In a Syrian Saddle

by A. Goodrich-Freer

These Circassians have an interesting history. In spite of all that is said of "the unspeakable Turk," perhaps few rulers have so many varieties of voluntary immigrants within their domains. The Circassians of East Jordanland seem to have first left their home in the Caucasus, Kamnimotsk, or Kakupschi, about the year 1860, and to have wandered in search of a home where they might be privileged to live under Moslem rule. Their leader, the Emir Nūh Bey, a major in the Russian army, conducted them first into Asia Minor, and finally, after many difficulties and disappointments, about 1878, to this district, which they call "the edge of the desert"—possibly with some personal intention on the part of their leader, who, as his son, 'Abd el hamīd Bey, informed Dr Schumacher, was descended from a family named Hûsh or Hûshi, who came originally from Ramleh (by some identified with Arimathea) in the plain of Sharon, and fought against the Crusaders. Their crest, which they bear upon their weapons, and which, in the Caucasus, they branded upon their cattle, was a mace. The same, with the addition of the letters alef within the head of the mace, was also branded upon their slaves. These Hûshi travelled from Jerusalem into Anatolia, and thence into the Caucasus, and now, as it would seem, were, after the lapse of centuries, on the way back to the cradle of their race. They arrived in the Jaulân, the district which, with the Belka, they have since colonised, about 1880, and in less than a quarter of a century have changed the face of the district which they inhabit. They are frugal and industrious, and have some knowledge of agriculture. Unfortunately, their industry has, in one respect, been misdirected, and they are the acknowledged purveyors of tree trunks for roofing and other architectural purposes, which they convey all over the district in two-wheeled carts drawn by a team of oxen. As the wheels are guiltless of grease, as roads, as we understand them, are practically unknown, and the loads heavy, the approach of these vehicles is known half-a-mile in advance. The melancholy result of their timber trade is that the surrounding hillsides have, within the last twenty years, been almost denuded of their oaks and pines. It is some slight mitigation, however, that the Circassians plant as well as destroy, and promising fruit gardens follow the banks of the stream, especially at Jerash, but also at Ammân and elsewhere.

In many respects they are very different from the Arabs: in their industry, their settled homes, their power of initiation, their habits. They have superior agricultural instruments; they do not look upon the camel and the ass as the sole possible means of transportation; but, alone in Syria, until the recent establishment of Jewish and German colonies, employ carts, those for lighter purposes being made of wattles. They preserve their national dress, and neither the tarbush of the Arab of the towns, nor the aba or mantle, common to all, have ever been adopted. Many speak Turkish fluently, the elder ones some Russian, most a little Arabic with a bad accent, but their ordinary tongue continues to be Circassian. The Turkish Government has permitted them to repopulate various ruinous towns—Nawa, Ammân, Jerash, and various villages—for a given period, without paying any taxes, and, in spite of certain incidents of attack and reprisal between themselves and the Bedu, fierce enough for the time, they have succeeded in inspiring their neighbours with respect or, perhaps, awe. They themselves, it is said, are perfectly fearless in attack or defence, and extremely severe in exaction of vengeance. Whereas the fellahin fear to attract attention by successful crops of fruit or grain, lest they should be called upon to feed the Bedu and the tax-gatherer, the Circassians fear no one, and at present pay no taxes. Hence, as well as from superior capacity and industry, they effect, as no fellah may venture to do, improvements of a kind which are permanent; they make walls and roads, they devise systems of irrigation, they plant hedges and trees.

In Ammân, as we came to know later, their industry had very unfortunate effects upon the glorious ruins which adorn the hills on either side: the basilica has wholly disappeared, and one apse of the thermæ; but the Muchtar, who may, perhaps, be likened to the mayor of the town, has forbidden further depredations, and, happily, the new population has not chosen to establish itself among the ruins.

We had made no arrangements for our accommodation in Ammân—a visit which had not been included in the original programme. However, we had been assured there was a "locanda"—it is curious how many Italian words have been accepted into Arabic—and as we had not yet lunched we made our way thither without loss of time. It was in the hands of Christians, and, from the point of view of domestic arrangements, Christianity is not a success among Arabs; and, without entering into details, it suffices to say that life can now hold no mysteries for us in the matter of inns, nor, it may be added, of domestic entomology.

Its full horrors were not revealed until we went inside, and, in our circumstances, to go indoors while we could remain without would have shown a singular lack of imagination and of the spirit of psychological inquiry. There were two courts, an inner and an outer, and those who had investigated certain obvious details decided at once upon the outer, and, accordingly, chairs were arranged round a deal table under a vast apricot-tree—our eight horses, with several other horses and donkeys, being under a neighbouring apricot-tree. We then collected our saddle-bags, and spread our luncheon, after which we drank coffee for the good of the house.

By-and-by a very smart young officer, speaking French and German—educated at a military academy in Austria—came to call upon the Professor, and again we all had coffee. He came as the representative of the officials of the railway line. We were interested in the fact that, unlike most other Arabs of our acquaintance, he did not smoke, and said that he came of a family of non-smokers.

His visit finished, we went off to see the ruins, which lie on the hills on either side of a stream, which we crossed on stepping-stones, though it is said to be not fordable, even on horseback, in the winter. Burckhardt, who was here in 1810, speaks of the elaborate arrangements made for the benefit of this water-supply, a rare natural gift in the Belka. Not only the banks, but the bed of the river was paved, in the manner we had seen ourselves at Ba'albek and elsewhere; and the water was full of fish, probably the chub, which still exist here, and in the Jabbok and Arnon, though ignored by the Arabs, who do not care for fish, and who when they do kill them, with a view of selling them to Europeans, pursue the wasteful and unsportsmanlike method of a discharge of gunpowder!

The most impressive of the ruins, perhaps because the least interfered with by modern buildings, is the theatre. The stage has been destroyed, but some forty tiers of seats still remain visible, as well as about twenty-four boxes, each capable of holding a dozen persons—traces in all of places for some 3000 spectators. Voices on the stage are still distinctly heard on the farthest tier, although the acoustic properties have probably suffered from the removal of parts of the building. A fine colonnade, of which several Corinthian columns, 15 feet high, still remain, stood in front of the building, leading to the river on the one hand and to a small odeum on the other. Burckhardt was at a loss to conjecture the nature of the latter building, of which much more existed then than now: the roof had fallen in, and made entrance difficult, but the wall of the semicircular area was, he says, richly decorated, The theatre is built into the side of the hill in such a way that the third tier of boxes is excavated in the solid rock.

On the opposite side the ruins are more numerous, but less impressive. A mosque, said to be of the time of the Abbasides (eighth century), stands almost side by side with a Byzantine church; and a little to the north-east are the remains of thermæ, which received water by means of a conduit from the river. A street of columns on the left bank of the stream, and parallel with it, indicates the direction of the high street of the town, nearly a thousand yards long; while north of this stood a forum (by some thought to be a temple) of a late Roman date. The town was evidently walled, and the street of columns was closed by gates towards the east. We heard of many tombs, sarcophagi, and remains of dwellings worth seeing behind the town, but we had little enough time to look at even what was of primary interest. We were, however, thanks to Circassian civilisation, more fortunate than Burckhardt, whose guides forsook him, alarmed by the sight of fresh horse-dung near the ruins, and fearful of falling into the hands of the Bedu. When reproached, they replied that they did not see why they should expose themselves to the danger of being stripped and robbed of their horses, because of his foolish caprice of writing down the stones!

Burckhardt was not the first visitor. He had been preceded by Seetzen in 1805-6, who, however, left very little record of his travels in Haurân and the Belka.