And then, when we reached the top, was there ever such a rock garden as extends for miles along the summit of Carmel, the mountain which travellers abuse, and for which guide-books apologise? Did ever a January sky shine over a more marvellous wealth of beauty and of promise? Rocks of limestone and hornstone; a general effect of greenness, kept fresh at all times of the year owing to the neighbourhood of the sea and the constant dews; scattered shade of sapling oaks, of carobs, hawthorns, elders, Guelder-roses, pomegranates, acacias, almonds now laden with bloom, arbutus, and tamarisks; an undergrowth of azalea, genista, rock-rose, juniper, a tangle of the glorious clematis cirrhosa, with its delicate greenish blossom; myrtles, and "the slender galingale"; ferns in every shady nook—the felis-mas, asplenium-trichomanes, the scented fern; cheilanthes-fragrans, the waving maiden-hair—a feast of colour and sweetness; cyclamen, crimson, pink, and white; hyacinths, blue; chrysanthemums, golden; mandrakes, royal purple; periwinkle, sapphire; anemone coronaria, scarlet, purple, pink, white; the stately narcissus and sweet jonquils; crocuses, golden, purple, and white. And then the promise! How we longed to wait a week or two, as we watched the strong green swords of the bulbous and tuberous plants preparing to defend their coming treasure; the irises, great and small; the gladioli, the squills, the star of Bethlehem, the hyacinths, the arums, the orchises. Soon, too, there would be adonis, red and yellow; scarlet ranunculus, chrysanthemums, and later, asphodels, lupins, scented stocks, lychnis, geraniums of many kinds, centaureas, valerian and a hundred other blooms, which had sent no word of their coming, and at which we could only guess. To catalogue only seems a sort of profanation.
"I touch,
But cannot praise; I love too much."
There, for the first time, we saw the beautiful little sun-bird, although it is said to be common in the Jericho district. To the uninstructed it is a humming-bird, although one is assured that they exist only in the New World. It is little over four inches long, radiantly attired in purple, green, and blue, with brilliant orange tufts upon his shoulders, a wonderful metallic sheen over all, and a long, curved bill. The little lady who accompanies him, though far more humbly dressed, is also dainty and fascinating in brown shot with green. Another tiny bird which gave us much delight was the long-tailed wren, drymæca gracilis, which runs up tamarisk-trees like a tit, with a little fan spread open behind it.
The scene gave a new meaning to familiar words: "The desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom abundantly: the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon." The flowers of Lebanon and Sharon are also a joy and delight to the beauty-loving eye, but to our fancy the excellency of Carmel is supreme. The mountain at its highest point is less than two thousand feet, but, rising sheer from the sea, is more imposing than many mountains of greater elevation. The entire length of the range does not exceed fifteen miles; but as only two villages, occupied mainly by Druses and Greek Catholics, occur to break its solitude, wild beasts—jackals, hyænas, wild boars, and even occasional panthers—are still more or less in possession, although the cultivation of vines for the famous Haifa vintage, has carried civilisation and humanity to a considerable distance.
Of course, we visited the convent, with all its hospitalities and its interesting historical associations: its memories of pious anchorites, of their union, in the fifth century, with one of the earliest religious orders; of the Benedictines who, early in the ninth century, built the Church of St Margaret; of St Louis; of massacres which laid desolate the convent; of the church turned into a mosque; and finally of the restoration of the order, with permission to rebuild. The monastery was used as a hospital when Napoleon besieged Acre, and the wounded, murdered by the Turks, lie under a small pyramid in the convent garden. Destroyed once more by the Pasha of Acre in 1821, the buildings have been again restored on a scale to accommodate the large pilgrimages which come every year from Europe. Even more humble pilgrims, natives or Hindoos—for "the grotto of Elijah" and the "school of the prophets" are venerated also by Moslems—are not forgotten, and a special building is provided for them at the base of the lighthouse, which is under the care of the monastery. It is said that an Italian, Brother Giovanni of Frascati, is the real author of the reconstruction of the Carmelite prosperity, for, sent by the general of the order to inquire into the condition of things, he found only wrecked walls, and, as sole survivor of the order, a single brother, who had taken refuge in Haifa. A firman was obtained from Constantinople, and the two brothers devoted themselves to the collection of funds, with such results that in 1827, six years after its destruction, a new foundation stone was laid by Giovanni himself. Liberal gifts must have followed, for, though severe in style, the buildings are very spacious and solid, and include a good library, very handsome church, oratory, and chapter-house.
A small chamber, little more than a cave, said to have been the habitation of the three poor Carmelites who inaugurated the return of the order in 1636, has been recently converted into a chapel dedicated to St Simon Stock, the Kentishman who was general of the order in Palestine in 1245.
We lingered to see the sunset clouds gather above the Mediterranean, and then rode over the top of the ridge, and so back to the town, almost grudging to go indoors as the stars sprang out and the red roofs and green palms and olives of the German village faded away into greys and purples. After dinner we had the privilege of examining Dr Schumacher's precious little museum at the American consulate, and of seeing the map of his survey of the East Jordanland, the first that has yet been completed.
[3] Curtiss, op. cit. Chap. xiv.