Start for Jerusalem. Appearance of our Cavalcade. Djerid play near Jaffa. Plain of Sharon. Night ride. Ramla. The Cadi’s theory about Earthquakes. Beth-Horon. Entrance to the Hill-Country. Aboo Ghoosh. David’s Brook. First view of Jerusalem. Difficulty in getting accommodations. Greek Monastery. Distressful night.
Our joy at finding all obstacles removed, and that we were actually going to visit Jerusalem, was great indeed. The visit had been a subject of pleasing anticipation from the beginning of the cruise, and a disappointment here would have cast a damp upon all our other pleasures. But here we were at last, ashore at Jaffa, mounted and ready to be off; every face cheerful, and our hearts swelling with expected enjoyment. We wound through the low bazaar, and then slipping and stumbling over the execrable pavement of the gateway, found ourselves out in the country, and fairly on our way. And here we turned to look at each other, and enjoy the oddity and grotesqueness of the scene. We were, indeed, a curious looking set of pilgrims. As we arrived ashore, there was a general scrambling for the animals, which, by orders of the governor of Jaffa, had been brought in from the country for the occasion; and as these included every variety, and there was little time for choosing, it was amusing to see the mal-agreement which often occurred between man and beast. A stout and heavy man might be seen sweating and toiling along on the back of one of the most diminutive of donkeys; a graceful cavalier, who prided himself on his horsemanship, and had selected what appeared to be a fine-looking Arab, found himself on an asthmatic animal, which neither whip nor the pins stuck into his boots for lack of spurs, could force from a sluggish walk. Then came along a young midshipman, on a streak of lightning, clinging to the mane or saddle, and agape to find himself in a situation where his superior officers, and even the Commodore, were glad to yield the deck to him. His horse, brought up on the wild hills, is unconscious how sadly he is violating naval etiquette; and away they go, till a turn in the road hides them from our sight. “Give my Jack a punch,” cries one, “the nasty beast, I can’t get him to move;” while at the act, Jack suddenly finds the use of his hinder quarters, and the puncher, from being a grave-looking personage, suddenly takes to hopping and singing, and working his features into the oddest grimace. Some of our company had no animals at all, and others were debating whether they had not better leave those they had; while the animals themselves stood straight up to second the motion. My friend M——, thinking perhaps that necessity hath no law, stepped up coolly to a horse fastened to a bit of shrubbery, and having loosed him, and thrown his Turkey rug over the saddle, seated himself on the top of it; concluding, with good reason, that the owner would soon be after him, and that he could then, perhaps, make a bargain for the beast. It turned out that the horse belonged to a soldier going our way, and who, on promise of a bakshish, or present, agreed to this impudent arrangement; but the next morning horse and soldier were missing, and with them the fine, large Turkey rug,—showing how universally we may apply the counsel, “set a rogue to catch a rogue.”
Amid this scene of confusion, the general attention was directed to the family group at the head of the party, a group respected and beloved by all of us; and it was gratifying, in the cheerful looks of the ladies, to find that they were rather amused than dismayed by the necessary discomforts of this new kind of travelling. We got, by and by, into pretty good order, and moved cheerily on. Our company consisted of the Commodore, lady, and three daughters, the consul and lady, thirty-six lieutenants, midshipmen, &c., twelve petty officers and servants; and muleteers in addition sufficient to make a party in all, of more than seventy persons.
Nearly every individual was armed, and our warlike accoutrements, as well as the rest of our fitting out, had a broad dash of the picturesque.
While we were getting ready for a move, an old seaman came up to me, and begged hard that I would get him permission to accompany us. “Why, W——,” I replied, “I don’t see what reason I can give for it that fifty others might not urge, and besides, you have no donkey—you see every thing with four legs to it is already taken up.” “Oh,” he replied, “ask to allow me to walk by —— and take care of the sedan; and as to a donkey, I don’t need one, I am willing to walk all the way.” I succeeded in the application, and had forgotten the circumstance, till one day, eighteen months after, when the crew had been discharged, W—— came up to me on the wharf at Norfolk, and, taking my hand, said I had conferred a favor on him which he would remember to the last day of his life. I asked him what it was: “Oh,” he replied, “you got me permission to go to Jerusalem.”
When I returned from the Holy City, I brought back a quantity of olive root from the Mount of Olives, and giving it to the carpenter on board ship to saw it up, on going to the bench, I found the seamen around, catching the sawdust, and picking the earth from the holes among the roots. So strong was the feeling of interest with which the proximity of the city had inspired us.
It may be supposed, then, that we wound along among the gardens of Jaffa with cheerful alacrity. The road is sandy and toilsome, but is bordered with shrubbery interwoven with the huge cactus, and gay flowers were pendant on every side. We had left the city at 4 P. M.; and the sun, now throwing its rays slantingly among the blossoms and foliage, gave them their richest effect. About a mile from the walls we came to a Turkish fountain, about twenty feet in height, and highly ornamented. The road bends at this place, and soon after ascends a range of low hills, where cultivation ceases, and the traveller finds himself in the open country, without enclosure or habitation in sight.
A number of the European consuls, and other gentlemen resident in Jaffa, had done us the honor to accompany us thus far. They were mounted on fine spirited Arabs, and now driving the shovel-shaped stirrup into their horses’ sides, flew up the hill side, and at length, brought at the summit in bold relief against the sky, they formed a picture such as is seen only in these glowing eastern countries. They wore the native costume, presenting a variety of brilliant and fanciful colors; and in this case the dress was perfectly clean, and evidently put on with careful and studied effect. Having presently reached a level piece of ground, they scattered, and commenced the djerid, a play in which the Arabs greatly delight, and which is adapted to bring out the powers both of horse and rider, and show them to fine advantage. Each horseman is furnished with a stick of some tough material, four or five feet in length, and of the thickness of the middle finger; they divide about equally, and each selecting an opponent, the effort is to strike the adversary with the rod. In doing this they pursue each other at the top of the horse’s speed, often bring him to a halt so suddenly as to throw him on his haunches, whirl at an instant’s warning, hang by the leg and arm so as to avoid the whizzing rod, catch it in the air, or, while the horse is at full speed, snatch it from the ground, and turning, become the pursuer till the rod is discharged, or the adversary has again recovered one in his turn. It is an exciting and highly animated sport, and was kept up on the large plain, now on our right, now on the left, till one or two of the company became provoked by some well-dealt blows, and the play began to look serious; while a few showed by their soiled dresses that they had come in closer contact with the ground than was pleasant. Kind feeling was, however, soon restored by some smart hits in return, and the play wound up in good-humor; after which, our Arab guide, with his long, slender spear, once more putting himself at the head of our party, our friends wheeled their steeds, and having made a graceful salaam, darted over the hill on their return to Jaffa, and were soon out of sight.
We were now fairly on the celebrated Plain of Sharon; but times have sadly changed, and we might have looked in vain for roses or any other shrub. The road laid through a country not absolutely flat, and yet scarcely undulating; with scarcely a tree, and no where presenting any sign of cultivation. Towards sunset, however, we found ourselves approaching an olive grove, beyond which, on our left, was a wretched looking village of ten or a dozen houses; also a ruin of large dimensions, which we had not time to examine. Beyond this the country assumed the same open and deserted appearance; and, except a fountain which we passed a few miles onward, there was nothing to show that it was the habitation of men. Darkness, by and by, began to fall around us, we drew our company into a more compact form, and having examined our arms, passed on in silence; a spirit of sadness and musing, excited probably by the melancholy nature of the country, having apparently seized on the whole of our party.
We were now in what was formerly the territory of the tribe of Dan, their possessions, I believe, having extended from the sea inward to a distance of thirty miles, and about twelve from north to south. Of Dan, it was said by his father Jacob, that he was “a serpent by the way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horse-heels, so that his rider shall fall back.” And the position which long afterwards fell by lot to this tribe, appears to have been adapted to produce or to cherish such a trait of character.