached a height overlooking rich, cultivated flats, to which we descended by a rocky track, leaving for a time the woodland behind us. Here we found a road on which some labour had been expended, passing between fields partly surrounded by stone walls.
Going forward, we met a cart of antique shape, drawn by a team of oxen, guided by a sturdy Circassian, who was seated in front. The cart was long, narrow, and deep; the axles were wide, and the wheels low. It resembled those still to be seen in many country districts on the continent of Europe. The type may have been introduced into this country by the German colonists. These carts are the only wheeled vehicles used as yet by agriculturists in Palestine, of whom, next to the Germans, the Circassians are perhaps the most successful. We spoke to the driver, but received for reply only a bow, and sundry gestures by which he manifestly sought to make himself agreeable, from which it could also be inferred that he knew no Arabic. Our way led round the left shoulder of a little hill, and down a gentle incline, when, suddenly, almost the whole extent of the ruins on the southern bank of the stream came into view. Men and animals were gladdened by the cheerful sound of flowing water. Just where the road turns sharply to the right towards the ancient city gate, we struck an irrigation channel, full of clear, cool water. After a general scramble for the refreshing liquid, in which riders and horses seemed to mingle indiscriminately, spectacles, etc., being dropped into the stream and duly fished up again, we assumed a more dignified attitude, and prepared to enter the city. On the height to the right were several empty sarcophagi and burial caverns. We traversed the whole length of the city on the northern side of the valley, and pitched our tents under the cliffs just outside the boundary, beyond a copious fountain, over which remains of Greek buildings are still standing. It was yet early afternoon, and most of us were at once drawn forth to see the splendid ruins.
Jerash, or, as it was anciently called, Gerasa, stands in Wady ed-Deir, on either side of a perennial stream which flows into the Jabbok a few miles to the south, and one of the sources of which is the fountain above mentioned, at the north-west corner of the city. All the principal buildings of which anything noteworthy remains are on the southern bank of the brook. The ground rises quickly from the bed of the stream, some fifty to a hundred feet, and then slopes gradually backward. Upon this higher part, almost all the magnificence of the old city was gathered. From north-west to south-east runs the famous street, paved throughout, and lined on either side its whole length with fine columns, many of which are standing, capitals and architrave being in parts almost perfect still.
Of Jerash we may say generally, it is the best preserved of all the ruined cities east of Jordan. The ruins are weather-worn and beaten with the storms of centuries; earthquakes have shaken down many once splendid buildings, but there were no traces of the destroying hand of man. The Circassians have now supplied this lack. One fears that much of value and interest has already perished under their hammers, as they sought materials to build their houses. This points the urgent necessity to have the ruins thoroughly explored, and measures taken at once to secure what is worth preserving. Passing along the street from the north-west, we first saw a small theatre to the right, now sadly ruined. A little farther forward, on the same side, stands what must have been by far the finest building of all, as it still is the most imposing ruin. This is known as the Temple of the Sun. Situated on an elevated terrace, it is approached by a broad stairway, which leads to the portico. This consists of three rows of columns of magnificent proportions and artistic workmanship. Originally fourteen in number, the greater part are still in position. Of the principal building, the area is now blocked up with fallen stones. The temple stands in the middle of a court, once surrounded by a colonnade, and measures some eighty feet by seventy. The position commands a fine view of the city. In the near neighbourhood to the south and west are traces of columns, arches, etc., which may have belonged to smaller temples. There are also remains of a church. But all are so buried beneath their own ruins that it is impossible now to speak of them with certainty. On the other side of the road are remains of baths and of a basilica. The pillared street terminates in a circular area surrounded by columns, of which nearly all are standing; many still supporting pieces of the architrave.
JERASH, TEMPLE OF THE SUN
Beyond this, on rising ground, close to the ancient city wall, are the ruins of a large theatre and temple. The rows of stone seats in the former are well preserved. The slopes in front are literally heaped with great stones and pieces of colossal columns, while the amount of building underground seems almost equal to what is seen above. The acoustics of these theatres are perfect. Once, with some friends, I made trial of that at Gadara; the lowest articulate sounds were audible throughout the entire building. A little to the east of the temple, a road leads off directly to the south, passing under a triumphal arch, dating, probably, from the time of Trajan. To the west of the road, just inside the triumphal arch, lay the Naumachia (for mock sea-fights), without which these cities would seem to have been incomplete. Westward, outside the city wall, are great numbers of sarcophagi. This, apparently, was the chief ancient burying-ground. Nowhere, not even at Gadara where these are numerous, have I seen so many stony receptacles of the dead lying exposed. All have been opened long ago, many of the lids being broken, no doubt, in the feverish search for hidden treasure.
Turning back, we walked the whole length of the street, noting the remains of a tetrapylon near the southern end, and of another not far from the northern end, in each case traces of the ruined arches being distinguishable. The ancient gateway to the north is blocked up, but a passage is cut through the great mound of stones which once formed the wall; and along this a considerable volume of water, caught in the higher reaches of the valley and led captive hither, passes, to turn the picturesque old mill below. Above the city, on the southern bank of the stream, are numbers of sarcophagi, many of them adorned with sculptured wreaths, roses, and heads in relief. There are traces of what must have been a large and fine building, with broken columns and sculptured stones. Several mutilated Greek inscriptions are to be seen among the ruins. In the cliffs north-east of the stream, above the spot where our camp was pitched, are several large natural caverns, which do not seem to have been used for any other purpose than the sheltering of flocks. Beyond the city wall, to the north-east, however, are many sepulchral caves, some of those visited being hewn out of the living rock.
The northern bank of the stream is now occupied by a colony of Circassians, whose neatly-built and plastered houses, each with a walled court in front, contrast most favourably with those of any of the native peasants in Palestinian villages. The houses were built for the most part of ordinary materials, very few of the sculptured stones from the ancient city being employed. This may be accounted for by the fact that few public buildings of any importance stood on this side of the stream. Since then these settlers have gone farther afield, to the peril, as we have seen, of what lends Jerash its attractions for us. Entering the town from the north, we find the fountain arched over, from which the main supply of the colony is obtained; beautiful, clear, cool water it is. In the lower ground to the right are vestiges of a temple, around which the colonists have fine gardens. Turning up to the left, for a long distance the city wall is almost intact. Within the wall, to the south-east, are prostrate columns and sculptured stones, marking the site of a building of no little splendour, but whether palace or temple, it is impossible to say.
Outside the wall are scanty remains which may indicate the position of an ancient church. Judging by the magnificence of many of the sarcophagi found here, this may have been the burying-ground of the greater ones. Just below, by the wayside, at the entrance to the modern village, lies the Circassian graveyard. The graves are of the ordinary Moslem type—little mounds with a protuberance at each end, supposed resting-places for the angels. Here, however, the Circassians seem to expend but little care. The whole place was overgrown with rank grass, nettles, and thistles. The stream which divides ancient from modern Jerash is lined with oleanders, whose luxuriant growth in many places quite hides the rippling waters. Just where it passes beyond the boundary of the town it plunges in foamy streaks over a high cliff into a romantic ravine, whence issues the music of a water-mill.
Of the Circassians who now occupy the place, we learned that only some six years before they had come hither. The Turk, finding it hard to control these brave, free-spirited people among their native mountains, has been carrying out gradually the policy of expatriation, adopted wholesale by ancient conquerors in these regions. Removed from the associations of childhood and the inspiring memories that haunt the scenes around them in their highland homes, required to work hard for the mere necessities of life, their rulers hope to make docile subjects out of these once turbulent clans. Colonies are scattered over all Syria and Palestine. One large village is occupied by them on the heights between Tiberias and Tabor. Old Kuneitera, in the Jaulân, is awakening to new life at their touch. In their agricultural enterprises they are protected by their reputation for absolute fearlessness, unwavering resolution in avenging an injury, and skill in the handling of their weapons. Roving Bedawy and robber peasant alike stand in wholesome dread of their keen blade and unerring bullet. They can thus reckon with certainty on reaping what they have sown, and enjoying the fruits of their labours. They scruple not, therefore, to put hard work into the soil. Gathering the stones from the surface, they form walls along the boundaries of their fields. Their implements, although antiquated, are yet an improvement on those employed by the ordinary fellahîn. The qualities that protect them from thief and robber also secure them in great measure against the unjust exactions of a corrupt Government, and guarantee them entire immunity from outrage at the hands of the soldiery, to which the miserable peasants have so often to submit.
Of the history of Jerash but little is known. Josephus places it in the Decapolis, and in his day it must have been a city of some importance. It was one of the chief cities in the Roman province of Arabia. In the days of Bozrah’s splendour, Jerash must also have been a wealthy commercial centre, Arabian and Egyptian caravans probably passing this way to the north. Baldwin II., in 1121, is said to have marched against Jerash, but already in the thirteenth century the city is described as deserted. Why, we cannot tell.
JERASH, STREET OF COLUMNS
To the west of Jordan there are very few ancient sites where remains of any consequence are to be seen. The few half-buried pillars of Herod’s colonnade at Samaria and the ruined synagogue at Tell Hûm are about the most important, outside the discoveries made in Jerusalem. The most famous sites are marked only by pottery-strewn heaps, or stretches of shapeless ruins. These are insignificant when compared with the massive walls and stately columns with artistic adornments that meet one everywhere on the east of Jordan. The west, more open to influences from without, has suffered heavily under the many changes it has experienced. Ancient structures were carried off bodily to form new buildings of a more temporary character. These soon perished, the old materials being thus scattered or buried under the debris and dirt. Several causes have contributed to the better preservation of the cities east of Jordan. The land has been much more secluded from foreign influence, and, since the days of the Mohammedan conquest, can hardly be said to have been in contact with the outside world at all. The inhabitants, being chiefly dwellers in tents, have had no occasion to employ ancient materials for the building of houses. The peasants who do occupy stone houses have usually found all the shelter they required in the durable structures of basalt, which are so numerous, ready to their hands. A company, moving to village or town, simply swung back the stone doors, opened the stone shutters, swept out the rooms, and took possession, finding thus much finer houses than they could have constructed for themselves. If they did require to build, the smaller stones of the ruins around served their purposes admirably, and the remains of the larger buildings, spared through centuries by storm and earthquake, secured immunity from attack.
Sûf, reputed Mizpah, the famous meeting-place of Jacob and Laban, where he fled with his wives, children, and possessions, lies only about an hour to the north-west of Jerash. On the occasion of a second visit to the district, I passed through this village. It stands on the south-west lip of the wady, which here is of considerable depth. The houses are of the common type, built of white limestone and mud. It is inhabited by Moslems. When I saw it, a large weather-worn, goats’-hair tent was pitched in the middle of the village, where the youth of Sûf assembled to learn verses of the Korʾân from the lips of the Khatîb—probably the only man in the village who knew how to read and write. The numerous dolmens in the vicinity point back to a very high antiquity.
On the same occasion I enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of seeing the beautiful ruins of Jerash under the mellow beams of the moon. It was a sight never to be forgotten. The kindly light, hiding all that was defective, seemed to reveal only what was fair, throwing its delicate splendours over tall column and massive wall, until the ancient city seemed to stand before us in all its ancient magnificence; and one could almost imagine, through the quiet night, the echoing footfall of the Roman guard along the pillared street.
JERASH, GENERAL VIEW
Our road lay through the triumphal arch and down Wady ed-Deir to the Jabbok. Just on the point of starting we were treated to another entertainment by our friend the cook. From this point southward he was quite familiar with the country, but he feigned first ignorance and then fear, in order to secure a convoy from Jerash. For sake of peace and pleasantness we had almost yielded to his importunity, but the man he brought forward was so exorbitant in his demands, doubtless instructed by the cook, that he received unceremonious dismissal. The road could not be hard to find in any case, so we set out, leaving the knight of the toasting-fork to follow at his leisure. Soon he thought better of it, and took his place again at the head of the procession. In the lower reaches of the valley we saw further evidence of Circassian industry, in the rich crops that waved by the wayside. A short distance east of our route lies a small village, which takes its name from the saint whose tomb stands there—Neby Hûd, renowned in ancient Arab story.
We took the more easterly of two possible roads—the longer, but also the easier for the animals. The greater variety and beauty of the scenery repay the extra travel. The descent into the Jabbok valley winds down a narrow ravine, turning sharply round jutting crags, and, in parts, almost precipitous. Oaks and thorns clung to the steeps; luxuriant vegetation covered the ground. The fertile soil of the valley supported a fine crop of wheat. The line of the river could be traced by a winding glory of oleander bloom, overtopped by tall, gracefully-bending papyrus reeds, whose heavy heads swayed in the breeze. Reaching the “brook,” we found the bed more than half dry, but even thus the water took the horses above the saddle-girths. With a short struggle, we all landed safely on the other side. During the winter months this must be a perfectly impassable torrent.
On the farther bank we sat to rest and lunch. The horses too refreshed themselves before facing the steep mountain in front. We gathered bunches of papyrus heads—an operation requiring both care and skill, as we found the undergrowth bound together with trailing brambles, furnished with the sharpest of prickles. Two square towers stand one at each end of the meadow in which we halted. They have not the appearance of great antiquity. There is no entrance to their interior, and their use we were unable to discover.
Climbing the mountains south of the Jabbok, or Zerka—“the blue” river, as it is now called—was the hardest work our horses had to face. The track was narrow, and the foothold often extremely precarious, especially over rocky parts where a slip would have meant a fall of hundreds of feet. What a tremendous gorge that Jabbok is! It literally cleaves the country in twain.
GORGE OF THE JABBOK
Now we were within the borders of the modern province of el-Belkâ, of which es-Salt is the principal—indeed, the only—city. This lies in the land of the ancient Ammonites. These cool, breezy uplands, beautifully diversified with wooded knoll and pleasant vale, in which may be heard the murmur of flowing water most of the year, offer a rich return to the hand of the enterprising and diligent cultivator. But whence is he to come? Numerous are the flocks and herds that browse on the grassy slopes, find shelter in the shady woods, and drink from the oleander-fringed streams in the vales. But no one who sees it can for a moment suppose that this rich soil is designed simply for the support of sheep and oxen. Those who hope for the return of Israel to the land of their fathers should turn their eyes rather to this rich and empty land than to the more populous and less kindly country west of Jordan.