To return to our travels in 1890. We left Port Said on a Russian boat on the afternoon of March 19th and reached Jaffa early the following morning and Jerusalem the same evening. It was very thrilling, and I am always glad that we were there before the days of railways. The whole place was pervaded with Russian pilgrims, many of whom arrived on our boat. Jerusalem has inspired painters, scribes, and poets for hundreds of years, so I will only mention one or two of the scenes which struck us most.
Naturally the Church of the Holy Sepulchre made a deep impression upon us. The Sepulchre may or may not have been the original tomb in which our Lord was laid, but it has been consecrated by the vows and prayers of countless generations, thousands have shed their blood to win that spot from the infidel, and if warring Churches have built their chapels around it at least they cluster under the same roof and bow to the same Lord. The then Anglican Bishop, Dr. Blyth, took us over the church. We entered by the Chapel of the Angels into the little chapel or shrine containing the Sepulchre. There indeed it was impossible to forget the divisions of Christendom, as the altar over the Holy Tomb was divided into two portions, one decorated with images to suit the Latins, the other with a picture to meet the views of the Orthodox Church. Other chapels of the Roman and various Eastern Churches surround the Sanctuary, the finest being that of the Greeks, who seemed when we were there to exercise the chief authority over the whole building. The Greek Patriarch was a great friend of Bishop Blyth, and had allowed one or two English and American clergymen to celebrate in Abraham’s Chapel, a curious little chapel in an upper part of the mass of buildings included in the church. Near it was the bush in which the ram substituted for Isaac was supposed to have been caught.
Comprised in the church building are the steps up to Calvary, the place of the Crucifixion, and the cleft made by the earthquake in the rock.
The Church of the Nativity at Bethlehem is also very interesting. The Grotto, said to be on the site of the Stable, is under the church and the place of our Lord’s Birth is marked by a silver star let into the pavement. Beyond are caves formerly inhabited by St. Jerome, dark places in which to have translated the Bible. As usual there are chapels for the different sects, and blackened marks on the wall of a cave showed where they set it on fire in one of their quarrels. While we were in the church a procession passed from the Latin Chapel to the Grotto, and a Turkish soldier was standing with a fixed bayonet opposite the Armenian Chapel to keep the peace as it went by. The Armenians had been forced to fold a corner of the carpet before their altar slanting instead of square, that the Latin processions might have no pretext for treading on it. I suppose Indian Mohammedans are now enlisted as ecclesiastical police, unless indeed the warring Churches trust to the impartiality of English Tommies.
INN OF THE GOOD SAMARITAN
From Jerusalem we had a delightful excursion to Jericho. A carriage road over the mountain pass was in course of construction, but we had to ride horses as it was not yet ready for vehicles. On the way we passed the usual Russian pilgrims with their greasy ringlets, plodding on foot, but the most interesting party was one we saw at the Khan or Inn at the top of the pass. This Inn was no doubt on the site of that where the Good Samaritan left the traveller whom he had treated as a neighbour. Even if our Lord was only relating a parable, not an historic incident, this must have been the Inn which He had in mind, as it is the one natural stopping-place for travellers between Jerusalem and Jericho. While we were seated in the courtyard resting awhile in the open-air in preference to the primitive room within, there rode in a group exactly like the pictures of the Flight into Egypt—a man leading a donkey or mule (I forget which) on which was seated a woman carrying a baby, evidently taking it to baptize in Jordan. “The Madonna and Child,” exclaimed Lady Galloway, and we felt thrilled to see a living Bible picture before our eyes.
As to falling among thieves, we had been assured that there was every chance of our doing so unless we paid the Sheikh of an Arab tribe to accompany us as escort. This was a simple and generally accepted form of blackmail. The plundering Arabs agreed among themselves that any tourist giving a fixed sum to one of their leaders should be guaranteed against the unwelcome attentions of the rest. As a special tribute to “Lord Salisbury’s sister,” we were also provided with a Turkish soldier, but I doubt his utility. Anyhow the Arab was more picturesque and probably a more effectual guardian.
We had also with us our dragoman Nicholas, whom we had brought on from Egypt. I do not think that he knew much about Palestine, but he was always ready with an answer, and generally asserted that any spot we asked for was “just round the corner” of the nearest hill. I maliciously asked for Mount Carmel, knowing that it was far to the north. With a wave of his hand he declared, “Just round there.” When we reached the bituminous desert land surrounding the Dead Sea I gravely asked for Lot’s wife. “Lot’s wife?” said Nicholas, hopelessly perplexed. “Don’t you know, Nicholas?” said Lady Galloway. “She was turned into a pillar of salt.” “Oh yes,” he replied pointing to the nearest salt-like hillock, “there she is.” No doubt if he ever took later travellers to those parts they had the benefit of our identification.
We stopped for luncheon at Jericho, and having inspected the strange land surrounding the Dead Sea, we went on to the Jordan, a small, rapid river flowing among alders and rushes. There we washed our rings and bracelets and then returned to the Jordan Hotel at Jericho, a solitary building kept by a Hungarian, very comfortable in a simple way—though possessing a perfect farmyard of noisy animals. As is well known the Dead Sea lies over 1,300 feet below the level of the Mediterranean and the Jordan discharges its water into it, without any outlet on the other side. Hence evaporation leaves all the saline deposits of the river in this inland Sea and causes its weird dead appearance and the heavy, forbidding nature of its waters.
THE HOLY CITY