Jaffa still boasts of a manufacture of glass. The bottles that are blown are as fine as Florence flasks. It was on the second day after our arrival that we quitted Jaffa, accompanied by two horsemen. We had ten camels for our baggage, and fourteen horses and mules for the party. Mr. Pearce had declined accompanying Lady Hester any farther than Jaffa, having planned for himself a different route from that which she intended to pursue; we therefore left him in the monastery.[30] The road lies due east, at first through gardens, and is broad, commodious, and picturesque. After quitting the gardens, we entered the open country. A mile or two farther we discovered a number of peasants reaping barley to the tune of a pipe and tabor and the noise of a great drum. Near them were several tents pitched; and a number of young Turks, with small sticks in their hands, not used merely as emblems of authority, were urging them on in their work. These were labourers working for the Aga or governor at the barley harvest. One of the peasants ran towards us with a wisp of barley in his hand, and offered it to her ladyship, asking a present. No nation understands better the art of extorting presents than the Arabs; and small and great are alike shameless in that respect.
After a march of four hours we arrived at Ramlah, and were received at the Holy Land monastery by an old monk, who happened on that day to have made plentiful libations to the rosy god. As the monastery has a vast number of cells, we were all conveniently accommodated. It is said to have been founded by Philip the Good.[31] It is a strong building, having on the ground floor vaulted rooms, serving for the refectory, kitchen, offices, &c., above which are the cells; and the outer wall is strong and high enough to secure its inmates from popular tumults, or the equally unpleasant visits of marching troops.
The country between Jaffa and Ramlah is undulating, and of a rich soil, as might be judged from the fine crops of barley. We were witnesses, on approaching Ramlah, to a sight so extraordinary, that the image of it will never be effaced from my recollection. We had proceeded about half way, when every now and then we observed, as we thought, a vast number of grasshoppers: presently they became more numerous. One of the guides informed us they were called geràd, (
) which at last we understood to mean locusts. Our attention was immediately roused at the name of this destructive insect. As we advanced, they became so thick that they covered the fields to the right and left of us, and were seen marching in a strait line, not to be stopped by any impediment. At one place, there was a house and a tree in their way; they covered both so completely, that neither stone nor trunk could be descried, and both objects appeared as if cased in bright green. The young wheat had disappeared before them, and dreadful was the havoc they had made. To look at them must have filled with despair all who had aught to lose by these ravages, since their numbers seemed to bid defiance to human powers of destruction. The observations that we had an opportunity of making at this time were few; but we shall have occasion hereafter to speak more largely on the subject. Ramlah, according to Abulfeda, was founded by Soliman, the son of Abdel Malek, of the race of the Ommiades, and was the largest city of Judea in the time of this author.
As we were to rest one day at Ramlah, we took that opportunity of riding over to the adjoining village of Lyd, the Diospolis of the Romans. The road was pretty and picturesque, lying between hedges of the prickly pear shrub, with here and there fields of grain that would have enriched the prospect, but for the havoc which the locusts had made. Lyd is a village much smaller than Ramlah; it has a very fine church, said to have been built by Justinian. Having satisfied our curiosity, we returned to Ramlah.
We set off the following morning, having handsomely rewarded our host for the lodging he had afforded us. As I was taking my leave of him, he, being now sober, addressed me in the following terms: “I participate in the pleasure you must feel at the prospect of your visit to the Holy Sepulchre. You have already, young man, travelled a great deal. To have seen the noblest works of antiquity, to have passed over the spots distinguished by the exploits of famous men of old, will perhaps afford you many amusing and instructive reflections, and will serve to enliven an idle hour with your friends in England. But, in the decline of life, when worldly objects and pursuits begin to lose their interest, to be succeeded by others more serious and important, the remembrance of your pilgrimage will be as a balm to your mind, and will serve to maintain that wholesome meditation, which, though proper at all periods of our life, is more peculiarly so when we are about to quit it. Englishmen, whose country is so remote from the Holy Land, cannot, in the common course of events, hope to have opportunities of performing this sacred duty, and they are apt to assign to it no particular importance; but, in these Eastern countries, where the enemies of the Christian religion keep alive, by their persecutions, the ardour of its followers, it is esteemed the principal action of a man’s life. He acquires the proud title of pilgrim; his manners assume a sanctity which he is bound to keep up by the strictest morality and by every religious observance; every honourable distinction is paid him. I rejoice, therefore, with you in your undertaking; and, in time to come, whenever, from the weakness of human nature, you swerve from the line of conduct which a Christian ought to follow, let the recollection of it lead you back to the path of virtue.” I thanked the holy father for his good wishes. He then asked me whether I would not take a little brandy before starting, to keep out the heat; and, on my refusal, wished me a pleasant journey.
For the first half hour we had a continuation of the same beautiful country that we had passed between Jaffa and Ramlah; after which we began to ascend the mountain. We were not yet accustomed to the rugged and winding paths of the mountains of Syria; otherwise we should not have been so much surprised as we were at those we encountered. The French Mamelukes, habituated for so many years to the plains of Egypt, expressed more astonishment than ourselves, and seemingly felt more alarmed: yet the road to Jerusalem, as we afterwards found, is much more practicable than many in Mount Lebanon.
We reached a large village, encompassed by vineyards and fig and olive-trees, where we were to encamp for the night. The soil was stoney, and hardly afforded us a smooth place whereon to lay our beds. We were received very courteously by the chieftain, or shaykh, who may be said to have the keys of Jerusalem; since no pilgrims can pass from Jaffa, unless by his permission, as the road lies through his village, and is at once narrow, difficult, and lonely. Hence it is that he stands in little awe of the pashas who threaten or would intimidate him; for, with his mountaineers, though few in number, he can brave almost any force they can send against him; and the trial has been made often enough not to leave it doubtful. He exacts a severe toll from all pilgrims that are Christians, and levies contributions on the monasteries of Jerusalem almost at his will. His name was Abu Ghosh, and he had three brothers, shaykhs, nearly of equal rank with himself, since they participated, to a certain degree, in his power and plunder.
Abu Ghosh, then, received us very courteously, killed a sheep for us, gave us corn for our animals, and supplied all our wants. He was naturally curious to see and converse with a lady, who was travelling so splendidly, and who, he soon observed, was not to be numbered with the pilgrims in the habit of traversing his territory. For these, even if Europeans, are ill mounted and accoutred, and are rendered timorous by the exaggerated accounts that are given them by the monks of this chieftain’s cruelty. Finding the talents and conversation of her ladyship, and the dignity of her manners, to exceed anything he had ever seen in Europeans, his delight was unbounded.