MOUNT TABOR.
The Plain of Esdraelon, in Palestine, is often mentioned in sacred history, as the great battle-field of the Jewish and other nations, under the names of the Valley of Mejiddo and the Valley of Jizreel, and by Josephus as the Great Plain. The convenience of its extent and situation for military action and display has, from the earliest periods of history down to our own day, caused its surface at certain intervals to be moistened with the blood, and covered with the bodies of conflicting warriors of almost every nation under heaven. This extensive plain, exclusive of three great arms which stretch eastward towards the Valley of the Jordan, may be said to be in the form of an acute triangle, having the measure of 13 or 14 miles on the north, about 18 on the east, and above 20 on the south-west. Before the verdure of spring and early summer has been parched up by the heat and drought of the late summer and autumn, the view of the Great Plain is, from its fertility and beauty, very delightful. In June, yellow fields of grain, with green patches of millet and cotton, chequer the landscape like a carpet. The plain itself is almost without villages, but there are several on the slopes of the inclosing hills, especially on the side of Mount Carmel.
On the borders of this plain Mount Tabor stands out alone in magnificent grandeur. Seen from the south-west its fine proportions present a semi-globular appearance; but from the north-west it more resembles a truncated cone. By an ancient path, which winds considerably, one may ride to the summit, where is a small oblong plain with the foundations of ancient buildings. The view from the summit is declared by Lord Nugent to be the most splendid he could recollect having ever seen from any natural height. The sides of the mountain are mostly covered with bushes and woods of oak trees, with occasionally pistachio trees, presenting a beautiful appearance, and affording a welcome and agreeable shade. There are various tracks up its sides, often crossing each other, and the ascent generally occupies about an hour. The crest of the mountain is table-land, 600 or 700 yards in height from north to south, and about half as much across, and a flat field of about an acre occurs at a level of some 20 or 25 feet lower than the eastern brow. There are remains of several small ruined tanks on the crest, which still catch the rain water dripping through the crevices of the rock, and preserve it cool and clear, it is said, throughout the year.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MOUNT TABOR.]
The tops of this range of mountains are barren, but the slopes and valleys afford pasturage, and are capable of cultivation, from the numerous springs which are met with in all directions. Cultivation is, however, chiefly found on the seaward slopes; there many flourishing villages exist, and every inch of ground is turned to account by the industrious natives.
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[Ill.u.s.tration: SYCAMORE.]
Here, amidst the crags of the rocks, are to be seen the remains of the renowned cedars with which Lebanon once abounded; but a much larger proportion of firs, sycamores, mulberry trees, fig trees, and vines now exist.
UNA AND THE LION.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Letter S.]
She, that most faithful lady, all this while, Forsaken, woful, solitary maid, Far from the people"s throng, as in exile, In wilderness and wasteful deserts stray"d To seek her knight; who, subtlely betray"d By that false vision which th" enchanter wrought, Had her abandon"d. She, of nought afraid, Him through the woods and wide wastes daily sought, Yet wish"d for tidings of him--none unto her brought.
One day, nigh weary of the irksome way, From her unhasty beast she did alight; And on the gra.s.s her dainty limbs did lay In secret shadow, far from all men"s sight: From her fair head her fillet she undight, And laid her stole aside; her angel face, As the great eye that lights the earth, shone bright, And made a sunshine in that shady place, That never mortal eye beheld such heavenly grace.
It fortun"d that, from out the thicket wood A ramping lion rushed suddenly, And hunting greedy after savage blood, The royal virgin helpless did espy; At whom, with gaping mouth full greedily To seize and to devour her tender corse, When he did run, he stopp"d ere he drew nigh, And loosing all his rage in quick remorse, As with the sight amazed, forgot his furious force.
Then coming near, he kiss"d her weary feet, And lick"d her lily hand with fawning tongue, As he her wronged innocence did meet: Oh! how can beauty master the most strong, And simple truth subdue intent of wrong!
His proud submission, and his yielded pride, Though dreading death, when she had marked long, She felt compa.s.sion in her heart to slide, And drizzling tears to gush that might not be denied.
And with her tears she pour"d a sad complaint, That softly echoed from the neighbouring wood; While sad to see her sorrowful constraint, The kingly beast upon her gazing stood: With pity calm"d he lost all angry mood.
At length, in close breast shutting up her pain, Arose the virgin born of heavenly brood, And on her snowy palfrey rode again To seek and find her knight, if him she might attain.
The lion would not leave her desolate, But with her went along, as a strong guard Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: Still when she slept, he kept both watch and ward, And when she waked, he waited diligent With humble service to her will prepared.
From her fair eyes he took commandment, And ever by her looks conceived her intent.
SPENSER.
DANISH ENCAMPMENT.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Letter S.]
Seven miles from the sea-port of Boston, in Lincolnshire, lies the rural town of Swineshead, once itself a port, the sea having flowed up to the market-place, where there was a harbour. The name of Swineshead is familiar to every reader of English history, from its having been the resting-place of King John, after he lost the whole of his baggage, and narrowly escaped with his life, when crossing the marshes from Lynn to Sleaford, the castle of which latter place was then in his possession.
The King halted at the Abbey, close to the town of Swineshead, which place he left on horseback; but being taken ill, was moved in a litter to Sleaford, and thence to his castle at Newark, where he died on the following day, in the year 1216.
Apart from this traditional interest, Swineshead has other antiquarian and historical a.s.sociations. The circular Danish encampment, sixty yards in diameter, surrounded by a double fosse, was, doubtless, a post of importance, when the Danes, or Northmen, carried their ravages through England in the time of Ethelred I., and the whole country pa.s.sed permanently into the Danish hands about A.D. 877. The incessant inroads of the Danes, who made constant descents on various parts of the coast, burning the towns and villages, and laying waste the country in all directions, led to that stain upon the English character, the Danish ma.s.sacre. The troops collected to oppose these marauders always lost courage and fled, and their leaders, not seldom, set them the example.
In 1002, peace was purchased for a sum of 24,000 and a large supply of provisions. Meantime, the King and his councillors resolved to have recourse to a most atrocious expedient for their future security. It had been the practice of the English Kings, from the time of Athelstane, to have great numbers of Danes in their pay, as guards, or household troops; and these, it is said, they quartered on their subjects, one on each house. The household troops, like soldiers in general, paid great attention to their dress and appearance, and thus became very popular with the generality of people; but they also occasionally behaved with great insolence, and were also strongly suspected of holding secret intelligence with their piratical countrymen. It was therefore resolved to ma.s.sacre the Hus-carles, as they were called, and their families, throughout England. Secret orders to this effect were sent to all parts, and on St. Brice"s day, November 13th, 1002, the Danes were everywhere fallen on and slain. The ties of affinity (for many of them had married and settled in the country) were disregarded; even Gunhilda, sister to Sweyn, King of Denmark, though a Christian, was not spared, and with her last breath she declared that her death would bring the greatest evils upon England. The words of Gunhilda proved prophetic. Sweyn, burning for revenge and glad of a pretext for war, soon made his appearance on the south coast, and during four years he spread devastation through all parts of the country, until the King Ethelred agreed to give him 30,000 and provisions as before for peace, and the realm thus had rest for two years. But this short peace was but a prelude to further disturbances; and indeed for two centuries, dating from the reign of Egbert, England was destined to become a prey to these fierce and fearless invaders.
[Ill.u.s.tration: DANISH ENCAMPMENT AT SWINESHEAD, LINCOLNSHIRE.]
The old Abbey of Swineshead was demolished in 1610, and the present structure, known as Swineshead Abbey, was built from the materials.
THE NAMELESS STREAM
[Ill.u.s.tration: Letter B.]
Beautiful stream! By rock and dell There"s not an inch in all thy course I have not track"d. I know thee well: I know where blossoms the yellow gorse; I know where waves the pale bluebell, And where the orchis and violets dwell.
I know where the foxglove rears its head, And where the heather tufts are spread; I know where the meadow-sweets exhale, And the white valerians load the gale.
I know the spot the bees love best, And where the linnet has built her nest.
I know the bushes the grouse frequent, And the nooks where the shy deer browse the bent.
I know each tree to thy fountain head-- The lady birches, slim and fair;
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The feathery larch, the rowans red, The brambles trailing their tangled hair; And each is link"d to my waking thought By some remembrance fancy-fraught.
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Yet, lovely stream, unknown to fame, Thou hast oozed, and flow"d, and leap"d, and run, Ever since Time its course begun, Without a record, without a name.
I ask"d the shepherd on the hill-- He knew thee but as a common rill; I ask"d the farmer"s blue-eyed daughter-- She knew thee but as a running water; I ask"d the boatman on the sh.o.r.e (He was never ask"d to tell before)-- Thou wert a brook, and nothing more.
Yet, stream, so dear to me alone, I prize and cherish thee none the less That thou flowest unseen, unpraised, unknown, In the unfrequented wilderness.
Though none admire and lay to heart How good and beautiful thou art, Thy flow"rets bloom, thy waters run, And the free birds chaunt thy benison.
Beauty is beauty, though unseen; And those who love it all their days, Find meet reward in their soul serene, And the inner voice of prayer and praise.