Our Holiday in the East ... Edited by ... G. H. Sumner ... Second edition

Preface

TO THE FIRST EDITION. A visit to the East — and especially to those Oriental lands consecrated by their connection with Biblical history — has for long been a dream which both my wife and I earnestly desired should one day become a reality. During the spring of this year we were able to carry out these long - cherished wishes, and, with our daughter and a few friends, to visit localities familiar to us all by name from our earliest childhood, and rendered dear by their associa tion with the Sacred Story of our Lord's life on earth. My wife has endeavoured in the following pages, by enlarging her journal written at the time, to convey to others an idea of the scenes which gave us such intense pleasure. She has had much diffidence in publishing this sketch

PREFACE.

TO THE FIRST EDITION. VI of our travels, and I do not know that she would have ventured to do so at all if, on our return home, our friends had not inundated us with questions which showed that, to many persons, at any rate, a few details of our tour would not be without interest. No attempt has been made to solve any of the knotty questions connected with disputed Holy Sites in Palestine, for our stay in the East was not sufficiently prolonged to enable us to enter upon such con troverted topics. If some degree of the pleasure whicli she has experienced in writing, and which I have also felt in editing, the records of that happy time be shared by her readers, her object will be fully accomplished. GEORGE HENRY SUMNER, Old Alresford Rectory, Hants, Christmas, 1880.

PREFACE.

TO THE SECOND EDITION. In preparing a second and cheaper edition of Our Holiday in the Eeist for publication, I must express my gratification at the success which has attended the issue of the first. A few additions and corrections have been made, so that I trust this edition may be found in some respects superior to the first. G. H. S. Old Alresford Rectory, Hants, November, 1881. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE 1. EASTWARD BOUND .... 1 II. CAIRO TO JAFFA . . . .34 III. THE HOLY LAND . . . .64 IV. JERUSALEM . . . .87 V. JERICHO AND THE DEAD SEA . . Ill VI. JERUSALEM . . . .134 VII. JERUSALEM TO NAZARETH . . . 16j VIII. NAZARETH TO SYRIA . . . 191 IX. DAMASCUS . . . .226 X. DAMASCUS TO BEYROUT . . . 264 XI. WESTWARD HO ! . . .295

Chapter I. Eastward Bound

Start for the East — Life on Board the Pera — Landing at Alexandria — Novel Experiences — Introduction to our Dragoman, Michel-El-Hani — Varied Nationalities at Alexandria — Historical Keminiscences — Kemoval of Pompey's Pillar — Railway to Cairo — Aspect of the Country — The Natives — The Villages — Donkey-riding in Cairo — Fascination of the Place — The Syces, Bazaars, and Mode of Bargaining — The Pyramids — The Sphinx. On Monday, February 23rd, 1880, our party, consisting of my cousin and niece Mr. and Miss Heywood, two friends Mr. and Miss Scudamore Stanhope, my husband, my daughter, and my self, started for the East. We glided out of the Charing Cross Station into the thick, foggy, evening gloom, followed by hearty good wishes for the success of our pilgrimage to the Holy B Land, on the part of kind friends who had come to see us off.

A week's run across Europe brought us to Brindisi, and we found ourselves on board the Peninsular and Oriental Steamer, Pera, a well appointed vessel, clean and comfortable. The discipline on board was almost of a man-of-war character. Captain Hyde, who commanded the steamer, had at one time been in the Queen's service, and had evidently not forgotten the lessons learned there. He was always followed at a distance of a few yards by a Httle sailor-boy in spotless white trousers, ready at a moment's notice to carry his commands to the other end of the vessel. The boy's orders were never to stand in front of the captain, and his manœuvres to keep in the rear were very droll, and an endless source of amusement. He revolved round him like a satellite. As the captain turned, the boy turned ; when the captain stopped, the boy stopped ; and the only time when we saw him relax from this rigid conformity to duty, was on one occasion when the captain was enjoying an afternoon siesta, and the little fellow, taking advantage of the situation, indulged in a furtive run on his own account.

THE ADRIATIC. Our boat carried the mail-bags, and the accumulation of letters and newspapers was marvellous. There were no fewer than six hundred and thirty large sackfuls for India, China, and Australia. It took two hours to get this literary cargo on board at Brindisi ; for, with an inconceivable want of energy on the part of the Italians, the train from Bologna disgorges its contents about a quarter of a mile from the quay, so that all the mail-bags have first to be packed in mule-carts, and then once more unloaded to be brought on board ship. Representations on the subject have been made over and over again to the proper authorities, but hitherto without effect. Brindisi is a dreary place, and we were glad to steam away into the blue Adriatic, past the Castle of Otranto, with the Italian coast full in view.

Next morning we were within eight or ten miles of the Morea ; the Bay of Navarino was before us, and the beautiful outline of the Greek coast stretched far away towards the south. The mountains of the Morea looked very lovely, piled up one behind the other, with the snow glittering on their summits ; but the land seemed bare and desolate, and the only signs of life were small villages, at rare intervals, nestling under the great hills. Late in the afternoon we passed Cape Matapan and the Island of Cerigo (the ancient Cythera), and bade farewell to Greece. The next morning, when we came on deck, Crete was nearly out of sight. "We glided along over the placid, lake-like, still, and waveless sea, in a sort of dreamy way, which was very delicious, and a party of us sat from time to time on the poop, singing, reciting, reading, talking, and rejoicing over our good fortune in having such a passage.

We saw very little shipping, not more than three or four sail in the course of twelve hours. Sea gulls were our only companions, for ever hover ing over us, gleaming like silver in the sunshine as they whirled round and round in graceful sweeps, enjoying life to the utmost. It was at two o'clock on the afternoon of the 4th of March, that we anchored off Alexandria, and our eyes first opened upon Eastern colouring. Alexandria looked like a golden city, lying on a golden shore between two great bands of blue — the sky and the sea. It stood out sharp and clear, with its palm-trees and minarets, against the sky-line, like a picture of Goodall's ARRIVAL AT ALEXANDRIA. — hot, dry, and arid, but very wonderful and beautiful to northern eyes, accustomed for so long to clouds and sunlessness. As soon as we anchored, crowds of gay little boats and boat men buzzed round our vessel, and a rabble of Arabs came on board dressed in full white trousers, and tunics of green, blue, or scarlet, with turbans or tarbouches on their heads, and at once changed the quiet and decorum of our stately vessel into a Babel-like confusion.

The men hustled, bustled, chattered, shouted, and gesticulated. They fought one with another over the luggage, struggling, pushing, and screaming like lunatics. Before leaving England, we had engaged the services of a dragoman for the Holy Land, who had been privately recommended to us — Michel- El-Hani. He had written to say that he would meet us at Alexandria, and he soon came on board from one of the boats, and we felt our hands grasped by a stranger, a tall, dark Syrian, in European dress, with a fine eager face. From that moment we belonged to him, and he to us, and most carefully and successfully did he pioneer us through all our journeys. At this particular moment he extricated us triumphantly from the pandemonium, and we were soon, under his protection, safely landed/"" A crowd of Alexandrians, dirty and sparsely clad, received us as we landed on the shore of Egypt.

Their one shout was ' Backsheesh ! ' — ' Give us something ! ' This, indeed, is the first and the last word you hear in the East ; it is the first cry of the Oriental infant, and the last whine of the aged ; it is hurled with a loud voice at you from the fields, even as you whirl by in a railway train, and pervades all classes, from the Pasha down to the poor leper. The sound of it is never ceasing. It meets you everywhere. On this particular occasion back sheesh stood us in good stead, for the adminis tration of a few francs by Hani enabled us to pass without question through the shabby, dirty * Michel-El-Hani, of whom it is impossible to speak too highly, was dragoman to ' Rob Roy,' when canoeing on the Jordan. Mr. Macgregor thus speaks of him — ' At Ismailia there met me the brave and faithful companion of my future journey, Michael Hani, well known to me as my dragoman in 1849, frequently trusted since by large parties sent to his charge ; most welcome now as the man without whose aid I could scarcely have ventured to take the Rob Roy through the journey we are about to relate.' — 'Rob Roy' on the Jor dan, p. 16.

CLIMATE OF EGYPT. 7 out-houses on the wharf, which served as the custom-house. It is quite impossible to convey even a faint idea of the wonders of Eastern life and colouring. e felt very much as if we had waked up in another planet. The aspect of everything was so absolutely different from more conventional Europe, with its darker skies, its duller colouring, and its unpicturesque style of dress ; and, merely from an artistic point of view, this first introduction to the land of Egypt was full of interest and delight. We walked through the streets of Alexandria in a sort of dream, gazing at jet-black Nubians, gaily-dressed Turks, yellowslippered Persians, veiled women, and picturesque figures of all ages and varied nationalities, attired in dresses of bright, beautiful colours, and with drapery hanging in graceful folds over their lithesome figures.

The very beggars throw their rags about them in artistic fashion. Over all this scene the sun reigned supreme, lighting up land and sea with a brilliancy so intense and vivid, that it is quite indescribable. The heat was overwhelming. We had left England in a cold, dark fog, and now we suddenly found ourselves in blazing heat under a fierce sun and cloudless sky. The change was magical. The cry on board the Pera had been, ' Oh, for the sun ! we have not seen it for weeks ! ' or, ' I am flying to the sunny south in search of warmth. I can bear the chill darkness of our climate no longer.' And here we were basking in tropical heat and glare, with dust and flat roofs, palm-trees, darkened houses, and mosquito curtains, and with an exquisite feeling of being in a new world, which opened out like a revelation to us.

After four days at sea, the sense of terra firma, the memory of a successful voyage, letters of good news from home, and the novelty of Eastern life, made us all very happy. From the windows of our hotel we looked out on to gardens filled with tropical plants, palms, and tamarisk - trees, intermingled with flat-roofed houses, veiled women, and picturesque men, while camels, and donkeys in smart trappings, crowded the streets ; and, as we passed through the corridors of the hotel, black youths, clad in loose white garments, — the housemaids of the establishment,— salaamed respectfully whenever we came near them. There is little in modern Alexandria of spepompey's pillar. 9 cial interest, but it is rich in historic memories, and dear to the Church of Christ in connexion with the noble stand made by St. Athanasius against the Arian heresies, and as the birth-place of Apollos, that ' certain Jew,' so eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures, so fervent in spirit, who must have been such an infinite jt>y and comfort to the great Apostle of the Gentiles with his burning enthusiasm and his craving for human sympathy.

We drove about the town, and went to see Pompey's Pillar, — a monolith, with a Corinthian capital of exquisitely beautiful proportions. A background of graceful palm-trees made it look quite lonely. The Egyptian government have recently pre sented to the city of New York an obelisk very similar to Cleopatra's Needle, which was being packed for transmission to America when we were at Alexandria. It certainly does seem a great pity that these national monuments should be removed from their native soil ; but, in talking to the very courteous American who was superintend ing the removal of the column, we felt that, when we called to mind the Thames Embankment and Cleopatra's Needle, our lips, at any rate, were closed on the subject. The next day saw us en route for Cairo, one hundred and thirty miles by rail.

The whole line through the Delta of the Nile — the green region of Egypt — is deeply inter esting to a stranger, although the country is flat and ugly, and the palm and tamarisk -trees are few and far between, and there is nothing to shade from the heat, or to relieve from the glare of the sun's rays. The crops are very green, and the land seems rich and fertile. The effect of the water of the Nile upon the desert is simply magical. Irrigate the land, and it at once brings forth abundant crops. The owners of the soil are well aware of this, and from the train we saw on all sides the peasants actively engaged in directing the streams of water aright. They were wonderfully busy ploughing the ground with a yoke of oxen, harnessed to straight wooden ploughs such as you see in Scriptural pictures.

A beaten track, which serves as a road, runs along by the side of the railway from Alexandria to Cairo. It happened to be Friday, the Mos lem Sabbath, when we passed in the train. The EGYPTIAN PEASANTS. road was crowded with people ; some walking, some riding donkeys, some on camels. The stations, too, were filled with fellaheen of the poorest class. It seemed to be the Sabbath lounge. Many were in rags and tatters ; many were trying to sell their wares, oranges, lettuces, or water. The Arab villages which we passed are deplorable. They look as if a number of boxes were piled up one behind another. Each adobe, or mud-baked cabin, has one door but no window, and a flat roof covered with reeds or roughly tempered mud. Large heaps of dusty refuse are banked up around them on every side ; children of all ages and degrees of nudeness roll about on the dust-heaps ; scavenger dogs prowl in and out, or he sleeping in the sun.

Groups of camels and donkeys, picturesque-looking men wearing the abba (a coarse, woollen outer garment, with broad white and brown stripes), and gracefully draped women carrying large water jars, Hke the pictures of Rebekah at the well, move about amidst filth and squalor, and under feathery palm-trees. There is generally a group of these trees near each village. We were told that the ' fellaheen,' or Egyp tian peasants, are really well off, in spite of appearances to the contrary, and that they accu mulate money, which they hide in the ground. They pay a tax of ten shillings a-year on every donkey, sixteen shillings for a camel, and a pound for every horse. Their wants seem very few, and they have no luxuries. They live on coarse bread, eggs, cheese, rice, lentils, vege tables, fruit, and raw sugar-cane ; they drink cold water and milk, and seem to thrive on the simple fare.

The contrast of grace and beauty in dress and form, combined with degradation of habits, is most extraordinary. The people are hand some and well made. They have very com monly a lofty bearing and noble countenances, not unlike those which are found on old Egyp tian bas-reliefs of the ancient worshippers of Osiris, and they drape themselves so artistically that it is a pleasure to look at them. Then, on the other hand, how they can live in such de grading dirt, and with habits so uncivilised, is almost inconceivable to a European. Both the cotton and the corn crops of 1879 were most abundant, and the natives seem quiet and contented under the rule of the present Khedive. They appear to have confidence in the CAIRO quasi-European protection which they enjoy. The country is certainly advancing rapidly in prosperity.

The imports of 1879 at 5,130,000/. show an advance of 200,000/., and the exports in the same year leaped from 8,304,000/. to 13,783,000/. Of this sum cotton supplied 9,676,000/., the remainder consisting of wheat, rice, barley, lentils, ostrich feathers, elephant teeth, &c. Almost the first object which met our view on entering Cairo was the figure of a very tall English fellow-traveller, riding on an exceed ingly small donkey — so small, indeed, that it was difficult to be quite sure whether he was walking with the donkey under him, or whether the donkey was in any way supporting him. A very lightly clothed mahogany-coloured boy, with a long stick, was urging on the animal, till it broke into a gallop, and the appearance of our tall friend was very comical. He had already prepared us for this kind of locomotion, and had pointed out the peculiar advantage of it — that, if at any moment you prefer walking, you have only to put your feet down to the ground, let the donkey go on from under you, and quietly pursue your own way.

In point of fact, the donkeys of Cairo play the part of hansom cabs in London. It may be said broadly that no gentleman, if unaccompanied by ladies, uses any other means of locomotion. A donkey-boy always runs behind, making the most extraordinary noises, in order to urge his donkey on, and also to warn foot-passengers of the dangers they incur if they obstruct his onward progress. Occasionally, too, when the rider is inwardly congratulating himself upon the successful way in which he is balancing himself upon his quadruped, a violent blow from behind on the legs of his unfortunate animal disturbs his tranquillity, and oftentimes his equilibrium also. The movement of the donkey under these trying circumstances is not unlike that of a cab suddenly swerving to one side when caught in the groove of a tram-car.

One word about the donkey-boys. They are quite an institution of Cairo, and as full of fun as an Irish car-driver. The way in which they puff off the qualities of their donkeys is irresistible. ' Mine very good donkey, saar.' ' Take mine, saar.' ' Mine Dr. Kenealy — mine best, saar,' and so on. BEAUTY OF CAIRO. 15 Cairo is a town which fairly takes the travel ler by storm. Whether he will or not, he sur renders sooner or later to its captivating in fluences. You are in the midst of Oriental magnificence united with European luxuries. You go out into the bazaars, and revel in all the glories of colouring for which the Eastern nations are so conspicuous. You thread your way through narrow streets, with overhanging balconies and latticed windows, and the most beautiful specimens of Saracenic architecture.

You fancy yourself living in the days of the Arabian Nights, and j^ou return to your hotel to enjoy all the comforts of modern civilisation. Nowhere are the two so closely united. Damas cus, which is sometimes compared with Cairo, falls far short of it in this respect. Damascus is a city whose prime is passed. Fanaticism, and the baneful influences of an infamous govern ment, have shorn her of her splendour. But Cairo is a rising city. The late Khedive has been much abused, but he certainly did a great deal to advance the national prosperity and civilisation of Egypt. Cairo responds to good treat ment, and trade and commerce flourish. But with all this it is quite impossible not to deplore the neglect and demolition of mosques and old houses — monuments of the graceful Arab architecture of mediæval days, which constitute one of the chief glories of Cairo.

In many instances these are replaced by modern Parisian buildings, which are but little in harmony with their antique surroundings. There should be a universal protest against that mania for restoration which has taken the form of contempt for the lovely and unique architecture of old Cairo. The New Grand Hotel, at which we stayed in Cairo, was built by the late Khedive to take in some of the many notabilities who came to Egypt for the opening of the Suez Canal. It is a fine European hotel, clean, and well appointed, situated in one of the principal thoroughfares of Cairo. The gardens in front are filled with lovely flowers and shrubs — brugmantias, and bananas twenty feet high, bright purple bougainvilleas streaming in a pro fusion of festoons, salvias, tree-mallows, fan shaped palms, roses, and geraniums.

It is all very lovely, and the view from the balcony is most charming — the public gardens, the town and citadel, mosques and minarets, the for-ever passing crowd of walkers, and riders, and drivers, SYCES the carriages with running syces, and an endless succession of picturesque figures, like slides in a magic-lantern. A word must be said about these running syces of Cairo, for they are a great element of beauty in the streets, clad in soft white garments, bound round the waist with a sash ; long, loose sleeves, which, as they run, are caught by the wind, and have the effect of wings ; gold embroidered waistcoat of scarlet or blue ; white, full trousers reaching to the knee, with bare legs and feet. They carry a long cane in their hands, and run in front of the carriages, shout ' Ouah ! Ouah ! ' — ' Make way !

Make way ! ' They are lithesome and agile young fellows, and the streets are so crowded from morning to night (for every one fives in the open air) that these runners are not so much a luxury as a necessity. They generally get upon the box of the carriage, or behind it, if you go outside the town. It was not long after our arrival before we sallied forth to reconnoitre the bazaars. Who has not heard and read of the bazaars of the East ? And yet there are few scenes more difficult to realise. The whole thing is so c absolutely different from anything you ever see in Europe. It upsets so entirely all your pre conceived ideas as to sale and purchase. Every thing is done by contraries. The seller, instead of displaying his wares, very frequently — always if of value — conceals them in the recesses of an iron safe, which is opened with difficulty and reluctance.

The shopman sits, the buyer stands. The warehouseman puts on the most nonchalant air, as if the conclusion of any transaction in the way of trade was the very last thing which would occupy his thoughts. The principal street in which the bazaars are is called the Mouski. It is long and nar row, unpaved, and on wet days therefore ankle deep in mud. But ' it never rains at Cairo,' as the saying is, and so the dust is a more tangible evil than the mud. All the various shopkeepers belonging to one trade congregate in the same quarter, so that if you want to make various purchases of different articles, you have to pass, not merely from shop to shop, but from quarter to quarter. At one moment you are bewildered by gay horse-trappings and magnificent saddles, which are displayed promi nently to tempt the native riders — they delight BAZAARS OF CAIRO. in colour — and the saddles really are most gorgeous.

Then a turn brings you to the shoe quarter, full of red and yellow slippers, with the toes turned up in a peak. After that you pass on to the Manchester cotton goods, filling a small street of stalls. Then comes the narrow, dull, silversmiths' quarter, where necklaces of the most beautiful workmanship are hidden away in remote corners ; and then the Oriental stuffs and embroideries, rich and rare, with the well-known stall of ' Far Away Moses.' The shops, however, are of the most insignifi cant character, generally speaking, little more than an open front of seven, eight, or ten feet square, on the boards of which the vendor, clad in a loose robe and turban, sits cross-legged among his goods, smoking a narghileh, and wearing upon his countenance an expression of dignified and solemn vacancy.

If you want to make a purchase he invites you to come and sit down by him, sometimes pressing upon you small glasses of hot, sweet tea. The narrow footways between the shops are generally covered over with open woodwork, and mats thrown upon it, or with festoons of creepers or close trellis — anything, in short, which may serve as shelter from the rays of the sun. The streets are thus darkened, which is refreshing in the glare of the East. Such were the bazaars to which we went, and there is a charm about them which it is im possible for those who have not seen them to understand. There is a perpetually moving throng of variously dressed people of every shade of complexion, from the jet-black Ethiopian to the fair European. There are Egyptians, Arabs and Nubians, Bedouins and Greeks, Syrians and English, Americans, Russians, Jews, and repre sentatives of every sort of nationality.

There are closely veiled women with yashmaks, children with scarcely a rag on, dogs, donkeys, mules, Pashas in grand carriages, with gaily dressed syces running before them, hawkers with trays of sweetmeats and cooling drinks, Cook's tourists on donkeys, and camels carrying great loads of grass or long trunks of trees. Every instant you are in jeopardy. The cry of ' Ouah ! Ouah ! ' is heard almost ceaselessly, warn ing you to take care of your limbs, and you leap aside just in time to avoid being knocked down by an advancing string of camels. Then perhaps a native lady, riding straddle-wise on a donkey, SCENES IN THE MOUSKI. muffled up in a black silk garment, which gives the appearance of an inflated balloon, bears down upon you, and you have to exercise all your skill to give her free passage.

The probability is that in avoiding Scylla you fall into Charybdis, and knock over either a money-changer with his table ensconced at the street corner, or some of the ubiquitous vendors of sweet edibles. The novelty of the whole scene was so bewildering and excit ing that it was like calm after a storm when we reached the haven of our hotel. We were all anxious that our first expedition should be to the Pyramids. We lost no time, therefore, in making the necessary arrangements. There is now a fairly good road all the way from Cairo to the Pyramids of Ghizeh — about an hour and a half's drive. As we crossed the Nile, the spot where Moses is said to have been found was pointed out to us. This was the first Scriptural ground we had trodden ; and although the exact place must be mere supposition, yet the very fact of standing by a river so often mentioned in the Bible was a matter of the greatest interest.

The Nile stretched out before us, with the Pyramids in the distance, and we pictured the figures of the Egyptian princess and her maidens walking down for their evening bath, the little ark of bulrushes, the wailing child, the faithful sister, the poor, anxious mother, and the brilliant future in store for the helpless infant. It is supposed that the ark of bulrushes was made of the papyrus, and not of the reeds which grow abundantly in every little watercourse in Egypt. The Nile, where we first saw it, is about the size of the Thames at London, and the water looked somewhat thick and dark-coloured. But the Egyptians love it as a sort of divinity, for their very life hangs on its rise and fall, and every blade of green in the land depends on its waters for existence. The road along which we drove has been recently made and planted with an avenue of trees by the late Khedive, in honour of their European Majesties who came to Egypt for the opening of the Suez Canal.

Rows of camels were continually passing us with their plaintive, patient faces, led by tall, swarthy fellaheen. It is about nine miles from Cairo to the Pyramids ; and unfortunately, when we had gone about half way, the springs of one of our carriages broke, and there was nothing to be done but to send the ladies on in the carriage which was still sound, PYRAMIDS OF GHIZEH. and for the gentlemen to walk, while one of the syces was sent back to Cairo to get another conveyance. Happily for those who walked, there were banks of clouds which shielded them somewhat from the piercing rays of the sun. The Pyramids were full in sight all the way, and you never get wearied of gazing at them. The Pyramids ! Strange, indeed, it seemed really to see what had been from childhood one of the unknown wonders of the world.