Letters from Palestine / Written during a residence there in the years 1836, 7 and 8

by J. D. Paxton

The French prince whom I have mentioned before as on a visit to Palestine, we learned, had spent the night at the fountain with his retinue. He had come the day before from Bethlehem to the Dead Sea, and from thence came up past Jericho to the fountain of Elisha, and was off this morning for Jerusalem before we arrived. It would seem that even to unbelievers this land has a most intense interest; and well it may, for what land ever witnessed such wonders as have taken place in Palestine?

We took a south-east direction across the plain, which differed but little from the district we had already passed over, in the sterility of its aspect. This appearance may in part have been owing to the circumstances, that we were now at the close of the summer, and these plains had been parched with a six months burning sun, without the protection of a good covering of vegetable growth, and not favoured with a shower of rain. This was enough to parch the life out of almost anything. Parts of the plain had been under tillage, and on some spots the stubble on the ground showed that a crop of grain had been gathered, but the greater part lay untilled. It no doubt serves, as much of the best lands of these regions do, for pasturage—a matter, in the estimation of the people of this country, equally, if not more important than land employed in tillage. This is not the season for flocks to be seen on the plains, as they are too much burned up; and I know not where they can find districts at present that are not. At the distance of a mile and a half from the Jordan we made a descent of eight or ten feet. The descent was rather irregular, the edge of the strata much washed, and there were many irregular parcels of earth along the edge, that had resisted the wastings which had removed the strata to this extent. The whole surface of this part of the plain was very destitute of vegetation. At the distance of nearly three quarters of a mile we made another descent, nearly as great as the former; the edge of it had much the same washed and irregular appearance. The land on which we now entered had many of these irregular mounds of earth that I mentioned as lying along the water edge of the former descent. It looked as if the whole plain had once been on a level with the part above the first descent, and that a sweeping torrent, extending out to where the first bank is, had passed over it, and swept away about ten feet of earth, except a few hard spots near the edge; then, that another torrent had come down, reaching out only to the place where the second bank is, and within its range had carried off about ten or twelve feet of earth, leaving a large number of spots that resisted it; for the mounds between the first and second banks nearly agreed in height with the plain above that bank, while those below the second bank agreed in height with the land between the first and second banks. In the space between the second and third banks much of the ground looked as if it was often covered with water, like the dried mud on which water has long lain; this was not the general character of this district. There were at places many small bushes, and on some parts of it a pretty considerable crop of dry weeds. We made a third descent near the stream, of about the same depth. On and near this last bank, down to the water's edge, there were many bushes of various kinds; among them considerable quantities of the willow, "the willow of the water-courses."

The Jordan, where we visited it, may be twenty or twenty-five yards wide. It is, however, very various in its width, but I should think what I have given embraced its common width. It had a strong current at this place, and was very muddy; whether this is its usual colour, or was in consequence of a considerable fall of rain two days before, I am unable to say. After amusing ourselves in the water for some time, we thought it would not do to come away without crossing it. We swam to the other side, and cut some rods from the willows, on "the other side of Jordan." We could have waded across, if it had not been for the rapidity of the current, which swept over a gravel bar into a deep hole. Many lives, it is said, have been lost at this place. We, however, swam over and returned in safety. I gathered twelve stones from the Jordan, and cut half a dozen stems from the willows that grew on its banks. We looked at the water, and the banks again and again, as if we were fearful we might forget how they looked; and at last, yet with reluctance, set off for the Dead Sea.

We saw the Jordan at the place usually visited by the pilgrims, three or four miles from its mouth. Its course makes it enter the Dead Sea somewhat east of the middle of the plain. It may be that some visitors follow the course of the stream, and see it at its entrance; we, however, did not do this, but made for the Dead Sea, at a point about midway from the entrance of the Jordan to the western side of the plain. I may here remark that the valley of the Jordan appears to be very uniform in its width. The ranges of hills which border this valley or plain, run nearly parallel to each other. The Dead Sea fills up this valley nearly from ridge to ridge, leaving but a small border of land along its shores.

In going from the Jordan to the Dead Sea, for a considerable space, not a blade of grass or vegetation was to be seen. It was so soft and dusty, that the horses sank to their fetlocks; and in some places it was rendered uneven by the irregular mounds—many of which did not seem to know what vegetation is. Whether this peculiar barrenness was owing to the unfavourable nature of the soil I know not; possibly this may be the case. I did not see any other indication of salt, which has been reported as found on the surface of the ground, until very near the sea. Between this barren district and the Dead Sea, there was an evident change in the aspect of the ground—we found some dry grass and small bushes; and as we came nearer the shore the bushes increased in size and number, and some spots might be called thickets. We saw also a cane brake and a variety of other growth. To my very agreeable surprise, I found the shore fine, smooth, gravelly, and deepening very slowly, so that a person might wade in for some distance. There was along the shore drift-wood, most of it small, but still larger than any I had seen on the Jordan. This would seem to indicate that somewhere on its shores there is more timber than we found in the spot we visited. The water was not only very salt but exceedingly bitter, as much so as most travellers have stated. The great density of the water was amply proved by its power to bear up the body. There is some truth in the saying, that it requires an effort to keep the feet and legs under, so as to use them with advantage in swimming. Some writers have, however, stated the matter in rather too strong terms.

I could lie on my back in the water, with my head, hands, and feet, all out at the same time, and remain thus as long as I pleased without making any motion whatever; this I could not do in any other water that I have been in. Still it is carrying the matter too far and beyond the truth, when it is said to be so heavy, or so dead, that it never rises in waves, but always lies smooth and unruffled, let the wind blow as it will. The drift-wood thrown out is evidence to the contrary. The shore exhibited proof that but a day or two before the waves had run high; but the best proof of all was the ocular and sensible one that they were then chasing each other out on the shore, as they do in all other seas—true they did not run high, but then there was not much wind to make them. The water was so clear that the bottom could be seen with great distinctness. In wading in there was, at some places, more softness at the bottom than I was led to expect from the firm character of the shore. There were, however, some spots on the shore where the soil gave way under our feet, and exhibited a kind of quicksand, as I demonstrated by getting into one of them over my shoes. Still the bank, the water, and the bottom, so far as I saw and tried it, had much less of the terrible, fearful, and unnatural, than I had expected. Instead of that dark, gloomy, and turbid spread of water, that from my childhood I had imagined, it struck me as a very pleasant lake. It reminded me of the beautiful lake of Nice. As to the deep and fearful gloom which many writers describe as hanging over it, I must think that it is mainly found in their imaginations. It is not wonderful that a place, which, for its great wickedness, was doomed to such a fearful catastrophe as were the cities which stood on this plain, should be long looked upon with fear and horror. It is a wise provision of our nature that it should be so. It operates, and no doubt is designed so to do, as a check to that fearful wickedness that calls down such a doom. It is not an uncommon thing for people to think that there is something fearful and gloomy in places where they know awful crimes have been perpetrated, and on this principle, perhaps, we may account for the fact that so many travellers have dwelt on the deep gloom which hung over the water, and the fearful desolation that reigned over the whole region. Now to me it did not appear thus; the shore, the waters, and the lake, had a natural and even a pleasing appearance—the more so as, from my old habits of thinking, I expected something of the fearful, if not terrible. The district was, it is true, rather destitute of trees and vegetation; but not more so than many districts that I have seen; not more so than the district from Mount Olivet to the plain of Jordan, and a very large district near Damascus, which I noticed in a former letter. There are more small trees, bushes, canes, and other vegetable growth, for a quarter of a mile along the shore, than there are on some districts north-west of Damascus, perhaps ten miles square, leaving out the narrow slips of land irrigated by the water of the Bareda. There is quite a cluster of small trees or shrubs at a point on the edge of the water, where it is soft and swampy. The question whether there are any living things in these waters is one that I am not able to decide from my own observation. I saw none.

There is a small island fifty or a hundred yards from the shore, rising six or eight feet above the level of the water, and appears to have some stones at the upper part of it. We thought we could see most distinctly another island, far to the south. As similar statements have often been made, and again contradicted, we looked at it the more carefully; and our conclusion was, notwithstanding all the declarations to the contrary, it must be an island, and one of considerable size, unless connected with the other shore by a very low neck of land, which the great distance prevented our seeing: this time will show. It is a singular fact, that a piece of water, which for ages has excited more intense interest than any other in the world, should yet be so little known, and so few should have been found who have made a serious attempt to explore it. There has not, as far as I know, been but one boat on the waters of the Dead Sea for ages, if from the days of Abraham; there may have been in the days of the Jewish nation, but I have not seen it confirmed by any writer. Last year an intelligent Irishman took a boat across from Acre to the lake of Tiberias, and after amusing himself with it on that lake, he passed down the Jordan to the Dead Sea, and spent some days in exploring it. How far he went to the south, and what discoveries he made, is not known. He had the misfortune to be taken sick, owing in part, it was supposed, to his imprudence and useless exposure. With much difficulty he got back to Jericho, and was then carried to Jerusalem, where he died. He had taken but few notes, which were unintelligible to all but himself. When inquired of concerning his expedition on the Dead Sea, he declined answering until he should recover, when he would tell them all about it. But death closed up the communications for ever. The boat was taken out and carried up to Jericho, as I have since learned. I did not know it was there, or I should have ascertained its fitness for another voyage. Were some one, acquainted with navigating a small vessel, and capable of taking soundings and making a proper survey of the lake, to spend a month or two in doing it, and to publish a full account, with a correct map of the sea and the coast, he would confer a very great favour on the Christian world. It would be so easy of execution, and of so universal interest when done, that I wonder that none of those men who long for public fame have not before now thought of it. It would be a curious matter, were some of the ruins of those ancient and devoted cities yet to be seen. Several of the old authors have mentioned them as to be seen in their day, and it is a current report among the natives that they are now to be seen beneath the water. Travellers now begin to pass to the eastern side of the Dead Sea, and visit Kerek at its south-east corner, and Petra the capital of ancient Edom.

On our return we took a course much more to the south, than the road by which we went down—having in view to visit and spend the night at a celebrated monastery, the San-Saba, which lies south-east of Jerusalem, and on the borders of the Engedi region. We therefore ascended the hills near the north end of the Dead Sea. Several beds of torrents lay in our route, which, although now dry, exhibited evidence that they do at times carry much water into the Dead Sea.

We had a striking proof of how little the people here knew of the country out of the common track. In ascending the hills, which were high and steep, and of the same soft yielding character before described, we had near us, on our right, a very deep gorge. It struck me that this might be the Kedron; and on asking our guides they at first hesitated, but after consultation, agreed that it was. We, however, found to our satisfaction before we reached Jerusalem, that this could not be the case, as we left this hollow far to our right in passing over the hills; and still found that the Kedron was on our left as we approached Jerusalem. I could not but often think during the tour of the expression, "going up to Jerusalem," and "going down to Jericho." It is down, down, all the way to Jericho; and up, up, all the way to Jerusalem.