A small village, occupied by Arabs, is the only modern representative of the ancient Jericho. The houses are formed of stone walls, built up loosely without mortar; the roofs flat and covered with brush and gravel; the yards and wretched patches of gardens are enclosed by windows constructed of the bows of thorns; the walls of the village, to protect its shiftless inhabitants from the raids of the Bedouins, are made of the same material. In riding through this disgustingly filthy town, we were lustily cheered by some dozen dirty, half-naked children, collected for this purpose, but more particularly for backsheesh (money). Sheep, children, goats, women and men, all indiscriminately huddled together, and no doubt this people deserved the profligate character given them, i. e., similar to that of Sodom and Gomorrah.
In the evening, some twenty Bedouins appeared in our camp, equipped and prepared to amuse us by their accomplishments in music and dancing, for the purpose of laying claims to our backsheesh. We considered it policy to accept the offer; accordingly we took seats before our tents. They posted themselves in a standing line immediately fronting us, each having a short sword girded under a ragged mantle, all scantily and shabbily clad, making rather a primitive appearance. They commenced their singular manocuvres by dodging forward and back, at the same moment clapping their hands, accompanied with rapid stepping of the feet and a strange chant, occasionally making a whizzing, thrilling whoop, the like of which was never heard but from the throat of a Bedouin, their chief standing in front, twirling and flourishing a naked sword in the faces of his comrades, keeping time with their fantastic motions, steppings, chantings and whoopings, occasionally turning suddenly, making the whole exceedingly impressive by flourishing the naked blade close to our faces. The drift of their songs, we were told, was highly flattering to the ladies and complimentary to the gentlemen—the former for their extraordinary beauty, the latter for their anticipated liberality in bestowing backsheesh. We took the hint, and recollecting several robberies and murders which had occurred in the vicinity, we paid them for this wretched entertainment, constantly adding more, until we excited their admiration. We retired to our tents, reflecting on the strange difference between the present occupants of this locality and those who inhabited it when Prophets converted bitter springs into sweet fountains, and smote impetuous streams, piling up their waters on either side, and walked through on dry ground.
The following morning, after breakfasting and drinking the sweet waters of the Fountain of Elisha, we left the Plains of Jericho, and ascended into a wild, rocky, mountainous region, our path lying along the brink of the most sublime ravine of Palestine. It is many hundred feet deep, where but little else is seen than precipices of naked rocks, containing here and there a grotto seemingly inaccessible to anything but eagles; yet we were informed that these solitary caves were once occupied by hermits, some of whom reduced their bodies to a condition that four raisins per day supplied the cravings of appetite. Down to an immense depth, we discovered a small stream tumbling over the rocks, which we were told was the "Brook Cherith, that is before Jordan," where the Prophet Elijah was fed by ravens, while the famine prevailed in Palestine.
We stopped for lunch under the shade of some crumbling walls and pointed arches, where our generous sheik left us, his services being no longer required. Before leaving, he inscribed, in beautiful Arabic, his official name in my journal. Mounting our horses, we soon reached Bethany, situated about two miles from Jerusalem. Its location is pleasant and romantic, being built on the eastern slope of Mount Olivet, partially surrounded by steep hills, encircled by old, decayed terraces, supporting a few scattered fig and olive trees. It is a poor, miserable village, with narrow, filthy streets; the whole presenting a dismal appearance, yet a place of sacred interest. Here dwelt the sisters, Mary and Martha, with Lazarus their brother. Here Christ raised Lazarus from the tomb and presented him alive to his weeping sisters. Here, too, was the house of Simon the leper, in which Mary anointed Jesus with precious ointment and wiped his feet with her hair. The sites of these events are still pointed out—the house of Simon, that of Mary and Martha and the tomb of Lazarus. The latter is a deep vault, partly excavated in the rock and partly lined with masonry. We stopped our horses at the front of the entrance. This opens on a winding staircase leading to a small chamber, whence a few steps more lead to a small vault in which the body is said to have been placed. We made but a short stay in this village, much to the disappointment of a crowd of dirty, ragged customers, who clamored fearfully for backsheesh.
As we approached Jerusalem, we descended a steep hill, down a rocky, winding, shelvy path, past an immense cemetery and the Garden of Gethsemane, with its ornamental trees, gravel walks, flowers and shrubbery, then around the towering battlements of Jerusalem, and soon reached our encampment, well pleased with our three days' excursion.
I was much interested in the topographical appearance of the country around about Jerusalem. The city is situated on a broad mountainous ridge, between the two valleys of Hinnom and Kedron. All around, from one to three miles distant, are loftier summits, consisting of irregular, broken ridges, varying from fifty to two hundred feet above the buildings of the city. They slope down, forming into small plains, low valleys, and steep, rugged ravines, presenting a panoramic view, beautiful and sublime. Along the western horizon runs a long range of hills, about the same height as that on which the city stands.
On the south, some distance from the city, is the "Hill of Evil Council," where it is said Caiaphas had a house where the priests and elders met to compass the destruction of Jesus; it is now covered with the ruins of some village. Northwards, rising conspicuously in the distance, is "Neby Samuel," the ancient Mizpeh, which is distinguished by its high towers. On the east, about half a mile from the city walls, the Mount of Olives rises from the Valley of Jehoshaphat, olive trees ornamenting its slopes, its summit crowned by a mosque, with its high tapering minaret. Some portions of these hills show little else but white rocks projecting from the soil, which is almost as white as the rocks themselves; others are covered with fields of grain, and fig and olive orchards.
The plateaus and vales are generally cultivated, and covered with herbage and fig and olive trees. The ravines, especially the Hinnom and Kedron, in places are so steep and rugged that nothing is seen, scarcely, but a few olive trees here and there, growing upon narrow terraces built upon the rocks and cliffs. The summit of the Mount of Olives rises several hundred feet above the city, affording one of the most commanding views of Jerusalem and its surroundings.
I ascended this mountain, and obtained a favorable position upon the highest point on its summit, spent a happy hour surveying the "Holy City," its environs, and the endless objects of rare and sacred interest which formed the magnificent scenery around. Through the olive trees along the declivity could be discerned the white top of "Absalom's Pillar," and the grey excavated cliffs of Siloam; the high walls of Jerusalem appeared with their square towers; the Mosque of Omar, with its magnificent dome in the centre, occupying the site of Araunah's threshing floor, and Solomon's Temple, around it a grassy area, the whole encircled by olive and cypress trees; the two domes and the strong square tower of the Church of the Sepulchre, the massive towers of the citadel standing upon the Hill of Zion; in the distance a long line of high hills, and low broken ranges of mountains, with intervening vales, plateaus and wild ravines—the whole forming a marvelous picture of varied beauty and magnificence.
It is astonishing, the number of cemeteries we observed around about Jerusalem. It is truly said, that the "tombs" of the "Holy City" are more numerous than its buildings. Nearly every hill and valley is studded more or less with these monuments.