328 DEPARTURE FROM JERUSALEM. east of Esdraelon.-Gilboa.-Several Villages and Fountains.-Extent of the Plain of Esdraelon.-Its great Fertility.-Its Importance in a Military Point of View.-Mount Carmel.-Appearance of Mount Tabor.-Trees. -Ruins.-Bedouins and their Flocks.-Dance.-North Side of Tabor.Arrival at the Khan.-Disappointment.-Delay.-Route to Tiberias.— The Plain.-Its spontaneous Products.-Labah.-Soil of the Plain.-Its general Aspect.-Mount of Beatitudes.-Flourishing Agriculture.-The Sea of Galilee.-Splendid View.-Descent to Tiberias. JOURNEY FROM JERUSALEM TO BEYROUT. APRIL 27. This was the day fixed upon for leaving Jerusalem, and setting out for our place of embarcation upon the coast of the Mediterranean. Our party consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Catlitt, and Mr. Stukes, an English gentleman who had travelled with them from Cairo to Sinai and Jerusalem. We had engaged horses at, I think, fifteen piasters per diem, of a respectable Mohammedan, who was to have everything in readiness for our departure at ten o'clock A.M. It was more than an hour after the appointed time, when he sent his servant with some halt, poverty-stricken animals, which were evidently unfit for such a service. We protested, and remonstrated, and threatened in the usual manner, and at three o'clock P.M. had succeeded in effecting such changes as rendered it rather probable that we might prosecute our journey with only about the ordinary amount of delays and other annoyances. Passing out of the Damascus Gate, we took the road which leads from Jerusalem to Nablous, the ancient way from Jerusalem to Samaria. We passed over the broad plain or table-land so often mentioned in the preceding pages as lying north of the city, formerly embraced within Agrippa's wall, and occupied with habitations; now thinly planted with the finest olive-trees in this whole region, and mostly covered with small fields of stunted wheat, which was pinched with the drought and prematurely whitening to the harvest. D I have spoken elsewhere of the untoward circumstances under which I first entered the holy city. I now left it with emotions more profound—with a more lively regret than I have usually experienced on bidding adieu to places endeared to me by long residence and the strong ties of kindred and friendship. It was indeed painful to tear myself away from the sacred objects to whose power I had for several weeks so unreservedly yielded my imagination and my heart, and my thoughts still lingered upon Calvary and Olivet, and in the Garden of Gethsemane. Happy and swift were the hours spent in communion with these hallowed scenes, and deep and enduring the lineaments in which they have impressed their images and subduing associations upon my mind. I halted for a few moments upon Mount Scopus for a last view. By many travellers, this is thought the finest view of Jerusalem, and the peculiar circumstances of the occasion imparted to her turreted walls, and to the lofty domes and minarets that crown her venerable hills, as they were now seen by us over the intervening forest of olive-trees, a peculiar and melancholy charm. It was upon this commanding position that the legions of Titus obtained their first sight of the city, upon which they were soon to inflict so terrible a vengeance, and here they encamped to await the necessary preparations for commencing the siege. Here we bade adieu to the holy city, and proceeding by a rough and laborious way, passed the small village of Saffat, or Shaffat, situated a quarter of a mile or more from the road, upon the left. It was already half past four o'clock P.M., one hour and a half from our lodgings. A little farther east, upon a high elevation, and at one third of a mile to the right of the road, is a commanding ruin, probably of an ancient watch tower. It is much dilapidated, and has rather the appearance of an earthen mound rounded by falling rains than of a pile of masonry. We did not leave the road to examine it closely. Vast heaps of stones lie in different directions, which were evidently gathered out of the fields to facilitate the operations of the ancient husbandman. The ground is now occupied with many small patches of wheat, which, like all I have seen in this part of the country, is suffering severely for want of copious rain. At five o'clock we passed the ruins of some important edifice of apparent antiquity and great extent. It is near the road, upon the left. Several arches remain in a tolerably perfect state, and many more are broken and ruinous. This may have been a station for soldiers keeping guard upon this important approach to the capital, or, perhaps, only a khan for the accommodation of travellers. It would seem, however, that there could have been no occasion for an extensive khan so near the city. The next object that attracted our attention was an extensive ancient quarry close to the road, on the right, whence, probably, stone was taken for building the houses and walls of Jerusalem. I know not why building materials should have been carried so far, not less than seven or eight miles, over a region wholly composed of stone apparently of the same species, unless, perhaps, quarrying was found easier here than in the cliffs nearer the city. Ruined terraces and walls, which are seen upon the hillsides all the way from Jerusalem, leave no doubt that this region was formerly well cultivated by an industrious and numerous population. A few neglected olive-trees still find sustenance among the rocks. The valleys were extensively covered with wheat, and nothing is wanting but a dense, industrious population, and the protection of a good government, VILLAGE OF BEER. 331 to restore this rugged and forbidding portion of Palestine to the teeming fertility of which the numerous vestiges of its former flourishing agriculture show it to be susceptible. It was after dark when we encamped by the small village of Beer. A drizzling rain had set in ; the ground was covered with high grass, which retained the water, wetting our feet, beds, and baggage. We found it difficult to light our candles, and more so to keep them from being extinguished by the wind and rain while we pitched our tents, a work in which our new set of muleteers lent but unskilful and reluctant assistance. It was altogether such a return to the Bedouin life as was calculated to increase our regret at parting with the comforts and the friends we had so recently left behind us. April 28. The village of Beer, which we did not see till the morning, is poorly built of stone. The houses are very low, and have a forlorn and ruinous appearance. They may be one hundred and fifty in number. There are many indications of antiquity: massive stones built into the peasants' houses or lying upon the earth, half-buried walls and substructions, and mounds of rubbish. The walls and beautiful solid arches of a dilapidated church form the most conspicuous object in the place. It is commonly ascribed to Helena, and, from its sumptuousness and size, being thirty paces in length, it not improbably had its origin in her princely munificence. There is a tradition that Mary had proceeded so far on her homeward journey from Jerusalem when she discovered that the child Jesus had been left behind, and the church marks the spot where, in the fulness of a mother's feelings, she turned back in quest of him. Another ruinous pile was once a convent or khan. There is a beautiful and co 332 RAINS IN PALESTINE. pious fountain just west of the village, the finest, I think, that I have yet seen in this country. A little below is the ruin of a large, ancient reservoir, which formerly received its waters. A stone trough close by the spring now answers the purpose of watering the travellers' beasts and for the ablutions of the devout Mohammedans who are disposed to offer up their prayers in a sort of chapel which is adjacent. Beer derives its name from this fountain, and seems to have retained it from the earliest antiquity. It was to Beer that Jotham fled for safety after his celebrated speech to the Shechemites from the top of Mount Gerizim.* The rain had ceased, and the sky become clear during the night, and the morning air was so chill and piercing that I do not remember to have felt such intense cold during my sojourn in Palestine. I witnessed several brief but violent showers in Jerusalem, which usually, I think invariably, left the atmosphere at a low temperature, though a few hours of the following day never failed to restore what, to me, was something beyond a comfortable degree of heat. Rain seldom falls in any quantity after April, and travellers then engage in journeys or other outdoor enterprises with something like a certainty of meeting with no interruption from the weather. "Rain in harvest," which must occur here in four or five weeks from this time, is wholly unknown. The three or four months which follow the usual seedtime in this country, beginning commonly with November, supply by far the largest portion of the water, upon which the fields and the cisterns of Palestine are dependant for their year's supply. The grass upon the mountains, as well as almost every vestige of vegetation upon the lower grounds, |