SHILOH, now Seilûn.—To visit this interesting site costs 1/2 an hour's extra ride. We turn to the rt. below Sinjil, cross the little plain close on the N. side of Turmus ‘Aya, ascend the gentle rocky acclivity, pass the water shed, and have the ruins before us, only 25 min, from the mouth of Wady el-Jîb. We are disappointed. There is nothing here in either the ruins or the. scenery to attract notice. It is utterly featureless —naked rounded hills, paved with rocks and stones, from which the ruins can scarcely be distinguished. Mr. Stanley has well said that, “had it not been for the preservation of its name, and for the extreme precision with which its situation is described in the book of Judges, the spot could never have been identified; and indeed, from the time of Jerome till the year 1838, its real site was completely forgotten, and its name was transferred to that commanding height of Gibeon (Neby Samwîl), which a later age naturally conceived to be a more congenial spot for the sacred place where for so many centuries was ‘the tent which He had
pitched among men :’—
‘ Our living dread, who dwells
In Silo, His bright sanctuary.’ ”
A little rounded tell projects northward from the ridge, having a deep glen passing at right angles to it on the N., and a shallower one shelving down into it on each side: over the summit of this tell are scattered the ruins of Shiloh. The surrounding hills and vales are all, as I have stated, rocky; and they have a desolate, forbidding aspect, not relieved by a single bold feature. Yet they are all terraced; and in spring the green corn streaks the uniform gray of the rocks, Even the very ruins are formed into terraces; and the little courts of the houses are here and there converted into miniature corn-fields.
Before reaching the main site we come to a square building, originally designed for a church; but afterwards, when piety yielded to fear, converted into a fortress, The walls are 4 ft. thick, and strengthened on the outside by sloping buttresses of a later date. The lintel of the door has a sculptured amphora between wreaths. The interior does not exceed 20 ft. square, and is encumbered with some Corinthian columns, now broken. Just at the southern base of the tell is another square building, comparatively modern. It was once a mosk, and has thus escaped the hands of the destroyer. In front of it is a noble oak-tree. The rest of the ruins are those of a modern village, with here and there a few fragments of columns and large squared stones, pointing to earlier and more prosperous days.
The position of Shiloh is described in Scripture with unusual fulness : “On the north side of Bethel, on the east of the highway that goeth up from Bethel to Shechem, and on the south of Lebonah.” (Jud. Xxi. 19.) That these ruins are on the E. of the main road we have already seen ; and we shall soon see that Lubban, the ancient Lebonah, is about 2 m. to the N.W. There cannot be a doubt, therefore, that we are here amid the ruins of Shiloh.
On this spot, probably on the summit of the little hill, the Tabernacle of the Lord was first permanently set up in ‘Canaan ; and here the Israelites assembled to receive each his allotted portion of the promised land. (Josh. xviii.) The tabernacle and the ark remained here until the close of Eli's life. To this place the infant Samuel was brought up from Ramah, and dedicated to the Lord by a grateful mother. Here old Eli fell down dead on receiving the tidings of the death of his sons in battle, and the capture of the Ark. (1 Sam. i. 24-28; iv. 17-18.) There was a great annual festival held at Shiloh in honour of the ark, at which the village maidens were wont to dance; they probably assembled in the valley below. It
was on one of these occasions that the remnant of the Benjamites concealed themselves among the vineyards on the hill-sides, and, suddenly rushing upon the unconscious damsels, carried off 200 of them. (Jud. xxi. 19-24.) With the capture of the ark the glory of Shiloh departed, and only one other incident in its future history is worth recording. Ahijah the prophet lived here; and Abijah, the wife of Jeroboam, came in disguise to consult him about her sick child; and instead of the comfort she sought she heard from the prophet’s lips the fearful judgment of God pronounced on a sinful house. (1 Kings xiv. 1-17.) It appears from the words of Jeremiah that Shiloh was soon afterwards entirely destroyed ; and in Jerome’s day scarcely a foundation remained to mark the place where God’s altar once stood. (Jer. Vii. 14; xxvi. 6.) “But go ye now unto my place which was in Shiloh, where I set my name at the first, and see what I did to it for the wickedness of my people Israel.” (Jer. vii. 12.)
1/2 m. E. of the ruins, in a deep wild glen, is the fountain of Shiloh, with an old reservoir beside it. In the rocky banks around are many excavated tombs, and there is one in an isolated rock. .
On the top of the ridge beyond the valley, 1 m. or more N. of Seilûn, is the little village of Kuriyût, the Coreæ of Josephus, inhabited by a set of sturdy thievish rascals, who often gather round unwary travellers as they get entangled amid the ruins of Shiloh, and then demand bakhshish. They usually make a grand flourish
with guns and long knives; and if the least timidity is shown they are sure to gain their object. The best plan to follow is to take no notice whatever of the gentry; but just calmly to look over the ruins, and then calmly ride off. To accomplish this, however, a good guide is necessary, so as to save all risk of getting entangled among the rocks or in the glen below.
From the ruins of Seilûn we descend through terraced corn-fields into the glen on the N.; and then turning to the l. follow the torrent-bed till it opens on a little fertile plain, and joins the main road about 1/4 m.N. of the ruined Kban el-Lubbân. This plain is about 1 m. in length, and is deeply imbedded among dark hills. It is drained by a narrow ravine which breaks through the western ridge, conveying a winter tributary to the ‘Aujeh on the plain of Sharon. On the hill-side W. of the plain is the hamlet of Lubbân; it is still inhabited, but there is a venerable look about its old gray houses, and the sepulchral caves that dot the surrounding cliffs, which reminds us of the old city of LEBONAH, that in the days of Israel’s judges lay between Shiloh and Shechem. (Jud. Xxi. 19.) It gives its name to the ruined khan, and to the plain and wady that drains it.
Our road — now deserving that name—runs up to the N. end of the plain, and then turns to the rt. Into another narrower one. In 1/2 h. the village of Sawieh is on the l., perched 10 min. more there is a ruined khan, or castle, on the rt., with a noble oak-tree near it. Here we descend into a deep wady which crosses our course from E. to W. On reaching the bottom we get a view of a picturesque village called Kubalân, situated amid olive-groves on a hillside, a mile or so to the S.E. There is another, called Yetma, opposite it on the N. side of the valley. A long winding path is now before us, leading up a rocky acclivity to the summit of a bleak rocky ridge. On reaching the crest after 1/2 h.’s toilsome clambering, a scene suddenly bursts upon our view for which we are wholly unprepared. A single glance repays us for all the labour. We feel inclined to pause, and dismount, and sit down on a rock, to take a long attentive look at the landscape. The country has been gradually improving since we left the bleak heights of Benjamin. There has been more cultivation, and more soil to cultivate —more trees and more corn-fields. We have had several of those little fertile plains, too, which are the distinguishing characteristics of the mountain territory of Ephraim. They are unknown in Judah and Benjamin. “If Judah,” says Mr. Stanley, “was the wild lion that guarded the south, and couched in the fastness of Zion, so Ephraim was to be the more peaceful, but not less powerful buffalo, who was to rove the rich vales of central Palestine, and defend the frontier on the north.” Every step we advance here, every new view we obtain, proves to us that Ephraim was indeed blessed with “the chief things of the ancient mountains ”’— vines, and figs, and olives, and corn, all growing luxuriantly amid the “lasting hills.” It was not in vain the dying patriarch deliberately rested his right hand on the head of Joseph's younger son, saying, “In thee shall Israel bless, saying, ‘God make thee as Ephraim.’” (Gen. xlviii. 18-20.)
But it is on gaining the crest of this ridge we are especially impressed with the richness of this section of Palestine. Before us lies a verdant plain stretching away northward for about 7 m., and varying from 1 to 2 in breadth. Its surface is unbroken by fence or village; while here and there along its sides are little clumps of olive-trees giving it a park-like beauty. Along its eastern side runs a line of low, dark hills, shooting out rocky promontories into the plain. On the W. the hills are much higher—their summits overtopping all around them—but they are more rugged and barren. On the highest point over-hanging the plain may be seen a little white wely; this is the landmark of Gerizim, and stands on the very spot where the Samaritan Temple once stood. Beyond it, and partly covered by it, is Ebal—only distinctly seen from this point of view when the shadows are favourable. Between the two is the opening of the valley of Nâbalus, the ancient Shechem. Another hill, scarcely less celebrated than Gerizim, here first comes into view. Far away on the northern horizon the clear eye will distinguish a pale blue cone, tipped and streaked with white—that is Hermon,
A rapid descent of 1/2 h. brings us to the southern end of the plain, now called el-Mukhna. Here a wady crosses from E. to W., and in it are situated several villages. After going up the short ascent into the plain we have the large village of Hawâra close on our l., on the lower slope of the mountain. The road now branches —one branch on the left, winding along the base of Gerizim, crosses a spur of the mountain and enters the valley of Shechem; the other keeps down near the centre of the plain, passes Jacob's well at the mouth of the valley, and joins the former near Nabulus. Both are good, and there is little difference in their length. We are struck as we advance with the fertility of the plain, now an uninterrupted expanse of cornfields extending from end to end and from side to side—with the villages, which, instead of being built for convenience in the plain, in the midst of their territories, are perched for security high up on the hills on each side—with the people, a wild daring-looking set, having somewhat of a Greek cast of countenance, and all the Greek fire and malignity glancing from their eyes. The red cap (Tarbûsh) is long, nearly resembling in shape the nightcap of the Naples lazzaroni, drooping at the side over a circlet of white turban. All are armed. A long gun, and a hybrid weapon, a kind of cross between a dagger and a sword, stuck diagonally through the front of the girdle —such are the universal equipments. Some add to these pistols, and almost all a heavy knob-headed club. They are active and athletic, too, and look as if they could use the arms they are so fond of displaying. The western travelier will be no little amused—astonished perhaps—to meet one after another of these gentry driving home a half-starved donkey with a load of grain or straw that he might almost put in his pocket; himself clothed in rags, and yet armed cap-â-pie. “ What is he afraid of?” “What has he to defend?” one naturally asks. His life perhaps. A blood feud exists between his family and some other family, or between his village and some other village. One of his remote ancestors 300 or 400 years ago killed a man; and that man’s family killed another in revenge; and then another was killed in return: and thus it has run on ever since. Or two villages have disputed about a stray goat; there was first tremendous shouting, especially among the women urging on their husbands and brothers to the fight; then in the moment of excitement weapons were used and blood was shed ; and blood calls for blood. Thus every member of the family to the remotest degree, or every inhabitant of the village, as the case may be, is kept in constant dread. He stalks about armed at all hours, in all places—with his goats on the mountain -side, with his donkey on the road, with his plough and yoke of oxen in the field ; in seed-time and harvest, summer and winter, cold and heat. Imagination makes the “avenger of blood” follow him like his shadow, ever watchful for an unguarded moment to fall upon him. Many a family has this blood-revenge (the dîm of the Syrian and thâr of the Bedawy) compelled to flee from house and home, and seek refuge among strangers; many a village it has left desolate, for none will live where the sentence of death hangs constantly over them. In the Koran this fearful law is commanded: “O true believers, the law of retaliation is ordained to you for the slain; the free shall die for the free.” Even in the Old Testament it was at least recognised; though regulated by some merciful arrangements and rules. This very city of Shechem was one of the places of refuge to which the manslayer was appointed to flee. (Josh, xx.; Deut. xix. 1-10.)
We follow the lower road, and 1 1/4 h. from Hawaira brings us to Jacob's Well, just at the entrance of the valley that leads up to Nâbulus. Here the Saviour rested at noon-day, wearied with the long walk up the hot plain, having come like ourselves from Jerusalem. There is little to be seen at it; and the traveller may either satisfy his curiosity by a passing look now, or, as I would recommend, he may return in the still evening or the quiet morning to read the story of that strange interview between our Lord and the Samaritan woman, and to allow the mind to luxuriate in those holy associations which the spot calls up. An account of the well and its history I give below. The little white enclosure a few hundred yards to the N. is Joseph’s Tomb. (See below.) 1/2 h.’s ride up the glen brings us to Nâbulus.