To achieve this we must go in state, and the main thing was to enlarge our retinue, which consisted at present of the somewhat ragged Khalil, by the addition of a soldier, who would receive orders to make all the demands which were in accordance with our dignity—a fact not patent to the naked eye, but which the mudir instructed by our kind friend the American Consul, would doubtless accept. First we had to find the mudir, who was not at his own house, a fine modern building with large garden adorned with antique busts, and not at the serai (court-house), but who was finally discovered making his afternoon devotions at the mosque. He was good enough to emerge with a train of attendants, a dignified man of middle age, carefully read the letter addressed to him, and assured us, in passable French, that our request should receive attention, and that the soldier would be at our service at six o'clock next morning.
We were then free to visit the sites which were the main object of our journey to Besan. The name Besan, which we now associate with the most beautiful city in Palestine, had for us at first no associations, and we did not feel any great excitement even when told that it was a strong and walled city in the time of Joshua, that the inhabitants had chariots of iron, which might well be used on the surrounding plain, nor even that it was to the wall of Beth-shean, as it was then called, that the bodies of Saul and his three sons were nailed, his armour being hung up as an offering in the temple of Astarte. But as we pursued our inquiries, the story of the city gained in interest. Thothmes III. must have passed through it when he overthrew one hundred and eighteen cities in Palestine, as it stands on the highway between Egypt and Damascus; it is mentioned in Egyptian literature in the fourteenth century B.C.; the Israelites found it impregnable; Holofernes, Pompey, Salah ed-din, occupied it, possibly also Tiglath-pileser and Sargon. Josephus calls it the richest city of the Decapolis, the only one west of the Jordan. In his time it was called Scythopolis, and it is one of the very few examples of reversion from the Greek to the older name. On the coins (Nero to Gordian), and by classical authors, the town is called Nysa, and the effigy on the coin is that of the nymph suckling Bacchus; but the present name, corrupted from Beth-Sha'an, possibly the house (beit) of some pagan divinity, has been used since the Crusades.
Lastly, for the Christian, Besan has its special interest, as having been one of the places where, under Decius and Diocletian, the amphitheatres were used for the cruel slaughter not of wild beasts alone, but of the confessors of Christ. When we stood gazing at the majestic amphitheatre, with its twelve basalt benches for spectators, nearly two hundred feet in diameter, we imagined the Christian gladiator looking over the sea of heads which surrounded him to where the blue sky, and the blue hills of Gilead, gave promise of something which should endure when even yonder citadel, frowning to the north, had crumbled in decay. Delicate ferns and flowers now shroud the entrance to the dark passages leading to the dens, where one may still see the iron rings to which the beasts were chained; and in the recesses in which brass sounding-tubes facilitated the hearing of the roar of anger and the shriek of pain, swallows are darting in and out to chirping nestlings, impatient for their food.
We failed to find the hippodrome, said to lie west of the village, but now concealed by vegetation. The lines of a fine colonnade are easily traced, leading along the brook to an ancient bridge, beyond which is a street, and near by a massive fort; north of this a reservoir, known as El Hammâm, obviously the site of Roman baths. Everywhere are columns, capitals, hewn stones. North of the great amphitheatre a Tell cries out for excavation, the massive wall and the great portal which once enclosed its summit being clearly traceable. Everywhere, in the hills beyond, are tombs, many with fine painting and sculpture. Where can the archæologist find richer promise? There is, happily, a rumour that it is one of the many sites likely to be taken in hand by German skill and perseverance. The very fact that Besan is, at least for the present, well out of the tourist track has preserved the ancient, perhaps also the modern, city, from exploitation. Unfortunately, the railroad will soon be here, and who knows how long this beautiful city may escape all the influences which have corrupted and vulgarised Jerusalem?
Besan is at present purely Moslem: there are a few Christian inhabitants, mainly of the Greek Church, who seek occasional spiritual pabulum in Tiberias, only eight hours away, and who seem to enjoy equal rights with, and even to share some of the beliefs of, their neighbours. We saw, for example, a very interesting wely, which, like so many, if not most, in Syria, is resorted to by those of all creeds. It was, as usual, very difficult to obtain any exact information as to its history and origin. The tomb, apparently of a giant of ten feet or so, is a massive stone structure enclosed with a rough stone wall and surrounded by trees. The derwish in charge lives close by. The tomb and enclosure are decorated with numerous small flags, mainly white, the offerings of the faithful. We managed—not without difficulty—to photograph it secretly, both from within and without. We could only ascertain that it was sacred to a certain Bishop Jochanan, who, although our informants were somewhat confused as to details, seems to have been an apostate from Christianity, and a miracle-worker. The wely serves purposes other than religious. It is much resorted to for the healing of the sick and for obtaining special boons; but it is also supplementary to the serai, and saves many a lawsuit, as an oath made upon the tomb must be accepted as final, and he would be a very foolhardy man who would lie to the saint, whatever might be the degree of his reverence for the Almighty! Every Moslem tomb (exclusive, naturally, of those of women, who are a mere accident in the course of nature) is surmounted by two stones, for the accommodation of the good and bad angels respectively, who testify as to his conduct; one at least of these is of the shape of the fez or tarbush, which was the characteristic sign of faith and nationality during life. In the present case this feature is exaggerated in proportion to the size of the tomb, so that the whole roughly resembles the outline of a horse, the tarbush being taken for the head. The suspected culprit, or other person about to swear, sits astride, and makes oath accordingly. The saint is, moreover, the peacemaker in feuds, and the most persistent cases of blood-revenge must be abandoned when the opponents have shaken hands across the tomb. A man who here denies or confesses a crime receives judgment accordingly, without further evidence. There seemed to be traces upon the doorposts of recent sacrifices, with the usual accompaniment of anointing with blood.
Perhaps nothing that we saw upon our ride surprised us more than the information that a large and handsome stone house in the town belonged to a Bedawy shech—a shech of shechs. One would have supposed that such a possession violated every instinct and tradition of his race, for we had once been present when an elderly Bedu, who had been forced by politeness to accept hospitality in a house for the first time, had sat in terror of what might happen, gun in hand. We sought in vain to account for such an anomaly. "Is he very rich?" we inquired, on the hypothesis that some crisis of agricultural depression had driven him to a more permanent investment. "Rich?" said our informant; "he can be as rich as he likes. Is he not the shech above all other shechs of the district? He wants a house, a camel, a tent? He takes it. He wants a wife—he may have had already twenty-nine. He takes my sister, my daughter, but he does not pay for her. It is not difficult for him to be rich."
Nay, truly,
"The good old rule
Sufficeth him, the simple plan,