Domestic Life in Palestine/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII.
LIFE IN HÂIFA.
The history of the Sekhali family has led me away from my own. I will return to the time when we hastened into our new house on account of the commencement of the Winter rains—Christmas, 1855.
On the 30th of December, after three days and nights of almost incessant rain, a bright, sunshiny afternoon tempted us out. We passed through the west gate, and the sudden change which had taken place in the appearance of the country surprised me exceedingly. The ground, which had lately looked so brown and parched, cracked into fissures by the Summer heat, was now carpeted with vividly-green grass and tiny leaves. Many large slabs of rock which had before been concealed by earth were now laid bare. The tombs in the Greek and Latin cemeteries, the broad stone thrashing-floors on the sloping plain, the masses of rock around and on the terraced hill-sides, washed by the recent torrents, looked brightly white.
We climbed the castle hill just behind Hâifa. White, yellow, and purple crocuses were growing round the roots of the trees, under the shelter of rocks, and in the midst of leafless thorn-bushes;[1] while the glossy-green leaves of flags, arums, squills, and cyclamen were unfolding and shooting up every-where.
We looked down on to the town. Thousands of birds, chiefly sparrows, were on the house-tops. The flat roofs are composed of massive beams of wood, crossed by planks, poles, and brushwood, overspread with earth and small stones, rolled firm and smooth. In preparation for the Winter rains, the roofs had all been newly covered with mortar made of earth—brought from the common or uninclosed land of the hills—well mixed with straw. The newly-disturbed earth, rich in bulbs, and grass, and wild-flower seeds, had naturally attracted the birds, and as I watched them pecking and twittering there, I felt the significancy of the expression in the Psalms, which refers to the "sparrow on the house-top."
On the 30th of January, soon after sunrise, several little boys came with large bunches of the "narojus;" that is, the yellow narcissus, a favorite flower of the Arabs. The boys asked for "backshîsh," and said, "We have brought these flowers because they are called by the name of the Consul." Then I understood why many Arabs, especially children, called us "Narojus," instead of Rogers. In the afternoon I went on to the hills, where narcissus and wild hyacinths were growing in profusion. Goats were leaping and skipping from rock to rock, and enjoying the plentiful pasture. I looked down on the town. Its appearance was perfectly changed. Out of the lately-made roofs of earth fresh green grass had sprung, so that every house-top looked like a grass-plat; and on some of them lambs and kids were feeding.
But these grass-grown roofs are rarely sound enough to keep out the rain. We often heard our neighbors complaining of water pouring in torrents into their rooms, and I have sometimes been roused in the night by an unexpected sprinkling. Patches of fresh earth are added from time to time, and the roofs are rolled occasionally with a heavy stone, like a common garden-roller. One is usually kept on the top of each house, or block of houses.
When I went out, on the 11th of February, I saw laborers busy in the plain, at the foot of the Carmel Hills. Large patches of land were being plowed. The rich brown earth was thrown up by clumsy-looking plowshares, dragged by oxen. Boys were employed in gathering out stones from tracts of land, round which men were building low rough stone walls. New hedges of prickly pears were being planted round gardens and orchards, thus: a stone wall about a quarter of a yard high is made, and then quite covered with earth. Along the top of the bank thus formed portions of the cactus stems are planted, about a foot apart. These stems are green and broad, and so flat and jointed that they look like large rounded leaves joined together. In some places the rain had washed away the earth, and I could see the roots shooting out from the edges of the stems. The growth of the species of the cactus—Opuntia—is so rapid that a bank thus planted becomes, in the course of one season, a very formidable hedge. Its blossom is yellow, and it yields the pleasant, cooling fruit called "prickly pear," or "Indian fig." The Arabs call it "subber"—that is, "patience"—on account of the care and patience required in gathering and peeling it; for it is covered with spines and fine stinging hairs, and the plant is armed every-where with large sharp thorns. In spite of this the camel feeds on it freely. Even in the driest seasons the stems are juicy, and, when pierced, moisture oozes out plentifully. It is the natural home of the cochineal insect; but the cultivation of this valuable article of commerce is unfortunately neglected in Palestine.
The blossoming arum, the blue iris, squills, and daffodils were growing so abundantly in the burial-ground, that the sides of the tombs were quite concealed. On the unplowed land of the plain, and on the hill-sides, I found anemones, ranunculuses, marigolds, ground-ivy, cyclamen, and many other wild flowers.
The thorn-bushes,which during the Summer and Autumn had been so dark and bare, were clothed with delicate green sprays of finely-serrated leaves, which almost hid the sharp, cruel-looking thorns. They were sprinkled with little round buds—when they opened, they threw out silky tufts of crimson, crowned with golden-colored powder. The seed vessel is round, and divided into four quarters. At first it is almost white, but gradually becomes pink. At the apex there is a little green tuft, in the shape of a Greek cross. When the seed is quite ripe, it is about half an inch in diameter, and of a deep, shining, red color.
I have been told that it was of this thorn that the wreath was made, which once crowned the head of Christ. It may be so. I have never seen a plant of which so beautiful, and at the same time so cruel, a crown could be composed. This thorn is the Poterium spinosum. About Easter, it is seen in all its beauty, the leaves glossy and full-grown, the fruit or seed-vessels brilliantly red, like drops of blood, and the thorns sharper and stronger than at any other time. No plant or bush is so common on the hills of Judea, Galilee, and Carmel as this. It is used extensively for fuel, especially for the bakers' ovens, and "the crackling of thorns under a pot" may often be heard in Palestine.
The gardens and orchards looked very beautiful. Almond-trees were full of blossom. Lemon and shaddock trees were laden with fruit. The Winter rains were over; "flowers appeared on the earth, the time of the singing of birds had come, and the voice of the turtle was heard in the land." And again the appearance of the town of Hâifa was perfectly changed. The last few days of warmth and uninterrupted sunshine had quite withered and burned up all "the grass on the house-tops," so that there was not a green spot left. Boys and girls were gathering the short yellow hay; but there was very little of it, for the grass had not had time to grow up fully, or put forth its seed; and the harvest on the house-tops was mere child's play, "wherewith the mower filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom." Psalm cxxix, 6–8.
On the 19th of February, early in the morning, a young Bedouin brought me a large wooden bowl full of clotted cream, and announced the coming of four men of his tribe. While he spoke, they entered. They were rejoicing, on account of the abundance of milk which their flocks yielded now that they were at pasture on the Carmel range. They were very dark, and wore long, white, cotton shirts with wide sleeves, and loose, heavy, camel's-hair cloaks. They seemed to be rather taken by surprise by the looking-glass, in which they could see themselves at full length. The one who seemed to be the chief of the party invited me to visit him, with the Consul, at his tents, at an hour's distance from Haifa. In answer to my questions, he told me that there were several women at the encampment, and that they were busy making stores of cooking butter. The cream is shaken in goats' skins, and afterward boiled. When the milk and whey are completely extracted, the butter will keep good for a very long time. At this season the markets are always well supplied by the peasantry and the Bedouins together, and during the Spring housekeepers refill their butter-jars with a store for the Summer and Autumn. One of these Bedouins carried a lance, about twelve feet long. At the top of it there were two round tufts of black ostrich feathers, about one foot apart. The upper tuft was fringed with little white feathers. Between the tufts, strips of scarlet cloth were twisted. The lance was so heavy that I could not lift it. It was of wood, with a metal barb. All the men wore large red and yellow silk striped kefias—that is, fringed shawls on their heads, fastened round the crown with a thick rope, and put on like hoods. They all had high, pointed, red-leather boots, which, however, they took off at the door. One man displayed a heavy silver ring on his finger. A name was roughly engraved on it. The wearer said, "Salute the Consul; may Allah keep all sorrow far from him!" Then he and his followers went away.
I had just dismissed the bearer of the bowl of cream with a backshîsh, when two little girls of the Sekhali family came to me, saying, "O Miriam, peace be upon you! We have thought you must be sad and lonely, now that the Consul is away from Hâifa. May he return to you soon, and in safety!" I invited my friendly little neighbors to take off their izzars—the white sheets in which they were enveloped—and to remain with me to breakfast. They wore dark cotton trowsers, made very full and long, and cloth jackets, closely fitting and fastened up to the throat. Their mundîls, or bright-colored muslin kerchiefs, were put on like shawls over the head, crossed under the chin, and the ends tied on the top of the head. Their hair was braided, and hung in long plaits over their shoulders. Their finger-nails and toe-nails were rosy with henna-dye. They left their yellow shoes at the entrance of the room. They were very much interested in turning out the contents of my work-box, and in looking through books of pictures, about which they asked many questions, and made curious comments, not only teaching me, unconsciously, Arabic words, but showing me the spirit of Oriental ideas. They were amused to hear about English children, and laughed heartily when I told them that in England a few camels are kept as curiosities, in a beautiful garden. They could not understand how we could live in a land where there are no camels to carry burdens. I tried to explain to them the use of carts and railed roads; but, as they had never seen a wheeled carriage of any kind, it was very difficult to convey the idea, even with the help of pictures. They were very clever, quick children; and, though only eight and nine years old, they could already make bread, and prepare many simple dishes. They were surprised that I had not been taught how to cook. It is the chief point in the education of an Arab girl.
While I was occupied with my amusing little guests, our Egyptian groom Mohammed arrived, leading a beautiful white mare, and bringing a letter from my brother, inviting me to go immediately to Shefa' Amer—about three hours' distance—to meet him there, and to return with him to Hâifa the next day. The children said, "We are glad you will to-day see the Consul; but we are sorry you are going away from us; go in peace." I was soon ready, and mounted on the white mare. Her long mane and tail were deeply dyed with henna—bright orange color. It is said to be a preventive of disease. A large glass bead of sapphire blue hung from the neck of the animal. I asked the groom what it was for. He said, "It will avert the effect of a glance from an evil eye. This mare is so beautiful that she is in danger of being looked at with admiration and envy by those who have power to destroy her and her rider even by a look." He said he durst not suffer me to ride such an animal without this precaution. Many of my friends, Moslems and Christians, walked by my side as far as the gate, and "Go in peace, and return to us in safety," rang in my ears as I rode along the sands, attended only by our trust worthy groom Mohammed, and under the protection of the sapphire bead. I asked him if my want of confidence in the charm would destroy its efficacy. He answered solemnly, "Its power can not be destroyed, praised be Allah!" It was noon. The sun shone, but not too fiercely. The wind blew, but not too roughly; and the waves rippled round the feet of the mare, and of Mohammed's sturdy little donkey. We crossed the Kishon cautiously and safely on the bar far out at sea. The river was rather deep and dangerous that day.
We turned away from the shore and traversed the drifted sand-hills, where tall trees and shrubs were half buried; but grass was springing up plentifully where the land was firmer, and the rain rested here and there in quiet pools, bordered by the iris, blue and yellow, rank grass and blossoming reeds. Advancing a little further into the plain, we came to a perfect paradise of flowers. The ground for a mile or more in every direction was completely carpeted with anemones—scarlet, crimson, white, blue, purple, pink, and lilac—with patches of clover and mallows here and there, and buttercups and cyclamen. I had never seen such wealth of wild flowers, or such vivid coloring, and there seemed to be no one to enjoy it. We were quite out of sight of human beings and human habitations. The only building to be seen was the dome over the fountain of Jethro, a retreat for ablution and for prayer, with a few troughs round it for watering cattle. It is just half-way between Hâifa and Shefa 'Amer. I paused for a moment to enjoy the scene and the silence. My mare began cropping the thickly-growing mallows. Mohammed exclaimed, "Ya Sittee, cows thrive on mallows, but to running horses they bring death." As we rode on again, I asked Mohammed if his parents still lived in Egypt. He replied, "God knows! It is more than twenty years since I left my mother. She was a widow, peace be upon her! and I have never heard of her since. It is too late now. No letter would reach her, for she is poor and unknown in the land. When the poor leave their parents, they leave them for ever. That is the reason why mothers weep and refuse to be comforted when their sons go away from their homes. Letters can be carried for the rich, and for people who are known." He was surprised to hear that in England all houses are named or numbered, and that letters directed to the poorest people in the country are taken as much care of as those addressed to the most wealthy.
Mohammed had lost the use of one eye. In answer to my inquiry, he told me that his mother had purposely destroyed the sight, by the application of poisonous leaves when he was young, to render him unfit for service in the army, for he was her only son. This practice was very common in Egypt till Ibrahîm Pasha put an effectual stop to it by ordering a regiment to be formed entirely of one eyed men, and every one who had lost the sight of an eye, either by accident or design, was compelled to join it. Mohammed, among others, was enrolled, and this Cyclopean regiment became the most formidable in Egyptian service.[2] We passed between large fields where wheat and barley were springing up vigorously, and over fallow ground garnished with blossoming weeds. Now and then we overtook a land tortoise, leisurely making its way across the country. They are very common in the plains of Palestine. Mohammed told me that Christians of the East eat them, especially in Lent, and the peasants catch and carry them to market-towns in great numbers. I afterward heard this confirmed, but I never saw the dish any where.
When we reached the hill country I could scarcely recognize the valleys and the hill-sides, which I had traversed in October, and again in November. Every thing was changed and beautified by Spring. There was no bare earth to be seen, it was all concealed by vividly-green vegetation. The periwinkle was conspicuous, and in the hollows of the white rocks and between the stones tiny flowers were flourishing. The evergreen oaks were garlanded with wild clematis, and a creeper with lilac bell-like blossoms traveled from tree to tree in graceful festoons. The "pastures on the hills were clothed with flocks, and the valleys were covered with corn." Here we saw some human beings, the first we had met on our way. There was a very old man, with a long staff in his hand, sitting under a tree. He rose up when he saw us coming. He wore over his long shirt a short pelisse made of sheep-skin, and an old shawl head-dress. Some youths came forward as we approached. They were bronzed and weather-beaten. They had nothing on but long coarse cotton shirts, girdled with leather belts. Long clumsy-looking guns were slung over their shoulders. Their heads were hooded in old red and yellow shawls. The herds and flocks upon the hills were in their care. The old man raised his hand to his forehead as we went by, and said, "God direct you." One of the young shepherds was sitting on a rock playing on a short flute, made of a reed. He placed the end of it in his mouth, and produced soft but clear musical sounds. I could detect only five notes. Mohammed pointed out a black tent, made of camel's-hair cloth and branches, pitched under a large terrebinth-tree. It was no doubt the portable home of the herdsmen. Here we were met by an African horseman, as black as ebony. He was dressed entirely in white and crimson, and was riding at full gallop. He paused to greet us, and said to Mohammed, "The English Consul is near at hand. He is coming forth to meet his sister, but my eyes have seen her first. I will hasten to give him joy, and tell him that she is well and on her way." Mohammed answered, "Go in peace. Blessed is the bearer of good tidings." We were soon in the olive-groves of Shefa 'Amer, and there to my delight I met my brother. Saleh, Habîb, and Stephani joined us. They handed blossoming almond branches to me, in token of welcome. We rode up the steep hill on which the town stands, and alighted at the house of Habîb. He led me into his guest chamber, a large, eight-windowed, square room. On two sides of it mattresses were placed on the floor, covered with Turkey-carpets, and cushions cased in silk and satin were leaning against the walls. On one side a handsome carpet was spread, with a small silk -covered square mattress, and pillows arranged for one person only. This he said was intended for me. Egyptian matting covered the rest of the floor, and in one corner was a raised bed-stand, with muslin musketo-curtains. We went out on to the broad terrace, which overlooks the sea and the plain, and rested there, exchanging news.
I reported the visit of the Bedouins. My brother explained to me how the townspeople, the villagers, and the peasantry dread the approach of these wanderers with their flocks and herds, for, he said, "They not only spoil the pasture-land, but the crops are endangered. There will be no real safety for cultivators and agriculturists in Palestine till these incursions are put a stop to. The Bedouins come from beyond Jordan, every year, just after the Winter rains are over, when the grain is springing up, so that people do not venture to cultivate more land than they hope to be able to protect. That is one reason why there are so many waste places in the country, and why some portions of the most fertile plains are abandoned by the peasants of Palestine, and only cultivated by wandering tribes, who pitch their tents in a favorable spot, plow, sow, and reap, and then perhaps recross the Jordan, and return no more till the following Spring." According to the third and sixth verses of the sixth chapter of Judges, these wanderers used to commit just such depredations in Palestine three thousand years ago, and at the very same season. "When Israel had sown, then the Amalekites, the Midianites, and the children of the East (that is, from beyond Jordan) came up against them; they destroyed the increase of the earth and left no sustenance for Israel; they came with their cattle and their tents, and they and their camels were without number, and Israel was greatly impoverished." This is one of the chief causes of the present poverty of the country.
When the sun went down we entered the guest-chamber. Large lanterns were lighted and placed on two small stools in the middle of the room. The Governor, Abu Daoud, and his little son, arrived to greet me. Soon afterward Salihh Agha came, in his large scarlet cloak, edged with gold-lace and embroidery. His dark face was deeply shaded by his lilac and silver shawl, worn like a hood, bound round his head by a thick white cord of camel's hair. His eyelids were kohl-tinged, and he looked rather fierce, on the whole. He and his brother, the celebrated Akîel Agha, are the most powerful and formidable people in the Pashalic of ’Akka. They came originally from Morocco, and are now in the service of the Turkish Government. They have three or four hundred armed horsemen under their command. They may be regarded as the mounted patrols of the hills and plains of Galilee; for it is their duty to keep the roads clear that people may travel in safety. To a considerable extent they succeed; and, thanks to their energy, highway robbery and murders are rare; but they can not of course keep all the wanderers out of the country. Over some tribes Akîel Agha has great influence, but with the Kurds and other hostile hordes he sometimes comes into collision, and warfare ensues, and then all the tribes friendly or in alliance with him naturally come to his assistance. Notwithstanding these outbreaks, it is certain that without the Agha's somewhat irregular guard affairs in the Pashalic of 'Akka would be very much worse, and traveling would be attended with more danger.
Akîel Agha’s regiment is a motley crew, formed of desperate men from all parts of the country, reminding one of the four hundred over whom David made himself a captain—1 Samuel xxii, 2. They are distinguished by the name of "Hawara," and are, in fact, a tolerated tribe of marauders, empowered by the Government to keep other tribes in check.
Salihh Agha told me that he had served on the Danube for a short time during the previous year, but he did not like to be so far away from his children. His tents were now pitched at Abilene, about three miles from Shefa ’Amer. He sent his lieutenant to fetch his youngest son for me to see, though it was a dark night and long past sunset. Supper was announced, and we were conducted to another room. Water was poured over our hands as we entered; then we, seven in number, sat on the matted floor, round a circular tray, raised about six inches from the ground, and literally crowded with food. A very long, narrow towel was placed in front of the guests, and reached all round, resting on our knees, and its fringed ends met and crossed where I was invited to take my seat. There were six round dishes of heaped-up rice, boiled in butter; six dishes of boiled wheat, mixed with minced meat and spices; a few plates of fowls and lamb, and bowls of lebbeny or sour cream, and a good supply of sweet cream, cheese, olives, and salad. A cake of bread was placed before each person. As soon as Salihh Agha was seated, he began eating silently and—as it seemed to me—voraciously, quite in Bedouin style, making pellets of the hot rice or wheat in the palm of his hand, and with a skillful jerk tossing them into his mouth. He divided the fowls with his fingers, and did me the honor to pass the most delicate morsels to me. At this rate the contents of the dishes soon disappeared; for all the gentlemen followed the example of Salihh Agha, and as, one by one, they were satisfied, they rose and washed their hands. We then returned to the large room, where many visitors had assembled. Coffee and pipes were served. Songs were sung in praise of the Agha, and of the Vice-Consul, and other guests. The songs which called forth the greatest energy were descriptions of contending armies and of the chase. Arrack was handed round to the singers, but none of the Bedouins partook of it. Little Nimr, the son of the Agha, arrived. He was about seven years old. He came bounding into the room, and was soon wrapped in the folds of his father's scarlet cloak, and covered with kisses and caresses. I was struck by the change in the somewhat stern aspect of Salihh Agha. He was full of tenderness and demonstrative affection for his little son—an ugly boy, but of that piquant description of ugliness which is sometimes so attractive. The lieutenant wished him to go and have supper with him; but he said archly, "Did I come here to have supper or to see the English Sit?"—that is, the lady. He came and nestled by my side; took my hands in his; felt my dress, and said it was nice and soft. He showed in every action that he was accustomed to be noticed very much, and to be lovingly treated.
Wrestling was proposed, and Nimr immediately challenged Elias, the son of Stephani, a slightly-made, very pretty boy, also about seven, who deliberately took off his little brown braided and hooded pelisse, while Nimr threw down his loose camel's-hair cloak. They each wore scarlet cloth jackets, with hanging sleeves like the hussars', wide sleeved, long white cotton shirts, and very full scarlet trowsers. They took off the latter and their shoes. Little Nimr—that is, the Tiger—looked proudly impatient. Young Elias, quietly in earnest, made a spring on Nimr and threw him down. The men clapped their hands and shouted. The wrestling was carried on for nearly half an hour. Elias was, almost in every instance, the victor. At last Nimr, with a mortified look, after many falls, ran to his father and hid himself in the folds of the scarlet cloak. Elias looked quite calm and unexcited by his success. He sat quietly by my side.
I find that wrestling is a very common exercise in the Bedouin tents. Salihh Agha's elder boys, of fifteen and sixteen years of age, were present. They behaved with great deference and respect to their father, and did not sit, or take coffee, or smoke in his presence without his permission; but since that time the eldest son has distinguished himself in warfare, and has killed an enemy of his tribe with his own hand; so he now enjoys the dignity and privileges of manhood, and equality with his father.
The room was cleared of the numerous guests at an early hour, and then the wife of Habîb—my host—and four women came to see me. One of them offered to sleep in the guest-chamber with me, thinking I should be frightened. The Arabs are very timid at night, and always congregate together to sleep, and burn lamps to drive away evil spirits when under a roof. They were surprised that I could dare to sleep in darkness and alone.
The next morning Habîb's wife came tapping at my door early, and with curiosity examined my garments. The room would soon have been full of women to assist and inspect my toilet, if I had not decidedly expressed a wish to dress before I received visitors; so only my hostess remained. She afterward led me to her room on the ground-floor. It was spacious, but very low. Beds, bedding, and carpets were piled up on a raised stone bench on one side, and on the other cooking utensils, dishes, jars, and stores were arranged. At the end of the room, opposite the door, a carpet was spread, and there I was invited to sit down to breakfast. In a corner a woman was preparing meat for cooking, and a large charcoal brazier stood near the door, where a girl was roasting coffee-berries. This room was evidently the parlor, bedroom, and kitchen, all in one. A charcoal-cellar and the stables occupied the other part of the ground-floor.
The mother of my host was busy superintending the baking of the loaves she had made that morning; so I went to the baking-house at the end of the street to see her. Stacks of wood, tree-branches, and thorn-bushes were piled up just outside the entrance to it. I peeped inside the low, stone building. It was like a furnace. The flat loaves were placed on large sheets of iron, which were heated from beneath by a glowing and crackling wood fire. Several women, whose faces, all but the kohl-stained eyes, were vailed, were waiting to take their cakes of bread in to be baked. They held them on round trays made of wicker-work and straw. A poor little boy, who looked very hungry, came with only one small loaf, and watched anxiously for his turn.
A white, semi-transparent lizard ran out from between the stones by the door. I stooped forward to examine it. The women around shrieked out exclamations of horror and disgust. In answer to my questions, they said, "Ya sittee, that is an evil reptile, he crawls over bread or other food, and breathes his poisonous breath upon it, so that he who eats that corrupted food may die, or be as one smitten with leprosy." Mohammed, our Egyptian groom, who approached at the moment, leading the white mare, said, "God preserve us! The words of the women are true words." I hastened to prepare for riding. A gazelle hunt had been arranged for that day by Salihh Agha, and he had invited us to accompany him. The kawass and grooms and the Agha's people had charge of some fine gazelle hounds. We met the rest of the party down by the fountain. Three of them were on foot leading boar-hounds. They soon left us, and entered the hill country of Carmel to seek for boars. Little Nimr was riding with the lieutenant on a chestnut horse, whose pedigree they say could be traced back to the time of Solomon. His defense against fascination was a white shell, called wadat, fastened to a cord hung round his neck.
We were joined by Habîb and Stephani, and our friend and fellow-townsman Saleh Sekhali. The latter said to me, "You must take notice to-day, ya sittee Miriam, of the great difference between the vision of people who live in towns and of those who live in the open country in tents." I soon had an example of this, for Salihh Agha scanned the horizon, and he and his people discerned in the distance a horse at full gallop. Before we townspeople could distinguish that the horse had a rider, Salihh Agha could describe his dress and even his features, though he was a the rider came within the range of our vision. I congratulated Salihh Agha on the possession of such a faculty, and told him how much it astonished me. He said, "You also have a power which is a marvel to me. I have seen the writing in your book, [he referred to the note-book which I invariably carried and frequently used;] the strokes and figures in it are so fine and small and so close together that it made my eyes ache to look at them." The Agha could not even read or write his own language. Saleh Sekhali remarked, "The good gifts of Allah are divided; praised be Allah!" One of the Bedouins said, "Men who live in towns accustom their eyes to look only from one street to another and from one wall to another, but we who live in tents see to the ends of the earth. When I am within walls I am as one struck blind, or as if a vail were held before my eyes. There is no space for sight within the towns."
We rode on quietly along the base of the hills among low brushwood, thistles, and flourishing thorns. The grooms had great difficulty in keeping the hounds in, so violently did they struggle to escape. We traversed a well-watered valley, where the mallow was growing extensively, to the hight of one or two feet, with lilac, pink, and silvery gray blossoms, and large, thick leaves. Men and boys were busy cutting it and rapidly filling their baskets. This plant is very much used by the Arabs medicinally. They make poultices of the leaves to allay irritation and inflammation. Lotions are prepared from them also. "Khubazi " is the Arabic word for mallows, and the little, flat, round seed-vessels, so well known to English children as "cheeses," are by the Arabs called "Khubiz," that is, "loaves," for the Arab bread is always flat and round.
While Stephani was explaining this to me, I saw five gazelles leaping one after another from a thicket of thistles. They disappeared behind some juniper-trees. We directed the attention of the now scattered huntsmen to the spot. They came galloping recklessly over bushes and rocks. The dogs were set free and soon started the gazelles. I rested in my saddle with Saleh Sekhali by my side, watching the graceful bounds of the startled animals, the racing and leaping of the hounds, and the skillful maneuvers of the horsemen. They missed the gazelles, but they succeeded in capturing four fine hares. Then there was a start in another direction, where a troop of antlered gazelles had been seen. I followed in the rear with the lieutenant and his little charge, Nimr, and from a distance we observed the chase for some time. Then we rode across the plain between cultivated fields and gardens of wild flowers. We paused at the fountain of Jethro, which had been fixed upon as the place for meeting after the hunt. There we found the Agha's people preparing dinner. They had dug two broad, shallow pits in the ground, in which they had made fires of wood and thorns. In one a lamb was being baked whole, and over the other a caldron of rice was boiling.
In a short time the whole party was assembled. The panting dogs rolled themselves in the grass, the horsemen dismounted, and with difficulty the frisky and loudly-neighing horses were tethered. Some were fastened to iron stakes or pins driven in the ground. Grooms and horsemen generally carry them when they journey in places where there are no trees or rocks to which to bind the animals. All the men, however, had not been equally provident. Heavy stones were sought for and halters fastened to them, but not quite securely. The consequence was that two horses escaped and galloped away. I could not help being amused with the chase after these runaways, through marshes and tangled masses of vegetation. I preferred it to the pursuit of the swift-footed, poor little frightened gazelles, whose escape gratified me more than their capture did. The horses were caught at last, together, by the banks of a stream. When we reassembled we took our seats in the shade of the dome of the fountain, with acres of wild flowers round us. Dinner was ready. Two men brought the lamb on a large metal dish or tray; two others carried a mountain of rice, yellow with butter. Boys arrived with bowls of sweet clotted cream and new milk, and dishes of lebbeny. These provisions were arranged on a carpet of clover and mallows and grass. We washed our hands, the servants pouring water over them from earthenware jars. Large Bedouin cloaks and saddle-cloths were spread for us, and we gathered round the smoking and savory fare.
Each one of the Arabs on preparing to touch food uttered the words, "In the name of God the most Bountiful." The lamb was soon skillfully dissected by Saleh with his hunting-knife. A servant handed a flat, thin, large, leathery loaf to each of us. The lamb was stuffed with rice and minced meat, almonds, raisins, walnuts, and spice. Salibh Agha placed some on my flat loaf, which served me as a plate, and he gave me a lump of meat in my hands. He had separated it from the bone with his short hunting dagger. The Arabs cook their meat so thoroughly that it is very tender and easily pulled and torn to pieces.
The men made deep depressions in the pyramidal mountain of rice—but each one carefully helped himself from that part of the dish which was nearest to him, and did not, if he could avoid it, disturb the rice near to the hole made in it by his neighbor, except when by way of courtesy he placed a delicate morsel of meat into it now and then. A roasted hare was added to the feast and soon distributed. The cream was eaten voraciously by dipping pieces of bent bread into it and scooping it up as with a spoon, so the spoon and its contents disappeared together. Scarcely a word was spoken by the Arabs during the meal. One by one they retired, saying, "God be praised," and went to the fountain to wash their hands and mouths, uttering an invocation to Allah.
We afterward rested for a short time, and pipes and coffee were handed round. I took the opportunity of putting the Agha, his little son, and his attendant, Khalîl, into my sketch-book. The latter seemed rather alarmed when he saw what I had done, and begged of me not to show his portrait in certain districts, for a price was set upon his head, and men sought after him to kill him. In the meantime, the servants and people so far emptied the large metal trays or dishes, that I could plainly see the Arabic sentences engraved on them—extracts from the Koran, and words of praise and prayer. Then most of the men covered their faces and slept, while I wandered about gathering and pressing specimens of all the flowers I could find, little Nimr good-naturedly helping me. Besides the ranunculus and anemone and others equally familiar, I met with many flowers which were strange to me. One was pink, and shaped very like a primrose, with pointed, succulent leaves growing in pairs up the stem. Pressure always changed the color of the flower from pink to blue. This plant would be a welcome addition to our gardens in England, where I have never yet found it. I made a drawing of the dome over the pleasant fountain, and when the sleepers woke they said, "Mashallah, the English girl takes no rest—God gives her strength." We took leave of the Agha and his people and our Shefa 'Amer friends, and rode with Saleh and our servants toward Hâifa, carrying one gazelle and two hares. We saw many groups of horses and camels grazing under the care of the Agha's men on the uncultivated portions of the plain. Tortoises met us and paused as if alarmed. They looked about them for an instant and then drew their heads under their horny shields. Hundreds of small birds fluttered out of the tall grass, disturbed by our approach, and flocks of wild ducks and geese now and then flew across the plain toward the marshes, and sea-gulls flapped their wings above us. We crossed the drifted sand hills, and cantered along the smooth sea-shore toward the Kishon. Men were standing on its banks, throwing large floating nets, assisted by boys in a little boat in the middle of the river. The fishes of the Kishon are rather small, but abundant, and delicate in flavor.
There were seven ships off Hâifa—Greek, French, and Turkish. The sun was low when we went, one after the other, over the sand-bar. We hastened onward by the water's edge, letting our horses' feet just touch the fringe of the sparkling waves, startling hundreds of small white and sand-colored crabs. Their black eyes are fixed on the points of movable pinnacles, which are thrust out from the round eye-sockets, and stand upright. They scampered hither and thither nimbly, to get out of our way. Their rapidly-moving forms were repeated on the shining wet sands, till shape and shadow were lost under the coming wave. I have often caught and examined these curious little crabs. They are always very light in color—white or sandy—and they vary from one to three inches in length. I think that they must be of the kind called "Cancer Volans." They make holes in the sand, near the sea, and seem very timid when disturbed. They sometimes, however, resent interference. I have seen our gazelle-hound, "Risheh," amuse himself by running after them, tormenting them as a cat does a mouse, or peering into their burrows. When they had an opportunity, they used to cling to his long, delicate nose or lip, and he had some difficulty in shaking them off; but I never saw him destroy or injure one in any way. Fishermen use these crabs for bait, and make traps for them in the sand, in imitation of their burrows.
There were many friends to greet us as we entered the gate of Hâifa; for it was the hour of sunset, when people flock into town after an evening stroll. There was the Mutsellim, surrounded by his suite, walking slowly, with his silver and coral rosary in his hand, and his pipe-bearer by his side. A little group of Jews were there too, some wearing broad-brimmed hats and long gabardines, others with dark shawl-turbans and short cloth or silk pelisses lined with fur. Apart from these were companies of quite unrecognizable women, shrouded in white sheets from head to foot. They looked like moving pillars, for they took such short steps, scarcely lifting their feet from the ground, that their progress should be called gliding instead of walking. Even their little children seemed unnaturally demure and stately.
Short, sturdy-looking oxen, fat sheep, with long, broad, heavy tails, and black, glossy-haired goats, led by the herdsmen, were returning from the pleasant but unprotected pastures to seek shelter within the town walls for the night. The Christians were at the same time entering in at the opposite gate; for they almost always walk toward the western hills and plains—perhaps because their cemeteries are west of the town; while the Moslems prefer the eastern suburbs, where they bury their dead. The call to prayer was echoing clearly through the town from the balcony of the crescent-crowned minaret, while the vesper-bell was ringing from the little belfry of the Latin church. Some of the people paused from their work, or stood still in the streets, to cross themselves, and to mutter an "Ave Maria " in Arabic; while the rest were declaring, "There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his prophet."
On Sunday my brother always read the Church service in Arabic, in the drawing-room of the Consulate, at nine o'clock. When British vessels were in port, we had service at eleven, with such of the captains and sailors as could attend; and English travelers who were passing through the country occasionally joined us. Saleh Sekhali was invariably present at the Arabic service, and no one was excluded from it. We generally mustered about six or seven. People came perhaps the more readily because they were not pressed or even invited to come. Curiosity induced many to pay one or more visits. The Arabs, and especially the Christian Arabs, could not understand how we could have religion without a Priest; solemnity without an Altar; how we could worship without a Church; or realize the presence of God without the elevation of the Host. They were always quietly and earnestly attentive while listening to portions of the Old and New Testament. After prayers, Saleh Sekhali often read by request several chapters, selecting some history or essay complete in itself. Women of the Greek or Latin Churches came occasionally, and remained unvailed when only Christians were present; but if a Moslem was announced they retreated immediately. The Moslems always expressed themselves much pleased with the service, on account of its simplicity and reverential character. I find that, besides the Koran, they regard al Tora, the Pentateuch; a' Zabûr, the Psalms; a' Nabiyeh, the Prophets; and al Anjîli, the New Testament, as holy or inspired books. Those who receive any one of these are to be tolerated. The new Governor, Saleh Bek Abd-ul-Hady, an Arab, came now and then. He said that if there were an English college in the country, he would immediately send his boys to it. Many of our neighbors wished to send their little girls for a few hours every day to my care; but I could not undertake the charge; though, whenever I had time to spare, I encouraged children to come to the house—the only condition being that they should be clean and neat.
Moslem boys do not generally play with Christians, and even the Christian children are divided among themselves. Those belonging to the Greek Church have their street games apart from those who belong to the Latin Church, and they only unite to persecute the poor little Jews.
A gentle-looking little girl, of about six years of age, whose father was a much-respected European and mother an Arab, surprised me very much one day by saying, in Arabic, without any provocation, and with a gesture of scorn, to a Jewish workman, "Go, thou Jew, and be crucified!" The child, naturally good-natured and affectionate, shuddered when she partially understood how cruel and unjust her words had been. By my wish she begged pardon of the Jew; and then, by her own impulse, and to his great wonder, kissed his hands, while tears stood in her eyes.
It was with the hope of checking, as far as I could, this spirit of hatred, intolerance, and persecution, that I encouraged the little ones of Hâifa to meet together in my room. I prepared entertainments for them, played with them, told them stories about England, showed them pictures, avoiding reference to their various creeds. By making them happy together, I hoped that they would learn unconsciously to love one another.
I used sometimes to leave the children to amuse themselves alone, while I retreated to the end of the room, whence I could see and hear all that was going on, without throwing any check on their natural impulses. At such times, I have heard girls of seven and eight years of age, and even younger ones, discussing the comparative value of the wardrobes and jewels of the ladies of Hâifa. One child would say, "Sit Hafîfi has the largest pearls and emeralds," and, "Such a one has the greatest number of diamonds," and " Um Elia has the handsomest dresses and embroidered jackets." They could tell how many coins the women from Nazareth, who lived in Hâifa, had on their head-dresses.
On Sunday, February 24th, a Moslem, of considerable influence and learning, asked permission to attend the Morning Service. We welcomed him, and he, Prayer book in hand, followed every word attentively, evincing unusual interest, or curiosity. He even abandoned his amber rosary for the time. Directly after prayers, however, the beads were to be seen again, rapidly slipping through his well-shaped, carefully-trimmed fingers. A Moslem does not appear at ease till he has a pipe in one hand and a chaplet in the other.
When the Christians had gone, I said to him, "Will your Excellency tell me the use of the rosary ? Is it simply a toy, or is it a help to reckon prayer or praise?"
Without showing the slightest unwillingness, he explained its use, saying, "The attributes or characteristic excellencies of God are manifold; but there are ninety-nine which should be learned, and remembered continually, by all men. These rosaries consist of ninety-nine, or thirty three beads, on which to reckon the attributes, thus"—he took the chaplet out of my hands, and, while passing bead after bead through his fingers, said, with unusual slowness and solemnity: "God the Creator—God the Preserver—God the most Bountiful—God the Deliverer—God the Eternal—God the Ever-present—God the All-seeing—God the most Merciful—God the All-powerful—God the King of Kings"—and so on, till the chaplet had passed three times through his hands; for it consisted of only thirty three large egg-shaped beads of clouded amber. When he found how much pleased I was, he took pains to teach me the attributes.
I said to him, "Now that your Excellency has made me understand the solemn and beautiful words of the rosary, I shall be always sorry to hear them said quickly and thoughtlessly." He answered, "You are right, O my sister. God is to be approached with reverence." But I could perceive that he found it much more difficult to repeat the attributes leisurely, than to utter them, as usual, rapidly. After a pause, he said, "To every man who is not hateful or erring, one of these Divine attributes especially belongs, and influences his life." The date of the birth of an individual, in conjunction with his name, properly reckoned, discovers the particular attribute. As an example, he calculated mine, and always afterward called me "Miriam the Intercessor." I asked my Moslem teacher in what sense the word "Intercessor" was used as an attribute of God. He regarded it simply as mercy and goodness, and readiness to pardon. Another Moslem told me, one day, that it implied mercy pleading with justice. He acknowledged to me that he did not regard fasts, and forms, and ceremonies as important. He thought that doing our duty to man, and giving thanks to God, were all-sufficient. But he added, "If I did not keep the fasts and feasts, and perform certain ablutions and prayers three times a day, my voice would not be heard in the Medjlis—that is, the Council—and I should lose all my influence." He assured me me that there were many enlightened men who felt as he did on the subject, but they hid the thoughts of their hearts.
My brother scarcely ever spoke to Moslems about their religion, and warned me to be cautious how I did so; consequently, I never introduced the subject, directly or indirectly, except when I found myself with any one of superior intelligence and judgment, and then only carefully, and as an inquirer—never as a teacher or proselytizer. I invariably met with good-natured, if not satisfactory, answers, and gained some interesting information. I was satisfied that I did not give offense by the fact that my society was most sought for by those whom I had thus questioned—probably on account of the novelty of the circumstance.
In the afternoon all the Europeans then in Hâifa assembled, and walked in procession to the Latin church, to witness the christening of Jules, the infant son of the French Consul. Kawasses led the way. The child was placed on a crimson silk pillow, and carried by the nurse, Helwé, an old woman of Nazareth. The father, Mons. Aumann, conducted me. He said that there had never before been such a procession of Europeans through those narrow and crooked streets. It was formed of Consuls, and captains whose ships were in port, monks from Mount Carmel, and merchants of Hâifa, and two elderly Greek ladies, with large black lace shawls folded over their red cloth caps. The godmother was of Greek birth, but she wore an Arab costume, and was shrouded in a white sheet. We entered the little square church. Near to the highly and gaudily-decorated altar a number of bare-headed men—Arabs—were prostrating themselves, or beating their breasts. Behind them a group of women and girls, almost shrouded in white sheets, kneeled languidly, with mother-of-pearl rosaries in their henna-stained hands. Their many-colored mundîls—muslin vails—were thrown back over their heads, and bright, everlasting flowers, and jewels, and brighter eyes, in dark settings of kohl, were exposed. The men—Arabs—carefully avoided looking toward the women; but some of the latter seemed to expect to attract the admiration of the less scrupulous Europeans, and were not disappointed. On a table near to the font sacred oil and salt, and other necessaries for the ceremony of christening, were arranged on a white embroidered cloth. The parish priest read the baptismal service in Latin, but the little hero of the day somewhat disturbed and disconcerted him by screaming lustily. He strongly objected to the taste of the salt, and to the application of the water to his head, and of the oil to his chest. It was a relief to every one present, especially to the priest, when the ceremony was over, and the "newly-made little Christian"—as they all called him —was comforted in the arms of his nurse. We returned to the French Consulate. There was a large gathering in the marble-paved salon, where the happy mother received the congratulations of her neighbors, for Judas was her only son. It was quite a fête-day in Hâifa, especially among the Latins. Oranges boiled in sugar and spice, lemons cut up and preserved in honey, all sorts of Oriental confectionery made of sweetened starch and gums, and French bonbons and liqueurs, were distributed.
I took leave of the assembled guests, and strolled with my brother out at the West Gate. The declining sun was brightening the green slopes, the trees, and white rocks of the Carmel range. A small pink flower had sprung up plentifully in the stony places of the plain. Each blossom was in the form of a foliated Greek cross, and the small green leaves were heart-shaped. We sat on the mossy trunk and in the lengthening shade of a large locust-tree, discussing the events of the day, enjoying the scene and the silence; for we had wandered quite out of sight of the town. We were in the midst of a grove of fig, locust, and olive-trees. The ground was carpeted with wild flowers; the hills, fragrant with aromatic herbs, rose behind us and the broad sea, red with the rays of the setting sun, was before us.
Our tête-à-tête was interrupted by the approach of our kawass, who came to announce the arrival of a special messenger from Jerusalem. The messenger himself soon appeared. He was a tall, powerful-looking African, very black and bony, clad simply in a coarse, unbleached cotton shirt, girdled with a leather strap. A large white turban protected his head and shaded his face. His wide, pliant feet were bare. He had walked all the way from Jerusalem in three days, and was the bearer of important dispatches from Her Britannic Majesty's Consul, Mr. Finn. He drew the packet from his bosom, and kissed my brother's hands as he presented it, and then stood resting on his long, thick staff.
I found that the letters contained directions for my brother to proceed immediately to Nablûs, to report the state of affairs there, and to ascertain the true cause or causes of the disturbances in the town and in the mountain districts around. A letter from Mrs. Finn advised and invited me to accompany him as far as Nablûs; that an escort might meet me there to take me on to Jerusalem to spend Easter with her. Rumors had reached Hâifa every day for some time past of skirmishes, and even pitched battles, between the supporters of Mahmoud Bek Abdul Hady, the newly-appointed Governor of Nablûs, and the partisans of his predecessor in office. A tour through the Jebel Nablûs district was in consequence considered rather hazardous, and rain would be sure to set in in a day or two. However, I consented to go, on the condition that my brother would promise to travel exactly as if he were alone, both with regard to the selection of the route and of the halting-places, and the length of each day's journey. This settled, he proved to me that he understood I was in earnest by saying, "Then we will start at sunrise to-morrow, for that is what I should do if I were going alone."
This was a sudden change in our plans. Till past midnight I was busy packing portmanteaus, and providing for the safety of the house and furniture for an indefinite period, and guarding against the intrusion of rats and mice, moth and rust.
In the mean time my brother was in his office, in earnest consultation with his agent and our Governor, Saleh Bek. The latter asked to see me. I went to him, and he said, "My sister, you have a brave heart. You are going on a difficult journey, but you have no reason to fear any one, for you have no enemies. After a day or two you will reach my town—Arrabeh—and there you will find rest, and my wives and my children will welcome you, for they are still there. I have prepared to receive them here, and have sent for them several times, but they have not courage to travel, now that war has broken out. If you reach Arrabeh in safety, and they see you, perhaps their hearts will be made strong. God be with you and protect you! May you find rest at Arrabeh, and peace whithersoever you go!"
- ↑ "The lily among thorns." Song of Solomon ii, 2.
- ↑ I could not understand what sort of leaves Mohammed referred to, but they were gathered from a shrub which grows in gardens on the banks of the Nile. On homeopathic principles I suppose that this eye-destroying leaf should also have the power of renovating injured sight. Several Arabs—Christians—confessed to me, that when they were school-boys, they resorted to all sorts of schemes in order to avoid attending school. They used sometimes to rub their eyelids with freshly gathered fig-leaves, and the milky juice which exudes from them soon causes the eyelids to swell so much, that they can scarcely be opened for two or three days, but no perceptible injury is done to the eye. When fig-leaves are not to be found, they used stinging nettles instead! The boys said that they cheerfully suffered this self-inflicted pain for a few days, for the sake of the holiday which necessarily accompanied it, and the temporary escape from the monotonous duties of school, and the thick stick of the schoolmaster. However, where Arab boys are kindly and intelligently taught, they learn eagerly and make wonderfully rapid progress.