1st, The confession of truth, save when such confession may endanger the safety of the initiate, when silence is allowed. Thus, too, the Buddhist is taught not to interfere with the common beliefs of other men.2d, The duty of mutual help and assistance.3d, The concealed renunciation of every form of creed or dogma.4th, A separation from those who live in error.5th, The unity of “the Power” in all ages.6th, Contentment with His will.7th, Resignation to inevitable fate.
1st, The confession of truth, save when such confession may endanger the safety of the initiate, when silence is allowed. Thus, too, the Buddhist is taught not to interfere with the common beliefs of other men.
2d, The duty of mutual help and assistance.
3d, The concealed renunciation of every form of creed or dogma.
4th, A separation from those who live in error.
5th, The unity of “the Power” in all ages.
6th, Contentment with His will.
7th, Resignation to inevitable fate.
This then, I believe, is the true system of Druze initiation. The fantastic dogmas are but the husk of which this is the kernel. There is no real mysticism in the system, but simply a concealed scepticism which renounces even the most negative of religions—that of Muhammad. The inquirer who expects to discover a secret supernaturalism among these philosophers deceiveshimself, and would by them be regarded with contempt.
In the present chapter we have thus had occasion to refer to four developments of Moslem religion existing in Syria side by side with the Sunnee faith (the Metâwileh, the Ismailiyeh, the Anseiriyeh, and the Druze), and I may perhaps be pardoned a few words in addition on a question which of late has excited interest in England, namely, the comparative vitality of Christian and Moslem religion in lands where both exist together.
On this matter the views of the tourist visitor, however well stored his mind may be with knowledge obtained from books, have little permanent value. Nor will conversations, carried on by aid of a dragoman, with respectable Moslem doctors, or with peasants, really enable the new-comer to form a true opinion. Islam is not what it appears to be to the stranger, and Moslems do not, and indeed cannot, give to such a visitor a comprehensive view of their creed. It is necessary to live for many years in a Moslem country, and in daily contact with Moslems of all classes, in order really to know what they and their religion are like; and such contact will not lead the impartial observer to form a very high estimate of the practical results of Moslem teaching.
In the first place, Islam can only be regarded as a general term, like Christendom. There are in Islam as many antagonisms, as much indifference and disbelief, as many sects mutually hateful, as much discord and contention over abstract dogmas, as are to be found in the West. A general reconciliation and union is as impossible in the one case as in the other. But if we are to judge Christianity and Islam by their declaredmoral standards, Islam must stand second. It is, moreover, the most negative of faiths, distinguished by what it denies, not by what it maintains. The enthusiasm for Moslem religion which some writers express is but the natural reaction from that ignorant prejudice against the “wickedness of the false prophet” which used to mark our entire want of knowledge of Moslem belief; but this enthusiasm is also the result of imperfect knowledge, and it dies off as the student of Moslem life becomes more intimate with actual society in the East.
It is true that Islam spreads with rapid strides in countries where the Arabs are strong and where Christian teachers are weak. The conquered are forced to adopt the creed of the conqueror, but the conversion is not superior to the orthodoxy of Spain under the Inquisition; and the propaganda is the same as that of the persecuting days of mediæval Christianity. It is surely no mark of advanced religious culture that uniformity should be due to terror of the sword.
Islam does (as far as I have been able to observe) absolutely nothing for the education and raising up of the ignorant and of the poor. The religion of the so-called Moslem peasant is the paganism of the days before Islam was preached. He swears by Muhammad, but his real gods are the buried saints, whose power to punish him by misfortune he dreads. He lives in fear of the Jân, of the Ghouls, of the Kerâd or “goblins;” he prays to the holy tree; he believes in magic and in witches. No attempt is made to educate him. He cannot read or write; he has no doctor save the charitable European who may chance to pass by. So long as he proclaims his belief in God and the Prophet, noone troubles himself as to his fate. The dark places are full of cruelty, and the morality of the peasant is generally not better than that of the African savage.[45]The visitor, charmed by the natural dignity and courtesy of Oriental manners, does not see more than the surface, and it is not till one incident after another reveals the truth, that it can be recognised that Islam has done nothing to raise the poor. In the cities usually visited the traveller finds mosques filled with decent congregations. In the villages there are no mosques at all. Many peasants cannot repeat the simple Moslem prayer. They can do nothing more than light a lamp to theNebiwhen child or husband are sick. They dwell in an imaginary atmosphere of marvels, like that in which the Zulu or the Hindu peasant passes a lifetime of superstitious fear. We have nothing like it, save perhaps as a survival in the wilder mountain districts of Britain, where witches are still feared. The pious doctors and fanatic Imams of Islam have done nothing to compare to the home-missions of England. This is not only the case in Syria; it applies equally to the whole Moslem world.
Among the upper class, too, there are many differences of belief and of life. The mosque students and doctors represent, as a rule, orthodoxy of the most conservative type. Yet even among these some survival of the philosophy of the early Baghdad schools mayexist, some tinge of the influence of Plato and of Aristotle, which led captive for a while the intellect of Islam. Among these, again, the passionate mysticism of the Sufis represents an emotional condition not unknown in the West. The Sufi gives up the riddle of existence to seek the final union with God, which is the aim of his life. But side by side with these are men professing Islam, yet breaking its laws, soldiers and diplomatists who have seen the world unknown to the dweller in mosques or to the literary professor; men also who drink wine and who neglect prayer; other men who take bribes and grind the faces of the poor; pitiful ambitions gained by crooked means; white turbans covering hypocrisy, and successful humbugs decked with stars.
There is, however, one phase of Moslem life which has no exact counterpart in the West—a power which is often unsuspected but very great, namely, that of the Dervish orders. The visitor who sees the miserable mendicant in the street, who hears the frantic howls of those performing thezikr, or watches the stately dance of the Mawlawîyeh, little suspects the power which underlies these outward appearances, and little understands the reason for that reverence which is shown, even by Turkish officials, for the Dervish beggar. Miserable and ignorant as is the fanatic who thrusts a sword through his arm, or devours scorpions, charms snakes, treads on the sick babe laid before him, or bathes in charcoal embers, he yet belongs to a wide-spread secret organisation, and has sworn away his private judgment and liberty of action, devoting himself to fulfil the will of one man, the distant head of his order. A letter from such a chief will secure the active help of innumerableassociates scattered far and wide, in Turkey, in Egypt, and yet farther afield. The power which Gnostics, Assassins, Templars, and other secret orders used to wield is still wielded in a certain measure by the Dervish leaders: we have only a faint reflex of such a system among Masons. Yet it cannot be said that the Dervish orders have done much for Islam: rather have they served to secure the aims and ambitions of chiefs who, regarded by their ignorant followers as possessed of marvellous powers, are yet perhaps in reality as sceptical as the Druze initiates. By pretensions to spiritual knowledge and power they attract the poor candidate who stands naked at the door begging for admission to the order. By jugglery and sensational acts they captivate the imagination of the mob. But they are careful only to admit to their real counsels those of whose intelligence and trustworthiness they have had long experience. The Dervishes may lead the populace in religious war, but chiefly when certain very practical aims are seen by their leaders to be thereby attainable.
Such considerations, though they have led us far away from Galilee, will perhaps be allowed as the results of practical acquaintance with Islam, gained by six years of life in Moslem lands, and may be useful in face of the somewhat superficial estimates of Moslem religious life which so often appear before the public as the results of a trip to the more frequented towns of the Levant and the talk of dragomans and renegade Turks. I know only one point in which Islam has real advantage over Christianity, namely, in its direct condemnation of drink. Even Islam is unable entirely to stamp out this curse; but when we contrast the sobriety of Palestine with the drink traffic forced on natives of SouthAfrica by an English-speaking race, whose Government draws a revenue from the excise, we find that there is one great lesson to be learned in the East, and one great evil which the voice of Muhammad has always proclaimed as such. In all other respects—the position of women, the condition of education among the poor, the sympathy of the upper class with the ignorant, the love of truth, and of freedom, and of justice—the lands where Islam is established can never be compared with those where Christianity is purest.
These reflections have been raised by the remembrance of days spent in crossing over Hermon, from Banias to Hasbeya, on the road to Damascus, or in the investigation of the ruined towns and temples on the mountain, or in toiling to the summit, 9200 feet above the sea, where the Survey party once spent the night, and took observations of the stars for latitude. It is one of the wildest and most picturesque parts of Syria. The lower slopes are of the sandstone which underlies the Lebanon and appears on the Moab hills. Above is the hard fossiliferous limestone, which is a base-bed in Western Palestine. Near the Druze villages great cascades of bright green foliage deck the mountain slopes, where the vineyards, already famous in Hebrew times, run terrace above terrace. Clumps of pines, low thickets of oak and mastic, and hedges of wild rose rise towards the snowy dome, where the Syrian bears are hiding, and whence sometimes they venture down to eat the grapes. The costumes of the Druzes, the white veils, through which one eye only of the Druze damsels is seen, and the brightly-coloured dress of the men, are equally picturesque; as are, too, the solitarykhalwehsor meeting-places perched on cliffs remote from other habitations.
The scenery round Banias is also of remarkable beauty. It is well known to tourists, who generally visit it at its best. Here by the Mound of Dan is the fine clump of oaks, a familiar resting-place, near which is the tomb of Sheikh Merzûk, who is said to have been a dog. To the west the path crosses four rushing brooks, which join the cascades of Banias to form the Jordan, breaking over stony channels in a plain strewn everywhere with blocks of black basalt, covered at times with orange-coloured lichens.
It was here that I discovered a group of dolmens in 1882, which had previously been overlooked amid the many natural boulders, and which are no doubt connected with the old worship of the region. Farther east the town itself still preserves its great Norman wall in parts, and the rush of the Jordan, shooting down in a foaming torrent between thickets of low shrubs, with forest trees in groups here and there, and a few poplars, is that of an Alpine river rather than of a Syrian stream. High up on the east the ruins of the great castle, which was the bulwark of Christendom against Damascus, cover a long spur on the side of Hermon. The great cave of Pan, whence Banias takes its name, has now fallen in, so that the full effect, which probably was to be remarked when Josephus wrote, is lost; for the sudden bursting of the river out of the cavern must have been very striking. A little Moslem chapel is built on the debris, and dedicated naturally to El Khudr, the mysterious “green one,” who drank the water of life, and who represents the vivifying power of moisture in Moslem folk-lore. On the rocks, still half legible, are the Greek inscriptions of the days of Agrippa, one dedicating an altar to the nymphs,another recording the name of Agrippa as archon of the year, a third speaking of the priest of the god Pan. The name of Pan at this place is perhaps older than the Greek age, and of Canaanite origin, since the word as a Turanian term, meaning a “spirit,” is found in many languages of the group to which the Hittite tongue belonged. Looking southwards over the flat Jordan plain, you see the marshy Huleh lake shining amid its papyrus swamps. On the east are the fantastic cones of the Jaulan volcanoes, on the west the bushy range of Naphtali, on the north the rugged ridges of Hermon. The black camps of the Arabs are dotted over the plain, their brown cattle wander beside the streams, and the women in dark flowing robes are churning butter in goatskin bags beside the “houses of hair.”
Hermon appears in all ages to have been a sacred mountain and a religious centre. The name is thought by some to mean a “sanctuary,” but by Gesenius to mean a “mountain spur.” The old Amorite name was Shenir, of uncertain meaning, and the Sidonians called it Sirion, which is probably a Turanian word meaning “white” or “snowy.” Long after the calves of Dan had been overthrown, and before the calf became an emblem in the Druzekhalwehson the same mountain, the Romans covered its slopes with little temples. These have been, for the most part, visited and described. Sir Charles Warren made careful plans of the best-preserved examples, and nearly all of them I have explored on different occasions. At Rukhleh, on the north-west slope, there are remains of such a temple, which has been pulled to pieces apparently to make a church. The Roman eagle, which one traveller in his enthusiasm has called Hittite, is here carved in boldrelief, as also at Baalbek, and in the curious temples of the Anseireh mountains; and a great head of the sun-god is sculptured on another stone. Here, too, occur Greek inscriptions; one recording the adorning of the temple gates with silver, another mentioning the Epiarch of Abila. Farther north, at Abila itself, the ground is strewn with Greek funerary texts, and the rocks burrowed with tombs, one of which has rude busts in low relief over the entrance, such as we also found over Roman tombs in Gilead.
On the top of the mountain itself there are some very curious remains. A sort of peak has here been surrounded by an oval of cut stones carefully laid, within which we found a quantity of ashes, apparently belonging to some beacon or sacrificial fire once lighted on the spot. Close to this circle is a cave hewn in the rock, measuring fifteen feet by twenty-four, with a roof supported by a rocky pillar. Three steps lead down into the cave, and the rock above has been levelled, perhaps as the floor of a building. There is no historic account of the object with which this curious cave was cut high up on the snowy summit, remote from all inhabited spots. The Druze hermits are said to retire to Hermon, but their place of retreat was shown to me farther down the side of the mountain. The names of Antar and Nimrod are connected with various buildings on Hermon, and the remains on the top are called “Castle of the Youths” by the shepherds. It is said that a Greek inscription lies near the circle round the highest peak. This I was unable to discover. The rock of the peak has been cut so as to form a sunken trench with a round shaft—perhaps for water—beside it. The object of these cuttings is, however, obscure.
By passing the night on the summit, I was able to witness two of the most interesting scenes imaginable—the sunrise over the plains of Damascus and the sunset in the sea. These I have fully described in another work, but, as there is no other point from which such a general view of Palestine can be gained, I may be allowed to repeat in part what I saw. We ascended the mountain on the 9th of September, at which time it was quite free from snow. Indeed, we could not even find snow to melt for cooking, and had thus great difficulty in getting water.
Beneath us, apparently quite near, lay the calm Sea of Galilee, showing a light green among its dusky cliffs. Tabor and the Horns of Hattin appeared to the right, and the chain of the Safed mountains as far as the Ladder of Tyre. The gorge of the Litany River was clear, with Belfort on its northern slope, and Tyre itself with its harbours. Carmel formed the extreme distance on this side, about eighty miles away.
On the east the Syrian desert stretched unbroken towards the Euphrates, and the white houses and minarets of Damascus were set in a deep border of green from the surrounding gardens. Farther to the south-east, as on a map, we looked down into the craters of the Jaulan volcanoes, which seemed no larger than the hollow cones of the ant-bear. Over the great brown Bashan plains, so full of ruined Roman cities, of endless Greek inscriptions, of Nabathean texts scrawled on the rocks, and of dolmen groups yet older, we saw the great columns of the whirlwinds slowly stalking in the autumn heat. The Druze villages were at our feet, and a green valley with a gleaming stream.
On the west the long ridges of the Southern Lebanonreached out to the great level of the Mediterranean, with dark shadows in the deep ravines. On the north is Sannin, with its cedar clumps, and grey rocky walls, and valleys fringed with pines. The glorious flush of the Eastern sunset bathed all this scene for a few moments, and then, while still in sunshine ourselves, the steel-blue shadow crept over all the lower world. The great conical shadow of Hermon crept out eastwards and swallowed up Damascus, and stretching yet farther for seventy miles over the desert, stood out against the thick haze on the sky itself.
When the dawn rose, we again stood on the peak, where perhaps the old sun-worshippers used to await the great orb, which here rises from the desert horizon. Often in other places have I seen the first white streak and the glory of the aurora behind mountain ranges; but here, as the red globe appears in the mists over a boundless plain, the great shadow of Hermon stretches far across the dim Mediterranean—a sight not often seen by those who watch the dawn. Wherever a single peak stands out alone, such a shadow may be seen from the summit. In Teneriffe it stretches over the Atlantic, and the watchers on other mountains have seen it; but in Palestine there is nowhere else such a sight or so glorious a panorama, because nowhere else does a solitary mountain stand up twice the height of the surrounding hills. The great peak of Monte Viso, rising above the Italian snowy ranges, has a finer outline, but Hermon is unlike any mountain with which I am acquainted. It appears as the centre of every view in northern Palestine, and its snowy dome is seen from the plains near Jaffa, and from the valley of Jericho; while on the north its outline is equally impressive from theplains of Cœle-Syria, or from the heights of Lebanon. It is this scone which rises in the mind of Hebrew poets in many ages, and which inspires the Song of Songs: “Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir, even Hermon, from the lions’ dens, and from the mountains of the leopards.”
enlarge-imageJEBEL SANNIN (LEBANON). To face page 132.JEBEL SANNIN (LEBANON).To face page132.
JEBEL SANNIN (LEBANON).
To face page132.
THEsurvey of Western Palestine was happily complete in 1877, and the map was out in the following year; but the Memoirs were still not half published when, in 1881, I was again given command of a party instructed to carry the work east of Jordan. The adventures of the fifteen months which followed were far more exciting than any encountered west of the river. Even in 1877, when it was thought that some trouble might arise, the condition of affairs was really favourable, as the Turkish Government was very cordial, and all the dangerous characters were drafted out of the country to the war, leaving only peaceful elders, women, and boys. But in 1881-82 there was great excitement preceding the Alexandria massacres and the expectation of a Moslem Messiah in the year 1300 of the Hegira. In addition to this, our relations with Turkey had altered. The new Sultan refused to prolong our firman or to allow any exploration. The British Government served me with a notice that any expedition I might undertake was at my own risk, and that they would not be responsible for the consequences. We had, therefore, no support on which to rely, and were yet expected to work in thewildest districts, against the will of the Government of the country, and in a time of religious and popular excitement, finally culminating in massacre.
Arriving at Beirût in March 1881, before the assistants and the stores had left England, I determined to fill out the time by a journey through Northern Syria, in company with Lieutenant Mantell, R.E. The object of the excursion, which, by hard riding, was carried through in eighteen days, was to search for the lost city of Kadesh on Orontes. On our way through Baalbek we made the discovery of a Greek inscription painted in red in a chamber behind the north apse of the church built by Theodosius in the great enclosure. It appears to me to be as old as the time of the building of this church, and had not, I believe, been previously noticed.
Our farthest point was the ancient and picturesque town of Homs, whence we returned by the valley of the Eleutherus to Tripoli, and down the Phœnician coast. The full account of this journey I have already given (“Heth and Moab,” chaps. i. and ii.). The impression left on my mind was that few parts of the East would now better repay scientific exploration than Northern Syria. Excavations at Carchemish are urgently needed. Rock-tablets and large ruins exist in the Northern Lebanon, as yet very imperfectly explored. Round Homs there are great mounds awaiting the spade, which probably contain Hittite and other remains of the highest interest. Even the remains existing above-ground are as yet little known, though De Vogüé has done much for the Byzantine ruins of this region.
Kadesh on Orontes was the Hittite capital attackedby Rameses II., and an Egyptian picture represents it as a walled town surrounded by the river. Its discovery, which rewarded our labour, gave an instance of the necessity of keeping the mind open in archæological research, and of avoiding preconceived theory. South of Homs is a great lake, which, in the fourteenth century, was known as the Lake of Kadesh. A mound in this lake was thought likely to be the site of the city. We found, however, that the lake was artificial, being formed by a Roman dam across the river. This agrees with the statement of a Rabbinical writer, who says that the lake was made by Diocletian as a reservoir for the supply of Homs, the ancient Emesa; and an aqueduct still leads from the dam to this city. The lake, then, did not exist in the days of Rameses II.
Camping for the night a few miles south of this lake, I, as usual, inquired for the names of towns, ruins, &c., in the district, and to my surprise the nameKadeswas among them. We therefore altered our plan, and turned aside to explore the place pointed out under this name. We found it to be the site of an important town on the Orontes, about five miles south of the lake, and it was afterwards discovered that previous travellers had recovered the name, though it had escaped the map-makers. Standing on the great mound, and observing how the Orontes washes it on the east, while a tributary stream flows on the west and joins the river immediately to the north, no doubt remained possible that the name survived at a site exactly fulfilling the requirements of the Egyptian account. Excavations at the recovered Hittite capital might lead to very important discoveries, if thoroughly carried out.
I was much interested also to find a considerable Turkoman population in these plains; for the border between Turkic and Arab populations is generally placed much farther north. This mingling of Turanian and Semitic peoples round the old Hittite capital represents, in our own times, just the same racial condition which we gather to have existed in the time of Rameses II.
It has come to be generally recognised that the Kheta or Hittites were a Mongolic people, speaking what is called an “agglutinative” language, which was, I believe, akin to the Turkic dialects.[46]They were thus related to that ancient race of Chaldea and Media which, through the labours of Sir Henry Rawlinson and of Dr. Oppert, and their disciples of the second generation, has been so wonderfully demonstrated to have produced the existing population of Central Asia and of the Turkish hordes which spread over Asia Minor. The hieroglyphics found at Hamath, a day’s journey north of Emesa, are the same characters now known in many parts of Asia Minor, and of which examples occur even in Nineveh and at Babylon.
Our troubles were all before us. The Wâli of Syria caused us to be privately told that he must forbid any exploration under the old firman. The Druzes were in rebellion, and the Hauran, which I had intended first to enter, was surrounded by a cordon which we could notpass. Moving southwards, I found the Belka governor, who lives at Nâblus, equally firm. The word had been sent all over Syria. Moreover, the great Arab tribes of the Belka were at war, and the Adwân had just killed a chief of the Beni Sakhr. I soon found that we were watched by spies, and, moreover, that the Turkish power east of Jordan had been so much strengthened since the time when Sir Charles Warren visited Moab, that it was very hard to find an Arab chief independent of the Turks with whom to treat. I felt that the lives and safety of my party rested on my decision, and that while subscribers at home were eager for results, the question of putting my followers in peril rested on my shoulders.
There was another consideration which also weighed with me. Imprudent action and an open breach with the Government of the country might not only endanger our safety and entirely stop our work, but it might also close the doors for many years on Palestine explorers.
After patient waiting, however, during several months, which were fully employed in visiting places of interest only imperfectly described before, fortune at length favoured us for a while. The quarrels of the Arabs were settled, and I found at last a sturdy Arab chief of the old school, regarded by the Turks as a rebel, but powerful and respected over a large area east of Jordan, and willing to escort us. I was thus able to carry out the wishes of those at home and to start the Eastern Survey. It was not difficult, by leaving the greater part of my camp standing west of Jerusalem, to give the Turkish spies the slip. A regular treaty with Goblan, the aged Adwân chief, was signed. WithLieutenant Mantell I crossed Jordan, and finding that no active steps were taken by the Government, I sent for the rest of the expedition. For two anxious months we laboured at very high pressure; and after measuring our base-line and connecting our triangulation with that west of the river, we worked over five hundred square miles in detail.
I had quite hoped that, though not recognised, we might be tolerated in the country, and I believe we might have worked still longer—for I doubt if the Turks at all knew where we were gone—but that there was an adverse influence of some kind at work. Whether it was the jealousy of the Beni Sakhr, or whether some political counter-current existed, I was unable to find out. The Beni Sakhr had certainly seemed friendly. We had already subsidised them, and they expected us soon to work in their country, and to pay them handsomely for escort. No means that I could think of was neglected to interest all who could help in our peaceful and rapid progress. Yet suddenly the whole plan was spoilt by the extraordinary action of the Beni Sakhr chiefs. I am not aware that they are conspicuous for devotion to Turkish interests, though certainly they hated Goblân, with whom they had a blood-feud and whose life they sought. Whatever their reason, they went out of their way to draw attention to our presence. The Haj, conducted by the famous Kurdish Pasha, Muhammad Said of Damascus, was on its way through Moab to Mecca. To this Pasha they pointed out that English captains were measuring the land, and he only did his duty when he at once ordered us to be stopped, and telegraphed to Damascus, whence the news was sent to the Sultan. The governor of theBelka was reprimanded, and he in turn came down on the governor of Es Salt. Yet even after this we were able to extend the work over a considerable area, and only recrossed Jordan in time to escape from the winter storms or from being cut off by the flooding of the river. It was in the same year that Mr. Rassam’s researches in Mesopotamia were stopped, and no important or extensive explorations have since that date been possible in the Turkish dominions.
We could not blame the Turks for their action. They had every reason to be jealous and suspicious at a time when the war in Egypt was brewing, when Cyprus had been handed over and Tunis annexed, and when Russian political emissaries were, I believe, actually exploring Northern Syria. It was not likely that the Sultan or his advisers would discriminate closely between antiquarian work and political intrigue, especially as our explorations were not likely to put much money in the treasury. It had been my wish to go to Constantinople, and to place the matter fully before the Sultan, before attempting to begin the work; but when I was instructed to go to the capital, after our irregular proceedings had been peremptorily stopped, it was with a bad grace that I was forced to ask for regular authorisation, which, though promised, has not yet been granted.
In spite of all difficulties, a substantial bit of work was done—about an eighth of the total proposed—and we came back from the desert with our hands full of valuable results. I believe that but for the Beni Sakhr, or their unknown instigators, we might, through Turkish good-nature, have been allowed to work for some time longer. As it was, I revisited Moab and Gilead nextyear, through the kindness of our Royal Princes, and thus have seen nearly all the country east of Jordan except Bashan, on which I have only looked from a distance. Finally, we left Syria on a steamer crowded with refugees from the Alexandrian massacres; and Lieutenant Mantell and I had hardly been six weeks in England when we were ordered to Egypt on active service.
Since that date I have been in two campaigns, serving on the staff at Tell-el-Kebir, and laying down the west border of the Transvaal in South Africa; yet I can look back on no more anxious time than the weeks we spent in surveying Moab. Surrounded with lawless Arabs: roused almost every night, at times, by the attacks of thieves bent on stealing the horses on which we so much reckoned; having nothing on which to trust but the unproved loyalty of our old guide, Sheikh Goblan, whose life was in constant danger from his blood-foes on the south, and his liberty from the Turks, who had often tried to catch him, on the north; placed in opposition to the Turkish Government and disowned by the British,—we felt that a disaster might any day occur which might endanger the lives of brave comrades who had ventured to follow, but who certainly were alive to the perils of our position. I write these lines not to exaggerate those dangers, for Goblan was trusty and our relations with the Arabs were excellent, but to show how difficult it was to carry through even that small portion of the great task which we completed, and how utterly impossible it was to do any more.
The stoppage of the work was a great disappointment to us all; but I can only feel thankful that no accident marred our success, and that the sum banked in Syriato pay ransom in case of our being imprisoned, like Dr. Tristram in Kerak, or kidnapped by the wild Anazeh to the east, who could have brought many armed horsemen against our little band of fifteen, was never called into use.
enlarge-imageMOAB MOUNTAINS FROM THE PLAIN OF SHITTIM.MOAB MOUNTAINS FROM THE PLAIN OF SHITTIM.
Crossing the Jordan, and traversing the plain of Shittim, we ascended the great sandstone spurs to camp by the Brook of Heshbon. Thence we afterwards went south, camping in the wild ravine of Wâdy Jideid, inside the curious Hadânieh circle, and again farther south, near the brink of the gorge of Callirrhoe. A rapid countermarch, which put the Turks at fault, took us thence northwards to Rabbath Ammon in Gilead.
The most remarkable feature of our work was thesystematic examination of the rude stone monuments, of which we catalogued some seven hundred in all. They were known to exist east of Jordan, but it was not, I think, expected that they would prove more numerous in this region than anywhere else except in Tunis; and the contrast with their absence in Western Palestine is very remarkable.[47]
Rude stone monuments are found in many parts of Asia, in Europe, and in North Africa. They occur from Norway to Tunis, and from India to Ireland, and they still present many curious problems to the antiquarian. These questions have been complicated by the utilitarian suggestions of writers, who ignore the folk-lore which is so closely interwoven with the history of these remains. It appears, I think, clear, first, that the rude stone monuments are of very high antiquity, having probably been erected in most, if not in all cases, by the early Turanians, who in Asia, North Africa, and Europe preceded the Aryans and the Semites, and who are called by modern students Iberians even in our own islands; and, secondly, that no study of these remains can be considered complete which ignores the beliefs concerning them surviving among the peasant populations of the regions where they occur.
Rude stone monuments are known in Arabia, and have been found near Lake Van and in Persia, in the Crimea and east of the Black Sea. They occur in Greece, in Cyprus, and in Phœnicia. There is, therefore, no reason for surprise at their discovery in Galilee, in Bashan, Gilead, and Moab. The only curious fact is their absence in Samaria and in Judea. There are somepeculiarities, such as the occurrence of orientated avenues, of talyots or bilithons, of single stones outside circles, and of ring-marks on rocks, familiar in our own land, but not as yet noted in Syria. I confine my remarks, therefore, to the Syrian remains, includingMenhirs, or erect stones, whether single or in groups, circles or alignments;Dolmens, or monuments with a flat stone table;Stone Circles,Disc Stones, andCup-hollows, all of which are exemplified in Moab.
enlarge-imageA DOLMEN WEST OF HESHBON.A DOLMEN WEST OF HESHBON.
It is clear that a stone may be placed on end for more than one purpose, though that purpose is generally monumental. Some enormous stones near ’Ammân,I believe, marked boundaries. Standing-stones have also been used to record events, like the Moabite Stone or the modern gravestone. Stones and stone pillars, or even cairns and heaps, have been used as memorials of a visit to some shrine, and are still so used. Other erect stones in Greece, in Chaldea, in Phœnicia, and in India are idols and lingams, worshipped as containing a spirit. In every case the explorer must consider the most probable reason for the erection of the stone. In Greece such stones—afterwards sculptured as terminal figures—marked boundaries, or were sacred emblems. Such boundary-stones occur also in Babylonia, and sacred stones are also mentioned in Chaldean temples. Jacob and Saul and other Hebrew heroes erected such memorials, and the pagan Arabs bedaubed them with blood, and offered to them their babes and daughters, and swore by them as sacred emblems.
In some cases burial at the foot of such a stone may possibly mark a human sacrifice, as, for instance, at Place Farm, in Wiltshire, where a skeleton was found by amenhirin the centre of a circle; but no sepulchral remains are found by or under the majority of these monuments. In all countries where they occur they are remarkable for a rounded or pointed top, which resembles that of later obelisks. In India the lingam stones are worshipped, and peasants rub against them. In some rural districts maidens lean against them, expecting to see a future husband. Marriages were often celebrated by such stones. The Greystone, by the Tweed, witnessed marriages, where bride and bridegroom joined hands through a hole in the stone. Oaths were sworn at these stones in France to a late date; and the oath of Woden was sworn by men who joined hands throughthe stone. In Sardinia great stones with holes occur at the tombs called Giants’ Graves, and also form the entrance to a circle calledcuisses de femme. I have never found such holed stones in Syria, but a pair occur in Cyprus, which I think, from their size, not likely to have belonged, as some suppose, to an oil-press.
These standing-stones were often anointed with oil, with blood, or with milk. Libations of milk were poured through a stone in the Western Isles. Alexander anointed with oil the pillar on the grave of Achilles, as Jacob anointed the stone of Bethel, or as the Arabs smeared theiransâbwith blood. The lingam stones in India are still anointed with ghee, and stone circles are splashed with blood. In Aberdeenshire water was believed to spring from a hollow in the top of a sacred stone; in Brittany themenhirswere believed to go to the river to drink. Such monuments are also wishing-stones, such as Dhu esh Sher’a, a black stone at Petra, or the Hajr el Mena (“stone of desire”), which we found in Moab. To some prayers for rain have been offered. Bretonmenhirs, and others in India and in Somersetshire, are said to represent wedding-parties turned to stone; others in the Khassia Hills are adored as ancestors by tribes which burn the dead. The stones of Allât, ’Azzi, and Hobal at Taif—still shown—were once adored as deities by Arabs, as were those of Asaf, and Naila, and Khalisah near Mecca.
Such instances out of many which have been collected show that the idea of a “Holy Stone” is no theorist’s dream. Those who see in these monuments only gravestones or boundary-marks have not fully studied the facts of the case.
One curious feature of such stones I have not seen noticed. In Gilead I found a fallenmenhirwith a hollow artificially made in the side, as though to put something into the stone. At Kit’s Cotty-house I found similar holes in the side stones. At Stonehenge I found them in some instances even larger. No doubt many other cases are known.[48]The holes are not water-worn, but have been rubbed as though by fingers or arms thrust constantly into the stone. They are not lewis holes, and they were made after the stones were erected. Probably they were enlarged, like the hole in the pillar at the Church of St. Sophia in Constantinople, by countless visitors putting their fingers into the same hole.
The great alignments of Brittany and of Dartmoor are well known, though the reason for their erection is doubtful. In Moab I found one place where such a collection of standing-stones exists. It is called El Mareighât, “the smeared things,” and stands on the plateau north of the great valley of Callirrhoe. There is a rude circle ofmenhirsat the site, with a trilithon or dolmen on one side. It surrounds a knoll on which is a group ofmenhirs, the tallest being six feet high. To the east is a largemenhir, which has been hewn to a rounded head and grooved horizontally, and between this and the circle is an alignment consisting of several rows of shortermenhirs, running north and south. Thehills close by are covered with fine specimens of dolmens, many of which I measured.
It is impossible to regard this monument as sepulchral. The stones stand, like many in India and elsewhere, on the bare rock. The circle resembles many found in other lands; and the wild tribes of Western India still sacrifice a cock at such circles, smearing the stones with its blood; while the Khonds adore the sun in similar circles, the tallestmenhirbeing on the east. In Mecca, the Kaabah was once surrounded by seven such stones, which also were smeared with blood. I believe the Mareighât circle to be an ancient temple, and the dolmen which faces the central group on the west to be probably an altar facing the sun rising behind the stones, while the alignments appear to consist of memorial stones erected by visitors to the shrine—just as the Moslem pilgrim still erects his stonemesh-hedor “memorial” in the neighbourhood of any shrine.
What has been said of erected stones ormenhirsequally applies to what are called dolmens in France, or cromlechs in England, namely, stone tables raised on other stones. Such monuments also may have been erected for many purposes—as huts, as tombs, and as altars. Any hasty generalisation will certainly fail to account for every case. Unfortunately, the great authority of the late Mr. Fergusson, and his wide acquaintance with such subjects, have led recent writers to neglect many important facts not mentioned in his works, and to speak of dolmens as ancient tombs with a degree of dogmatism which shows that their own researches have not been very widely extended. After examining seven hundred examples of these monuments in Moab and Gilead, Ihave come to the conclusion that the sepulchral theory is often quite untenable, though we cannot deny that such rude blocks were often piled up to form huge cists or chambers hidden beneath mounds, and intended to hold either the corpse or the ashes of the dead. Sepulchral chambers—dolmens, if you will—under mounds are widely found; but a trilithon on bare rock, not so covered, is clearly unfitted for a tomb, especially when it is not large enough to cover even the body of a child. Moreover, the stone table is sometimes supported by flat stones on the rock; and observers who have found bones under dolmens have not always proved that they are original interments. Nothing is more indestructible than an earthen mound, and in many cases in Moab it was certain that no mound had ever covered the stones. There was nothing but hard rock to be found, and no cairn had ever existed to fulfil the purpose of a mound.
Again, I say, we must turn to local superstitions in order fully to understand the use of trilithons and dolmens. Wild as are the legends, they preserve what was once the religion of the dolmen-building tribes. In the Talmud we find mention of such a monument as connected with idolatrous worship in the second centuryA.D., the trilithon being in this case placed in front of amenhir.[49]In 1872 I found such a monument on Gilboa, and another example has since been found in Bashan, while a similar combination is also known in one instance in Sweden. At the temple of Demeter in Arcadia, Pausanias mentions a trilithon called the Petroma, by which the Greeks swore, and under which they kept acertain sacred book, which was yearly read by a priest. At Larnaca, in Cyprus, a dolmen is said to exist in a chapel, and in Spain one is found in the crypt of a Church of St. Miguel in the Asturias, and another in a hermitage.[50]The modern Arabs beyond Jordan use miniature dolmens, generally on the west side of the circles round the graves of their chiefs, as little tables on which to place offerings to the spirits of the dead.
Dolmens are also connected with the old ceremony of “passing through,” which is observed in India as well as in our own islands. St. Willibald, in the eighth century, speaks of Christians squeezing between two pillars in the church on Olivet; and as late as 1881 the Moslems in Jerusalem squeezed between two pillars in the Aksa Mosque. Near Madras, the Hindus used to crawl through the hole in a sacred rock. In Ripon Cathedral, “threading the needle” was a similar rite. Children were also passed through ash and oak trees, and through hoops, or dragged through holes in the ground and under door-sills. At Craig Mady, in Stirlingshire, the newly wedded used to crawl through a dolmen.[51]In the Jordan Valley, near the Jabbok, and again in Bashan,dolmens exist having a hole in the end-stone, and many are surrounded by a circle of stones in both districts, as also were some Celtic dolmens. On the dolmens in Ireland, called “beds of Diarmed and Grain,” youths and girls used to deposit gifts of corn and of flowers. The Cyprus girls, according to Cesnola, in like manner visit themenhirspierced with holes, and place in them offerings of jewellery, lighting candles before them,—which illustrates a previous remark as to these holes in the stones. There is a curious monument in the Jordan Valley, with a stone hollowed into a sort of arch a yard in diameter, through which it would be easy to crawl. From such notes it is clear that dolmens are intimately connected with ancient superstitious practices. The crawling through was always believed either to cure sickness or to ensure good fortune, and the dolmen has often been used as an altar.
After making measured drawings of about a hundred and fifty dolmens in Moab, I was able to obtain some general results. In some cases the top stone is raised only a foot from the ground, and in others the trilithon is so small that it would not serve as anything but a table or seat. Some examples on the hillsides consisted of a table stone resting on the rock at one end, and on a single side stone at the other. In others the table was supported by horizontal stones. In most cases it was slightly tilted, and in very few were the stones even roughly hewn in shape. Not only could we never find any trace of sepulture, or of a grave beneath, but often the size precluded the idea that the dolmen could have been either a hut or a tomb. In other cases a sort of box was formed which could have held a body, but it was not covered by any mound. Thegeneral purpose seemed clearly to be the production of a flat table-like surface.
It may, however, appear strange that if these dolmens occur in such numbers at one site, they should be regarded as altars;[52]but we must not forget the story of Balaam and Balak. Visiting in succession three mountain-tops, whence the enchanter was bid to curse Israel, he addresses Balak in each case in the words, “Build me here seven altars.” And on each of these mountains we found groups of dolmen still standing.
A curious circumstance in connection with dolmens is that they usually occur near springs and streams. The groups in Moab were all so placed, just as Kit’s Cotty-house stands near the Medway, or Stonehenge above the Avon, or like the dolmen near a sacred spring in Finisterre.Menhirsalso, as we have seen, are similarly connected with water and with rain.
There is, perhaps, a simple reason for this circumstance. Stonehenge was near a British village, and the rude tribes which built the dolmens no doubt, like all early migrants, settled round the natural waters of the country. But it is also not impossible that water was required in connection with rites at the dolmen altars.
Another very interesting observation was the occurrence of cup-hollows—artificial pittings, in some cases connected by well-marked artificial ducts or channels—in the table stones of the dolmens. These cup-hollows were, in some cases, quite as well formed as any that I have seen in England. I found one very unmistakable example on the Holy Rock on Mount Gerizim, where, it is said, by the Samaritans, to mark the site of the laver in the court of the Tabernacle.
I am not aware that any accepted theory has been formed about these hollows;[53]but they are often found on high tops and on or near dolmens. We must not forget that wild tribes of Asia and of Europe have always attached great virtue to the healing power of dew, especially the dews of spring-time. Perhaps dew may have been collected in these hollows and used for superstitious rites.
Two other classes of rude stone structures in Moab have still to be mentioned. The first of these is the class of great circles with walls made by heaps of stones piled up like cairns. These I have never found elsewhere, though they recall the earthen mounds which form circles in England, sometimes surrounding menhirs or dolmens, and sometimes I believe used as meeting-places or courts of justice. A splendid specimen occurs on a spur at Hadânieh above a great spring on the slopes near Mount Nebo. Inside this circle, as a precaution against thieves, I set up my whole camp and stabled my horses. Hadânieh means “sepulture,” and a small circle outside thegreat structure here surrounds the grave of an Arab chief. The great circle is 250 feet across, the walls are thirty to forty feet thick and some five feet high, and a smaller wall inside divides the area unequally. There is an enormous cairn on the hill above about three-quarters of a mile away on the east.
Another circle of equal size was found by Lieutenant Mantell on the south slope of Mount Nebo, and east of ’Ammân two more about sixty feet in diameter. Yet another occurs at Kom Yajuz, measuring 200 feet across, and we visited two others of nearly the same size. To one of these the name El Mahder applies, which is radically the same word as Hazor, “the enclosure.” There is nothing to show the age or object of these works, which must have entailed considerable labour, as they are so much larger than the circles of stones which the Arabs now build up round the graves of their chiefs.
The last class of monuments consists of great disc stones, which resemble mill-stones, but are much too large to be used for such a purpose. One of these, in the Jordan Valley, lies flat, like a mighty cheese, by a thorn tree, and measures eleven feet across. It is called “the dish of Abu Zeid,” an Arab legendary hero, who is said to have heaped it with rice and with a whole camel as a feast to his allies. It weighs probably some twenty tons. Another example stands on end in a ruined village, and is 9½ feet in diameter. A third, on a prominent hill, surrounded by dolmens, also stands up like a wheel, and is six feet across, without any hole in the centre.
The origin of these monuments is also very uncertain, but we must not forget that one of the towns of Moabmentioned on the Moabite Stone and in the Bible was called Beth Diblathaim, which means “the house of the two discs” (or “cakes”). Mill-stones are common enough in Syrian ruins, as are the pillars of olive-presses, but no explorer who is familiar with these is likely to confound them with the greatmenhirsand disc stones which have been here described.
Such were the monuments which we discovered and described east of Jordan, and I have only to add a few words on the important questions of their age and distribution.
As regards age, these monuments—dolmensandmenhirs—were erected apparently by a people who had little mechanical power. Very rarely are the stones shaped, however roughly, and the dolmens are hardly ever on hill-tops, but on slopes where they might be easily formed by dragging the stones down-hill, and sliding the cap-stones on to their supports. Probably the people that erected them was unable to sculpture or to write. In other countries such monuments are of high antiquity, and there is no reason why they should not be very ancient in Syria.
As regards distribution, these monuments are absent in Judea and Samaria. There is one example on Gilboa, and five or six in Upper Galilee, one of which is called “the stone of blood.” I have seen near Jeba, north of Jerusalem, what might be a fallen dolmen, and have found what might be cup-hollows, but more probably these were mortars scooped in the rock in which gleanings of the fields were crushed. East of Jordan there are such hollows, used for making gunpowder, not connected with dolmens. The surveyors, who found so many dolmens in Moab, found none at all south ofGalilee. In Moab, Gilead, and Bashan they are more numerous than anywhere else in Western Asia, as at present known.
In a previous chapter I have noticed that pottery statuettes, found in abundance in Phœnicia, are almost unknown in Palestine proper, and have suggested the reason. The same reason holds good, perhaps, as regards the rude stone monuments. They may very probably have once existed, and may have been purposely destroyed. Israel was commanded to “smash” themenhirsof the Canaanites, to “upset” their altars, and to destroy their images. These commands Josiah, the zealous king of Judah, is recorded to have carried into practice. May not this, I would ask, be the true reason for their disappearance? The Greeks and the Romans would not have so acted, and dolmens still stand close to the Roman city of ’Ammân. The Arabs, who left them east of Jordan, and who regard them as “ghouls’ houses,” would not have destroyed them west of the river. Josiah and Hezekiah did not penetrate beyond Jordan. At Dan many of these monuments seem to have been purposely overthrown. It seems to me therefore probable that the absence of such monuments, like the absence of sculptures and of pottery images, is best explained by supposing their destruction in the time of the reforming kings of Judah. It seems to me also that the existing monuments, though not impossibly erected by Nabatheans or other pagan Arabs, are very probably the surviving work of Canaanite tribes, as are very certainly the hieroglyphic inscriptions of Northern Syria. The age so claimed for these remains is not equal to that of some of the monuments of Egypt and of Chaldea, which represent a more advanced civilisation, and the presenceof dolmens on the slopes of Nebo cannot but recall the altars which Balak, king of Moab, is said to have erected on that mountain.[54]
The ruins of the cities of Heshbon and Medeba are those of Roman towns with later Byzantine additions. At Medeba there was a fine church, of which only foundations remain. Here the Jesuit Fathers claimed to have discovered four ancient Nabathean inscriptions, which I afterwards copied in Jerusalem; but I regret to say that learned opinion regards these as forgeries. Such texts should be found in Moab, and Sir Charles Warren obtained a copy of one said to exist farther south. At present, however, the Moabite Stone is the only important inscription from this region. It was found accidentally by a missionary, just as the Siloam text was discovered by a Jewish boy. Even of this monument the genuineness has been questioned by a learned writer, but his reasons seem to be insufficient. He says that the letters are much sharper than the water-worn surface of the stone, and hence argues that they were carved by the forger on an old cippus. My experience in respect to a very large number of ancient texts which I have copied is that the letters are generally better preserved than the surface. They get filled with mud, and are thus guarded against the weather, which wears the surface in which they are cut.
enlarge-imageVIEW OF DEAD SEA FROM MOUNT NEBO.VIEW OF DEAD SEA FROM MOUNT NEBO.
There is one famous spot in Moab which requires special notice, namely, Mount Nebo, whence Moses is recorded to have gazed on the Promised Land. The celebrated “Pisgah view” has often been described, but some writers seem to have given accounts not based on notes taken on the spot. The value of all geographical descriptions depends on their being written with the scene before the eyes of the writer, for memory plays strange tricks, and in the present case accuracy is of the greatest importance. I not only made detailed notes sitting on the ruined cairn on Nebo, but I also drew an outline of the panorama which is preserved in my note-book. The most important fact is that the Mediterranean Sea is not in sight; and as the heights of Nebo and of the chief tops of the western watershed are now certainly known within four or five feet, it is possible to say with certainty that the Great Sea is invisible from Nebo, because it is hidden throughout by thewestern watershed of Judea and Samaria.[55]We had the advantage of being familiar with every hill-top in sight, and, moreover, saw the view in clear weather.
Mount Nebo is a site fixed beyond dispute. It retains the name Neba, which applies to the highest knoll on a long spur running out west from the plateau between Heshbon and Medeba. As already noted, there are traces of a ring of dolmens round the knoll, and it is curious that none of these particular examples are mentioned in any previous account of the site, as far as I can find. Lower down on the ridge is the ruin Siaghah, preserving the name Seath, which stands instead of Nebo in the Targum of Onkelos. To the north are the “Springs of Moses,” of which we have perhaps an early account in the sixth century. Antoninus the pilgrim says that certain hot springs called “Baths of Moses,” where lepers were cleansed, existed east of Jordan.[56]The plateau close to the Nebo knoll is called “Field of Zophim” in the Bible, and the name, I think, still survives close by in the Tal’at es Sufa, or “Ascent of Zoph,” on the north side of the spur. The view from the knoll or from the ruin of Siaghah is much the same. It cannot compare with the panorama from Hermon, and there are indeed several places east of Jordan which command a finer view; but Nebo is the nearest mountain to Shittim in the Jordan Valley, from which an extensive view is visible.
On the east the eye is met at a distance of only two miles by the edge of the Moab plateau, which shelvesaway eastward; and on the south a long ridge closes the scene at a distance of about five miles. On the north-east the hillocks on which Heshbon and Elealah were built stand above the plateau, and Jebel Osh’a in Gilead appears behind, shutting out the Sea of Galilee and Hermon. It is on the west that the scene is most extensive, including all the Judean watershed, all Samaria and Lower Galilee, to Tabor and Belvoir. Carmel is hidden behind Jebel Hazkin, which is close to the Jordan Valley, and 700 feet higher than Carmel.
On the south-west is Yukin, the city of the Kenites, perched high above the Jeshimon or desert of Judah, and in front of the great precipices of that desert lies the Dead Sea, of which the northern half only is seen. Herodium, Bethlehem, and Jerusalem are all in sight, and beneath are the traditional tomb of Moses—in the desert of Judah—the precipice of Quarantania, and below this the dark groves round ancient Jericho.
North of Jerusalem is seen Nebi Samwil with the mosque over the Crusading tomb of Samuel, and Baal Hazor with its oak clump, and Gerizim with Ebal to the right, and the deep cleft of the Vale of Shechem between them. Under these is the white cone of the Sartaba towering over the Jordan Valley, and at our feet the thorn groves of the plain of Shittim east of the river. To the north-west appear Hazkin and Tabor, as already noticed; and the chain of Gilboa with the dim outline of Galilean hills marks the farthest extent of the view. Seen in autumn, the whole was singularly bare and colourless, for the green hues of spring were absent, and the dusty valley of Jordan, with the white marl banks near theriver, contrasted with the black snake-like jungles marking the course of the stream and of the various tributaries, such as the waters of Nimrim.
The view thus described appears to be in accordance with the Old Testament account (Deut. xxxiv. 1-3), and the eastern geography of the Pentateuch is as easy generally to trace on the ground as is the topography of the Book of Joshua west of the river. Naphtali, Gilead, Ephraim and Manasseh, Judah, and the Negeb, or “dry land” south of Hebron, are all in sight, with the plains of Jericho “unto Zoar.” The only difficulty lies in the mention of Dan and of the western sea, which are not in sight from this ridge.
The south limit of the Adwân country and of the Survey was formed by the magnificent gorge now called Zerka Main, the Callirrhoe of Josephus, where are the hot baths in which the miserable Herod was bathed during his last sickness. This valley seems to be noticed in the Pentateuch under the name Nahaliel, “Valley of God,” as one of the camping-places of Israel. The top of the cliffs is here 2500 feet above the Dead Sea, and the hot springs in the valley are 1600 feet above the same level. The cliffs, 900 feet high, are precipitous for the most part, but a winding descent leads down on the north. The scenery is magnificent. A black basalt bastion and brown limestone walls of rock face northwards, and on the north side are precipices of yellow, red, pink, and purple sandstone, with gleaming chalk above and the rich green of palm groves beneath. The hot streams flowing from the northern slopes are crusted along their course with yellow and orange sulphur deposits, and the hottest spring—about 140° Fahr.—has formed a breccia terrace near the remains of the Roman baths,a hundred feet above the bed of the torrent, which flows with cold water from springs higher up the valley. The Arabs still bathe, or rather steam themselves, sitting over this spring, to cure rheumatism, from which they often suffer. They have a legend of a demon slave of Solomon who found the spring, and Dr. Tristram mentions sacrifices at the spot, which—though I did not see any such performed—would be in accordance with Arab custom in other places in the deserts.
We found a great contrast between the Arabs and the Fellahin in the matter of folk-lore. The Fellah legends are, as a rule, of very little interest, and most of those which we collected are to be found in the Korân. But all the desert Arabs with whom I am acquainted are only in name Mohammedan, and are, strictly speaking, pagans; and they are very fond of legendary tales, so that we collected more of these in two months east of Jordan than we got in four years west of the river. I have devoted a chapter in a previous work to the legends which we collected in the Adwân country, including the story of Aly and the wishing well of Minyeh, which sprang up under his spear; of Aly and the city of Antar; of Aly and the City of Brass. The romantic tale of Zeid and Ghareisah, an Arab Romeo and Juliet, is connected with a rude inscription in Wâdy Jideid. The story of the “Dish of Abu Zeid” has already been mentioned; and at the ruin of Tyrus, farther north, we have the legend of the prince, his daughter, and the black slave. At a place near El Marighât called Hana wa Bana is localised an Arab version of Æsop’s fable of the man with an old and a young wife. This proverbial story is, however, known all over Syria. Then again in the Jordan Valleyare shown the pits of the hero Zîr, legends concerning whom are known to the Maronites, but taken from printed story-books, which, I believe, come from Egypt. I would here only note that within a comparatively small district we collected from the Arabs no less than eight folk-lore tales in a few weeks, only one of which was previously known, and that one gathered from the Abu Nuseir Arabs at Jericho. The Arabs showed no reserve in relating these stories as soon as they saw that we also enjoyed them; and none of them, as far as I know, belong to the printed tales of Egyptian collections, except that of Zîr and Hakmun. This wealth of folk-tales contrasts with the barrenness of Fellah imagination; and though it is of course possible that something of interest may be extracted from the Fellahin, they cannot be said to be remarkable for their love of legendary tales. The Kalmuk Tartars, even, are far more imaginative and poetic in their folk-lore than are the peasants west of Jordan, and the Arabs, who produced so many poets, even earlier than Muhammad, are intellectually a finer race than the Fellahin.
As above observed, the Arabs of the desert are practically pagans. They do not pray as Moslems should do, and they are as much addicted to the worship of the dead as the Fellahin. The graves of famous chiefs and of dervishes, or reputed Welys, are visited by the Arabs, who there offer small objects, such as pieces of blue pottery, old coins, berries, and pebbles, placed on the little dolmen table on the west side of the surrounding circle. The wives cut off their hair, and the plaited pig-tails are hung on a string on the husband’s tomb. An Arab passing by a graveyard often kisses the tombstones. This seems to constitute their chief religious observance. They,however, celebrate the yearly feast while the Moslem pilgrims are at Mecca, slaying camels and eating the flesh; but this feast was an Arab festival long before Islam, and, as far as my experience goes, the true Arabs are ignorant of the Korân, and have no fanatical feeling. I have never actually seen them worshipping the sun or the moon, but they face the sunrise while visiting the tombs, and their frequent legends of Aly agree with the fact that down to the present century they belonged to the great faction of the Yemeni, as opposed to the Keis faction, to which the greater part of the villagers west of Jordan belonged. These factions represent the survival of a political feud as old as the seventh centuryA.D.between the adherents of Aly, including most of the Yemen Arabs, and the followers of the Damascus Khalifs. The Arabs east of Jordan are thus connected with Persia rather than with Palestine, and it was from Persia that all the most imaginative elements in the religion of Islam came first. Persian Muhammadism is the creed of Islam as influenced by the older creed of the Zoroastrians. Syrian Muhammadism is the creed of Islam as influenced by association with Christianity and Judaism.
The tribes among which we lived were very rich in camels. The droves were really countless, and were herded like cattle, and neither saddled nor fitted with halters. They were kept for milk and for breeding, not for transport, and the camel so seen east of Jordan was a different beast to his hard-worked brother in the villages. Property in this case depended on branding, and the brands were the tribe-marks of the owner’s tribe. I had thus an opportunity of studying at leisure the question of tribe-marks, concerning which most extraordinarytheories have been broached, one writer regarding them as planetary signs, and another as rough sketches of totems. Of that which (by an unlucky misnomer) is called Totemism, I have never been able to find any traces in Syria, though I have studied it among the Bechuanas of South Africa. The simple fact as regards Arab tribe-marks is, that they are letters of the old Arab alphabets of the Nejed and of Yemen. This I have been able clearly to show in the case of every tribe-mark which we collected among the Arabs.
In closing this chapter, I ought to record the services of our ally, Sheikh Goblan en Nimr. His early adventures are well known, and he was one of the most remarkable men whom I met in Syria. He belonged to the junior branch, but to the elder generation, of the Adwân tribe, which is divided under two ruling families. Aly Diab, the ruling chief of the elder branch, is a friend of the Turks, but Goblan was a sturdy and independent leader of the free or anti-Turkish party. So strong were his feelings on this subject, that he could hardly hear the name of Turk with any patience. This strong feeling made him perhaps the most popular personage beyond Jordan, and wherever we went the tribesmen received him with marks of reverence and affection. He had earned the reputation of being greedy and grasping, and I have no doubt he regarded every stranger as fair prey, from whom the uttermost farthing was to be exacted. But in spite of this greed for money, which all Arabs alike show in dealing with travellers, Goblan was not a miser. The gold I gave him was scattered with royal munificence, and was gone as soon as he got it. There was very much in his character which was admirable, and yet more that wasromantic. He was a man of honour, who having once sealed a treaty, stuck to his word, and smoothed our path when many even of his own sons and nephews were afraid to come near us. There is no doubt that if, instead of science, our object had been intrigue, we might without difficulty have raised a revolt in Moab, which Goblan would have headed with great satisfaction. At one time I think he suspected us of some such project, and was rather disappointed that we should submit to Turkish authority.
In his youth Goblan received a serious sword-cut in the face from an angry relative. The details of the story I have not heard, but it is well known how ashamed he was of this wound, which he always hid with his Kufeyeh shawl. He had also been guilty of murder, having run through with his lance the owner of a fine grey mare in the desert. He was, I believe, unaware that the man he slew was one of the Beni Sakhr chiefs, but the consequence was a blood feud which threatened his life for many years. Thus on the south and east he was in peril from the neighbouring tribesmen, while on the north the Turks lay in wait.
Some years before our visit to the country, a governor of the Belka summoned the Adwân chiefs to Nâblus, promising to make them Government officials with salaries, recognised as his lieutenants in their own country. Goblan counselled them not to go, and not to be tempted by such promises. They went and Goblan stayed behind. Those who went were cast into prison and fined, and Diab, the eldest, was so roughly handled that his leg was broken. He came to see me as a lame old man, who had abdicated in favour of his son, havinglost all the reputation to which Goblan, by his superior judgment of the case, attained. A Russian Grand Duke at Jericho gave Goblan, rather later, a valuable ring, which this same governor at Nâblus found means to make him give up. These were the personal reasons for Goblan’s hate of the Turks, and it was on such grounds that he was able and willing to help us in our exploration of the forbidden ground. These lines can now be freely penned, for poor Goblan is no more. His wild life—an untaught savage life, not without its elements of greatness, of pathos, and of romance—has closed at a ripe old age in a peaceful death. Neither by Turkish jailor nor by Arab lance was his life ended; he died among his own people in the desert home of his race.
The peculiar position of the man led me into more than one adventure. Some of our trigonometrical stations were on the border of the Beni Sakhr country, which I had promised not to enter without their escort. The Beni Sakhr chiefs and Goblan had met in my tents, but there he was safe as my guest. Had we been caught, however, in their land, by a relation of the murdered man already mentioned, Goblan would have been slain, and I should have been placed in the dilemma of either leaving him to his fate, or else myself becoming a blood enemy to an Arab tribe. On such occasions, while we took angles on a high hill, Goblan sat with his eyes fixed on the distant camp of his foes, scanning the plateau, so that he should not be taken unawares. On another occasion, riding somewhat in advance of my party, I suddenly saw bearing down upon me a group of horsemen with long spears. We met and saluted, and the first question was, “Where is Goblan?” I never made out towhat tribe these cavaliers belonged, but Goblan had vanished as though swallowed by the earth, and not till we were far away from this spot, near his own camp, did he reappear.
Another day he and I went out alone to survey the borderland between the two tribes. At one place, as I was taking angles, he came and pointed to distant figures. “All horsemen,” he said; “make haste and finish your work.” I noted my angles as fast as I could, when he again touched me. “They are only camels,” he said; “you can go on as long as you like.” However, as I got on my horse, he again pointed to the plain, where we saw three horsemen about a mile away. There were no friendly camps near, and so I gained experience of how an Arab acts in such a case. We rode away quietly on the side of the hill, where we could not be seen, but were able from time to time to look over the crest at the advancing figures. Finally, we came to a sort of dell by a ruin, with banks all round, and here we lay comfortably lurking, and saw the group following the road to my camp. When they had gone some way, Goblan boldly emerged, and we rode parallel with them in the open. The reason was soon apparent. Though quite near, they were separated from us by one of those great rents in the plateau which form narrow gorges many hundred feet deep. Coming to the brink, he called across and they answered, but could not reach us without riding round many miles; and besides this, we were now close to a camp of Goblan’s people. “It is well we did not stay,” said Goblan to me; “they are Satâm and his brothers.” These were the Beni Sakhr chiefs who had been to my camp, and who sought his life. Like David calling across the valley to Saul,Goblan stood thus within hearing of his helpless foes, and quietly greeted them. Such is the etiquette of Arab life. The blow may be struck when the time comes, but to revile one another would be discourteous between foes.