Buried Cities and Bible Countries

by George St. Clair

Tradition also is valuable as confirming the identification of sites, although it might be insufficient if it stood alone. In the case of Jacob’s Well, near Nablous (Shechem), the Hebrew and Samaritan traditions, the Mohammedan and Christian traditions, all agree. There is agreement also about the grotto at Bethlehem, under the Church of the Nativity, as the place of Christ’s birth. There can be no question that the cave of the field of Machpelah, which Abraham bought for a burial place, is that which is now covered by the great mosque at Hebron. And here again we have that valuable consent of traditions—Jewish, Christian, and Moslem—which seems to distinguish the true sites from those less genuine concerning which two or more discordant traditions have arisen. The Prince of Wales, Dean Stanley, and a few other Europeans have been admitted into the mosque; but it seems very doubtful if any living being has ever descended into the mysterious cavern beneath the floor since the Moslem conquest of Palestine. The surrounding wall of the mosque is also one of the mysteries of Palestine, and a monument inferior only to the Temple Enclosure at Jerusalem, which it resembles in style.

The Temple Area at Jerusalem is still a sanctuary; and the Tower of Antonia maintains its military character in the present Turkish barracks. In Palestine we find a Mohammedan mosque where a Christian church used to be—and built from the same materials. The church in its time had followed a Jewish synagogue. Throughout the country for thousands of years the people have gone on living in the same way and in the same place, and calling the places by the same names. The name of almost every village is Hebrew, and each stands on the great dust-heap into which the ancient buildings have crumbled. The Hebrew names are retained, and are scarcely changed since the days of Abraham, because the peasantry are really Semitic in descent.

In those parts of the country which are seldom visited by Europeans the natives were much astonished to see the Survey party at work. At one place called Baka (in the Sharon district) the great gig umbrella over the theodolite attracted much attention, and the chief delight to elderly men was a peep through the theodolite telescope. “What do you see, O father?” cried the less fortunate who crowded round the observer. “I see Hammad and his cows, two hours off, as if he were close here!” replied the delighted elder.

It was a common notion that the English intended to take the country, the Survey being only preparatory to that step. The land was being parcelled out, and cairns erected on the high mountains where the chief men would build their houses. The surveyors were looking for crosses cut on the ruins, and intended to claim ownership of all such places. Most of the peasantry believed they were seeking for hid treasure, which by incantation would be wafted to England. Sometimes they dug for gold under the cairns; often they pulled them down, and had in consequence to be imprisoned. A shepherd saw the party levelling, and had a vague idea they were making a railway, “Will you let the sea into Jordan?” he asked, “or will the steamships go on wheels?” “The best idea” (says Conder) “was that we were sent by the Sultan to see what villages had become ruinous, and to remit their taxes. We were favourites then!”

The work of the Survey was not carried out without frequent discomforts. For instance, the Bukei’a plain is good corn land, “but seems to have a bad natural drainage, and our mules floundered in deep bogs, sometimes up to their girths. Farther north we began to descend a long valley, and came on a different kind of country, a basaltic outbreak appeared, and cliffs tilted in every direction; the valley bed was strewn with fragments of hard basalt. Passing over a bare ridge we descended into a most desolate valley where a muddy stream was flowing. We had ridden 15 miles, and it now began to rain again. We found to our dismay that this was where we had to camp, as no other supply of water existed in a position central to the new work. We soon made a still more unpleasant discovery. The valley was full of clear springs, but they were all tepid and salt. If the Survey was to be done at all, it appeared that we should have to drink brackish water for ten days or more. Here, then, we sat down on the wet grass, in a driving drizzle of rain, by the brackish stream: not a soul was to be seen, either Bedawi or peasant, and it was evident that food would have to be brought from a distance. The mules soon arrived with our tents and beds, which though soaked with rain, we set up on the bare ground. Of course all the party were cross, and thought themselves injured. I had a very bad cold and rheumatism, and Habib had tic-douloureux. The Arabs looked wretched; but I was glad they should have their share of the hardships, for, unlike our Abu Nuseir friends at Jericho, they were the most lazy and good-for-nothing tribe we had come across.”

Again, at the miserable little hamlet of El B’aineh—between Lake Tiberias and the Mediterranean—they found the inhabitants all fever-stricken from the malarious exhalations of the great swamp, which even as late as July extended over half the plain. The place was evidently unhealthy, and they were tortured by armies of huge mosquitoes, rendering sleep impossible at night. Attacks of fever were frequent. “Once or twice” (says Conder) “the fit came on while I was riding, and I can imagine nothing more disagreeable than to be 10 miles from home on a rough road, with a fever headache.”

One night the Sukr Arabs tried to steal the horses, but the big dog gave a sharp bark, and the thieves were seen and fired on just as they reached the tethering rope. In another place, when the dog had been left behind, a thief came into the tents, ripped up the saddle-bag containing the provisions and took them all with him, besides the tin washing-basin, and the plates, bread, chickens, and barley from the servants’ tents—all being noiselessly and neatly accomplished in about ten minutes. The next morning the party were without food.

But there were worse things than these to endure. In the district of David’s wanderings Corporal Brophy was attacked by four cowherds, who abused him as a “pig,” and threatened to stone him. He had, indeed, some difficulty in escaping. “The first really serious attack on the party” (says Conder), “though not the last nor the worst, was made near Mount Carmel. Sergeant Black was quietly surveying near the village of El Harithiyeh, where, as it appeared afterwards in evidence, a fete or ‘fantasia’ was being held. The young men were firing at a mark, and one or more turning at right angles, deliberately fired at the sergeant on the neighbouring hill. He must have been in no little danger, as he brought home two bullets which had fallen near him.”

On the 10th July 1875 a very serious attack was made upon the whole party, and it is a marvel that any of them escaped with their lives. Fatigued with a long and arduous march, and a final ascent of 2000 feet, they chose a camping ground north of Safed, a town which lies in a saddle of the high mountains of Upper Galilee and looks down on the lake. The tents were about half way up when Major Conder, resting on his bed, in shirt-sleeves and slippers, heard angry voices in altercation. Looking out, he saw to his astonishment a sheikh, evidently a man of good position, engaged in throwing stones at Habib, who, with his hands spread out, was calling the bystanders to witness the treatment he underwent. Conder advanced to demand an explanation; but the sheikh, who was mad with passion, strode up to him, seized him by the throat and shook him, meantime pouring out unintelligible words. Major Conder had been accustomed to be treated with respect, even by the highest officials in the country; and he felt that if he submitted to this insult he would lose his influence with the natives for ever, so he knocked the man down. He got up and returned to the attack, with one arm behind him. Conder knocked him down a second time, and as he fell observed in his hand a knife with a blade a foot long. Conder’s party consisted of five Europeans and ten Maronites, and when the latter heard news of the insult received by their “Kabtân,” they came running up, quite beside themselves, and soon seized the sheikh, took his knife away, and bound his arms behind his back. The sheikh cried out, “Where are my people?” and the Moslem bystanders began to throw stones. Conder’s servants were running to the tents for arms, for they had eight revolvers ready for use, besides three shotguns and a rifle. Their “captain,” however, was wiser; he had the sheikh immediately released, and sent Habib at once to the Governor of the town. But the crowd presently numbered about three hundred, and all the more violent engaged in hurling stones. Lieutenant Kitchener was struck more than once, and a muleteer was knocked over. The cries which Christians in Palestine have good reason to dread, associated as they are with memories of bloodshed, were now raised by the mob—“Allah! Allah!” and “Din! Din! Mohammed!” the cry of the Damascus massacres. Presently a number of fully-armed men came running down the hill-side, all relatives and retainers of the sheikh, who indeed, it afterwards appeared, was no less a person than ’Aly Agha ’Allân, a near relative of ’Abd el Kâder himself. “I advanced at once” (says Conder) “to meet these assailants, and singled out two men, one a white-bearded elder with a battle-axe, the other a tall man with a club. They addressed me with many curses, and the old man thrust the battle-axe against my ribs; but it was a wonderful instance of the influence which a European may always possess over Arabs, that they allowed me to take them by the arms and turn them round, and that on my telling them to go home, with a slight push in that direction, they actually retreated some little way. Meantime a most extraordinary figure appeared—a black man with pistols in his belt, brandishing a scimitar over his head, and bellowing like a bull. He was the Agha’s slave, and bent on revenge; seeing him so near, and seeing also a gun pointed at my head, I retreated to the tents. I could not help laughing, even at so serious a juncture, when I found myself supported by Sergeant Armstrong, who stood at ‘the charge’ armed with the legs of the camera-obscura! I now saw that Lieutenant Kitchener was opposing another group to my right front, and went forward to him, when I was greeted with a blow on the forehead from a club with nails in it, which brought the blood in a stream down my face. The man who wielded it raised it once more, in order to bring it down on the top of my skull, but luckily I was too quick for him, and ducked my head close to his chest. The blow fell short upon my neck, but even then it stunned me for the moment, and I staggered.”

All the party were wounded, and as they were averse to using fire-arms, they at last “bolted over thistles and stone-walls to a hill-side some hundred yards away, and stood there in suspense and anxiety.” They were much surprised to hear no more the cries of the crowd; but soon learned that the Governor had sent a body of soldiers, and they were safe, at least for the moment. They returned to camp, and held their ground for the night, in spite of the threat of ’Aly Agha that he would come back and cut their throats. Next morning they marched out in good order, with four mounted guards, and made for the coast. Arriving at Acre they laid the affair before the Pacha, and telegraphed to Constantinople; for it would have been unsafe to attempt to continue their work until the assailants had been punished. Such was the attack at Safed. It was due to the insolence of one man, accustomed to overbear and bully the few Christians who pass through the town, and to the fanaticism of the Moslem population.