Chapter IV EVANGELISTIC TRIPS
It was a practice with us for many years to arrange a special evangelistic medical trip in the spring of the year. Sometimes Mrs. Nelson and I would join Dr. Harris in a journey of two or three weeks, and sometimes the doctor and I would go alone. One of the most memorable of these journeys was in the spring of 1893, in the month of May. We had our tent and camp outfit and the large chests of medical supplies carried on mules and were accompanied by our cook, with his portable kitchen packed away under him, and the Syrian assistant of the doctor, so that we made quite a party altogether. We started along the shore north from Tripoli, making our first camp about ten miles out of the city. The next day's journey brought us to Tartoose on the shore opposite the island of Arvad. Ezek. 27:8. This island lies only a short distance from the shore, but I have never yet been able to reach it because of the violent west wind on each occasion of a visit to Tartoose. The island is wholly covered by the town, which is occupied by sturdy sailors and fishermen. There are many interesting relics of ancient times in Tartoose, though it is possible that many of the coins offered to the credulous public may have been produced recently in the place itself.
LATAKIA BOYS' SCHOOL
TARTOOSE
Crusaders' Church
At the edge of the town stands a fine Gothic church, whose substantial walls and graceful arches are a pleasure to the eye. The empty windows make one feel lonesome as he approaches the building, and the bare interior speaks of a decadent Christianity that adds to the sadness. But, worst of all, is the minaret crudely built on the corner of the roof, for this is another of the many Christian churches in Turkey which have been transformed into mosques.
At another of our camping places we found, near at hand, an old Roman amphitheater, where it was not difficult to imagine a concourse of pleasure seekers seated on the stone benches watching some exhibition of strength or skill in the arena below. Wherever one goes in Syria, he is reminded of an ancient glory and power, in close and vivid contrast to a present state of decay and weakness.
Our first Sabbath, on this journey, found us at Latakia, where we spent the day with our neighbors and fellow workers of the Reformed Presbyterian mission. This mission was started especially to reach the Nusairiyeh people of north Syria. Because of the persistent interference of the Turkish Government, their work has been greatly hampered and their efforts largely restricted to the training of boys and girls in the boarding institutions in the city, and ministration to the sick in the hospital. It was a great pleasure to have this break in our journey and the pleasant intercourse with those engaged in the same kind of service as our own, and to have the privilege of speaking to the young people in their schools.
On Monday we went a short distance from the city, pitching our tent near a village of considerable size on the plain some miles back from the sea. As I sat in the moonlight at the door of the tent, a man wearing the white turban of a Moslem scholar approached me. He seated himself near me after a pleasant greeting and we fell into agreeable conversation. After some time, this man took the opportunity, when no one was near enough to overhear him, to ask most earnestly that we should send them a teacher for their children. I was surprised at the request from such a source and turned the conversation so as to make sure that he understood who we were and what kind of schools we conducted. He showed that he understood the matter fully, and that he really desired a Protestant Christian teacher for his town. I then asked him directly, "Are you not a Moslem?" Looking about again, to make sure no one should hear him, he said, "Yes, I am a Moslem now," with an emphasis on the last word which revealed the facts in the case. He was of a Nusairiyeh family but had yielded to the persistent pressure of the government so far as to accept the form of adherence to Islam, though in his heart he hated the system and its followers most cordially.
A long day's ride brought us through the wild and tortuous valley of the Nahr-ul-Kandil, up the slope of Mount Cassius to the town of Kessab, some four thousand feet above the sea, where the Latakia missionaries have their summer homes. It was a most beautiful though rugged ride, and would have been thoroughly enjoyable in good weather. The wild flowers were in full bloom, and every turn in the road brought into view a new combination of varied and bright colors, where the little blossoms clustered amid the green foliage, among the gray rocks. The great drawback to our enjoyment lay in the fact that for a large part of the distance we rode in a heavy and most unexpected rainfall. We were not prepared for such an experience in the month of May, and so reached our destination soaked and cold. We had been directed to take possession of one of the cottages belonging to the missionaries in Latakia, and it was certainly a most welcome haven. We were able to light a fire in the kitchen stove and spread out our wet garments to dry, while we warmed ourselves in the grateful heat.
It was a disappointment the next day that the top of Cassius was enveloped in heavy cloud, forbidding an ascent. This mountain is about five thousand feet in height, rising directly from the sea, and so is a conspicuous object from every direction and gives an extensive view from its summit. We could tarry but one day, and descended to the old site of Seleucia, at the mouth of the Orontes, and saw some remnants of the old harbor from which Paul set sail more than once. The Orontes is quite wide and deep near its mouth and we crossed it on just such a wire ferry as I had seen many years before on the Connecticut River in Massachusetts. The gardens of Swadia were most refreshing with their green verdure, cool shade and rich fruit, after a long day's ride in the heat, and again we had the pleasure of missionary fellowship, for our friends of the Reformed Presbyterian mission have a station here also. Another easy stage brought us to old Antioch, so closely associated with the beginning of Christian history. It is not an attractive city in outward appearance and has suffered much at different times from earthquake.
From Antioch we followed the Orontes Valley up to Hamath, where we were once more among our own organized stations. Such journeys give us an acquaintance with the country and the people, which is of the most vital importance in planning for the proper expansion of the work.
Once, on a pleasant summer evening, we were encamped near a Nusairiyeh village. Among those gathered about us were an elderly peasant and his son, a well-built, sturdy youth of seventeen or eighteen years. As he sat before us this young man appeared to be in perfect health and vigor, but when he rose to walk, his awkward gait revealed his misfortune, for both feet were so badly deformed that he walked on his ankles and not on the soles of his feet. The doctor was asked whether this defect could be remedied. After a careful examination the lad was told that the operation would be painful, and that some time would be required, but that if he would come to the hospital, prepared to stay as long as should be necessary, he would be able to come away, walking erect, like other people. The faces brightened at once, and we shared in their pleasure at the prospect of this deliverance. The next morning, however, we were told that the family had talked over the matter and decided not to have the operation performed. We assured them there should be no expense, but they said it was not the matter of expense. Then we told them of similar cases which had been successfully treated, but they assured us they had no doubt of the doctor's skill. We encouraged the young man to bear the pain for the sake of increased enjoyment in life afterwards, but he said he was not afraid of the pain. What then was the trouble? At last we learned the truth. So long as the lad could show two such clubbed feet, he would be excused from military service; but if they were made straight he would be called to the army; and he would rather go through life a cripple than to give several years of his vigor to service in the Turkish army. And he is no exception.
We were approaching a large town of bigoted people, wondering how we should secure an opening for our message. I was riding slightly in front of the doctor, occupied with plans for securing access to the people. Suddenly I heard the doctor's voice behind me saying, "Boy, do you want your eye straightened?" On looking back I saw a lad of about fifteen years, with a decidedly crossed eye, beside the doctor's horse. He promptly accepted the offer, and we hastened to dismount and tie our horses. A table in the little roadside café was quickly cleared, while the doctor got out his case of instruments from his saddlebags. The boy was placed on the table and in an incredibly short time the cords were severed so that the eyeball took its proper position, and we were thoroughly advertised. By the time our camp equipage came up, we had been provided with an excellent place to camp, and had nothing to complain of in the reception of the people.
A memorable experience was in the neighborhood of a large village whose gardens are said to be watered by three hundred springs. Whatever the correct number may be, there is no question about the abundance of water and the luxuriance of the gardens. We had three tents, one for medical clinics and one apiece for our two households, and settled down for a fortnight's work. Every day we had crowds about the tent for medical attention and for religious services. The evenings gave abundant opportunity for work among those who gathered about us after their day's work was done. They were glad to join in the hymns of praise, and listened earnestly to the spoken message and read word. One evening, the boys who gathered about the tent told me that the superintendent of their school was in town and had begun an examination, to be finished the next day. I decided to go to the school the next morning to make the acquaintance of the superintendent and to see what the school was doing. When I arose the following day, I found many of the boys about the tent, and asked them why they were not at school for the examination. "Oh," they said, "there is no examination to-day. Early this morning, the superintendent, the teachers and the headman of the village took their horses, a large bottle of spirits and a young kid, and went up to the top of the mountain to a famous spring to spend the day in a drinking spree."
One of the pleasantest evenings I remember in my regular routine touring was spent in this same village. We had brought our party to a garden, owned by one of our friends who was always glad to have us make it our headquarters. We had eaten our supper and were seated on the ground, under a high, branching tree into which was trained a huge grapevine. Behind us was a little hut, in which the caretaker slept in stormy weather. At one side was a rude booth where the owner slept during the summer. An oil lantern gave some light. One by one quite a group of neighbors and friends assembled and, after some general conversation, we sang some hymns. Then I opened the Bible for a little reading, with simple exposition. As I read and talked to them, the row of dark faces was turned toward me with an intentness and eagerness to hear that made me hope they might not see me or hear my words, but hear those words of life spoken so many years ago in Palestine, and see that Face from which alone shines the true light.
We are not always left to do as we please on these trips, for the paternal Turkish Government sometimes takes an unnecessary interest in our plans and shows an excessive concern for our safety. We had crossed a rugged section of the mountains and come down to a walled town, which is a government center. Here we camped near the town and were promptly favored with a call from officials, sent by the governor to find out who we were. We paid a formal call on his Excellency and were allowed to remain quietly as long as we desired. When we broke camp a polite message came from the governor, asking where we were going and offering a guard and escort. We returned a grateful acknowledgment of his courtesy, but assured him that we were familiar with the roads and would not trouble him to send an escort. It was only after some difficulty that we succeeded in getting away alone. We learned afterwards that we were followed, and that, in accordance with instructions from headquarters, word was sent from place to place to keep watch of us. At one large town we had large crowds about our camp and large audiences for evening services for several days, when suddenly there was a change and no one came near us. Apparently the sick were all healed and all interest in singing and conversation had ceased. It developed that word had been sent to the nearest government center, and orders had come back at once, not to interfere with our comfort but to notify the people to have nothing to do with us. At one of these places, which were all occupied by Nusairiyeh and Ismaeliyeh people, Mrs. Nelson was talking with some of the women about religion. They said, "Do Christian women have any religion?" When assured that we believe religion to be for everyone, whether male or female, rich or poor, wise or ignorant, they replied: "It is not so with us. A woman with us can have no share in religion. If one of us should accidentally overhear the men talking about religious beliefs, so that she unintentionally learned some religious doctrine, she ought to acknowledge it and be put to death. And it is right to be so, for a woman must know nothing of religion."
On another occasion, quite a party of us stopped to spend the night in one of these towns. While I was busy with arrangements for the night other members of the party went to look about the little castle at the edge of the town. Our presence was reported to the acting governor. Unfortunately he was a man of surly disposition and anxious to magnify his office. He demanded our Turkish passports, which he had a technical right to do. Unfortunately some of the party had failed to provide themselves with these documents as they were seldom called for. It gave our little governor a chance and he used it, insisting that he must send us to Hamath, practically under guard, but nominally under military protection. We were intending to go to Hamath, but not directly, and so it was finally agreed that the horseman go with us to Mahardeh where we were to lodge, and accompany us the following day to Hamath. When we started out the next morning, it was ludicrous to see the haughty airs of this soldier who was sent with us. He acted as if he really believed these foreigners were committed to his absolute control and carried his head very high. Before going many miles we had succeeded, by pleasant conversation, in limbering him up considerably, and by noon, when we stopped for luncheon, he displayed his power in our behalf by ordering the villagers to serve us in every way possible. By evening, when we entered Mahardeh, he was quite cringing in his servility, for now he realized that he was alone and we were among friends, so it was worth while to be genial and submissive. When I informed him that I was not going with the party the next day, he claimed to be greatly terrified and begged me most humbly not to subject him to such peril. "For," said he, "the number of foreigners is mentioned in the governor's letter, and if I do not produce the full number, I shall be held responsible." I said, "Be that as it may, I must stay here over Sunday and on Monday morning I will follow and report myself to his Excellency if necessary." He went away, apparently in much uncertainty. I knew, however, that the matter was a mere formality and would bring no risk either to him or to me; and so it proved, for the governor took no interest in the matter at all.
On a warm summer evening, Dr. Harris and I rode up to the sheik's house in a village I have never visited before or since. As strangers we were welcomed to the public room. It was soon discovered that a doctor was present, and immediately all who were diseased came about us. It was a marvel to see men lie down before this stranger with perfect confidence and allow him to cut about their eyes or put drops in them. It does happen, alas, too often, that this credulity costs them dear, for many an eye has been ruined by conscienceless quacks who trade on the simplicity of the people. It is a pleasure, however, to see them place themselves in the hands of the skillful and honest missionary physician, who will help them, if possible, or tell them truthfully if there is no remedy. At sunset a large dish of wheat, boiled with some meat, was brought out, and cakes of barley bread placed about it. All who were present were bidden to partake, and we did the best we could to satisfy our hunger. After a social evening we spread our beds and made ready for sleep, if possible. As I lay on my bed, I could hear those who sat about discussing us. They told of the doctor's famous skill and what he had done there before them. I was glad to find that I held the humble position of doctor's assistant in their estimation. But I could not help wondering then and since about that village. So far as I know that is the only missionary visit ever made there. Is it enough?
ALEPPO MINARET