William Nelson A Memoir 10

William Nelson A Memoir 10

To this succeeded discussions on the value of the local traditions in

reference to the scenes latterly associated with so much superstition

and deceit; and the possibility of identifying them with the help of

local topography and the sacred narrative. “‘Where,’ he asked me, ‘would

you locate the scene of the ascension? Was it, or could it have been, on

the traditional spot at the Church of the Ascension on the summit of

Olivet? If you adopt this tradition, then how,’ he asked, ‘do you

explain the words of the evangelist: “He led them out as far as to

Bethany”?’ My reply was, ‘I do not admit the reality of the traditional

site.’ He said this impressed himself very deeply when he crossed over

the Mount of Olives to Bethany. He felt convinced that the scene of that

wonderful last interview with the disciples was some spot near the

village. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘our Lord took the disciples to a retired

place, not in view either of Jerusalem or of the village of Bethany.

Then,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘was there not some analogy between this

scene and that of the transfiguration on a high mountain apart? Would

not the solitude impress the disciples more forcibly with the glory of

the appearance of the angels, and of his own close and immediate

intercourse with the hosts of heaven?’ The thoughtfulness and depth of

many of Mr. Nelson’s remarks upon the events of the life and death of

Jesus often struck me. His visit to Palestine was brief; but he grasped

in a very short time the most interesting and important points, and he

connected them, with a kind of intuitive readiness and accuracy, with

the events of the sacred narrative. He spoke on several occasions of the

noble and yet very peculiar site of the Holy City, different in many

respects from his previous ideas; but the moment he saw it, more deeply

fixing in his mind the truth of the Psalmist’s words: ‘Beautiful for

situation is Mount Zion.’ The view from the top of Olivet, and that from

the old road which winds round and along its side from Bethany, was, he

told me, to him by far the most instructive. ‘I read,’ he said, ‘the

words of Jesus, when he looked on and wept over the city, with a feeling

of their reality and wonderful vividness such as I had never experienced

before.’ Another thing he observed more than once: ‘I was disappointed

in the scenery of Palestine. I did not see, and I could not fully

understand, the glowing descriptions in some parts of scripture of its

fertility and beauty. When I thought of England and Scotland, and

compared their fertile lowlands and magnificent highlands with the bare

plains and rocky hills of Judah, I felt much difficulty in divesting my

mind of the idea that even the sacred writers indulged in exaggeration.

But,’ he added, ‘I suppose my Western ideas were entirely different from

theirs as to what are the elements of richness and grandeur.’ I reminded

him of the words of scripture: ‘A land of corn and wine and oil olive.’

‘Yes,’ he said; ‘most probably an Eastern would despise even the best

parts of Scotland because they want the vines and the olives,’”

 

The experiences of this visit to the sacred scenes of Bible story left

an enduring impression on William Nelson’s mind; and their special

character in association with his own early training justify some detail

in reference to researches otherwise only possessed of personal

interest. As a traveller, he made no pretension to geographical

exploration or scientific research; and unless when in company with one

from whom he could derive information, he rarely referred to his

experiences while abroad. His longest journeys were regarded by himself

as only extended holiday rambles. But they were carried out with

characteristic zeal; and some of the incidents which may be gleaned from

them have their biographical value in so far as they disclose traits of

personal character. He made his way by the desert route from Palestine

to Egypt, where he spent his Christmas in Grand Cairo, and commenced

the ascent of the Nile early in the following January. His

fellow-traveller in the latter country, Major MacEnery, furnishes some

interesting reminiscences of their voyage up the Nile. “I preserve a

lively memory,” he writes, “of the unvarying geniality of our companion,

and of his spirit of exploration. In this respect he was truly

remarkable; indefatigable in the pursuit of information concerning even

the minutest object of interest within reach; never satisfied without a

personal inspection, when at all possible; neither hunger, thirst, nor

fatigue deterring him from the gratification of being able to say

conscientiously, ‘I have seen it.’”

 

The impressions left on the traveller’s mind by the scenes of special

interest in the Holy Land, and some of the incidents which their memory

recalled, were a frequent source of pleasure to his friends in after

years. Some of them indeed enjoyed more tangible memorials, in the shape

of inscribed tablets of the wood of the Mount of Olives; a carved

memento of the Dead Sea fashioned from its black volcanic rock; a gold

shekel,--subsequently deposited by Mr. James Campbell in the

Presbyterian Theological College at Montreal,--and other like gifts. Nor

were the attractions of the land of the Pharaohs less keenly

appreciated. It had its ancient memories, both sacred and profane, alike

interesting to the intelligent explorer. There were the works of

Pharaohs of older centuries than Moses or Joseph; the walls of

Abu-Simbul, graven by the son of Theokles with their Hellenic record

centuries before the Father of History began his task; the Thebes of the

Hundred Gates, with its magnificent ruins authenticating Homer’s verse;

and Ptolemaic and Roman remains, modern by comparison. For all this the

traveller’s early training had unconsciously prepared him; and every

feature was calculated to revive the archæological tastes which found so

many votaries among the members of the “Juvenile Literary Society.” He

ascended the Nile to the Second Cataract, and gleaned some choice

antiques from the relics with which the poor fellaheen tempt the

traveller in that cradle-land of the world’s civilization. Those

included Osirian figures bearing hieroglyphic inscriptions, one

especially with the cartouch of an early Pharaoh; a brick from Thebes,

stamped with the cartouch of Thothmes III.; a porcelain stamp similarly

inscribed; and other prized memorials. Above all, he had gazed with

delight on the monuments of a long-vanished civilization, and explored

with curious interest scenes associated with the Bible stories learned

by him at his mother’s knee. His inquisitive research was constantly on

the alert, and the same thorough-going energy characterized him as a

traveller and a man of business. But along with all this, one

exceptional trait may be noted, eminently characteristic of the man. A

letter addressed to him from Cairo by Abdallah, his old Egyptian

dragoman, which reached Edinburgh soon after his death, recalled the

fact that his faithful servitor had been the annual recipient of a

kindly remittance through all the years since they voyaged together up

the Nile. Abdallah writes with a borrowed pen: “I have received your

kind letter with the five pounds, and was very happy to hear that you

are in perfect health, with your dearest family and with your friends. I

always think of you, and beg God to be with you and spare you. All my

friends are very thankful for your great kindness to me. I hope some day

some gentleman of your friends come I shall have the honour to serve

him.” For his remembrance of the faithful dragoman had been practically

shown, not only by pecuniary remittances, but also by recommending him

to other travellers, until poor Abdallah’s creditors pounced upon the

baggage of Dr. Henry Field, to whose service he had been commended, and

so his prospects as a dragoman were ruined. In writing to Major MacEnery

in May 1886, Mr. Nelson says: “I had a letter not long ago from poor old

Abdallah. It was just the old story of his being unable to do anything

in the way of earning a livelihood. He sent me a letter addressed to the

Lord _Mare_ of London, an old fellow-traveller in the Holy Land, which

I duly delivered to his lordship; but he did not take the hint and give

me something for the poor dragoman.”

 

The experiences of the traveller were occasionally turned to account in

unexpected ways in after years, when dealing with his own work-people.

One instance was recalled in an address, already referred to, delivered

at Parkside soon after his death. On the introduction of a greatly

improved sewing-machine at Hope Park much opposition was excited among

the girls, who unanimously protested in favour of the old-fashioned,

familiar instrument. Thereupon Mr. Nelson humorously told them that they

reminded him of the difficulties among the Arabs engaged in digging the

Suez Canal. They had at first scooped out the sand into baskets, which

they carried on their heads, and so transported the soil to the new

embankments. This process was much too slow for the contractors, who

accordingly provided them with shovels and wheel-barrows. But when the

latter were filled, the Arabs could not be persuaded to trundle them in

the ordinary way, but hoisted the wheel-barrows on their heads, and so

trudged along to the place of deposit!

 

The unfamiliar scenes and incidents of Eastern life, both in Egypt and

Palestine, had made a deep impression on William Nelson’s mind, and were

frequently recalled. The letter to Major MacEnery, his old

fellow-voyager on the Nile, in which he refers to his dragoman,

Abdallah, was written at a time when the first news of the troubles in

the Soudan was awakening attention at home; and, recalling his old

experiences, he remarks: “How strange it is that the Arabs in the Soudan

should be troubling our troops there at Koshi, our most advanced post

from Wady Halfi. I was under the impression that it would have been

impossible for them to have advanced in anything like a formidable body

so far north. But those wild sons of the desert can live almost upon

air, and go about like clouds of locusts; and as they are not troubled

with artillery or other impediments, they may cause us some trouble,

more especially as they are animated with fanatical zeal against the

infidels, and they do not know when they are beaten.”

 

The traveller brought back with him a duly attested document bearing the

seal of the Holy Sepulchre (a cross potence and crosslets), furnished to

Gulielmus Nelson by the prior of the Latin convent in Jerusalem, in his

quality of guardian of the Holy Sepulchre, attesting that he had in an

edifying spirit visited the sacred places around the Holy City; and had

indeed conformed to the requirements of a devout pilgrim to an extent

which, if literally true, would have been in strange antagonism to all

his early training. For the veracious prior of the Convent of St.

Salvator certifies over his official seal that the aforesaid Gulielmus

Nelson had not only visited the principal sanctuaries, but that “with

great devotion he had heard mass in them all”!

 

A more genuine reminiscence of travel, with which the pilgrim surprised

his friends, was the novel feature of a fine black beard, the imposing

effect of which probably had its share in the opinion formed by the

Syrian peasants that he was a learned leech. Commenting long after on

the reputed virtues of some much-vaunted pills, he said they were no

doubt as efficacious as those he used to make in Palestine. The

villagers flocked to his tent, importuning him and his companions for

medicine. With much gravity he distributed among them the pills he had

fashioned out of the spare breakfast loaf; and, with the faith of the

recipients in his prescriptions, supplemented as they doubtless were in

cases of actual suffering by a liberal _backshish_, he had no doubt that

he effected as many cures as some of the patent-medicine vendors. As to

the black beard, the custom in that respect has so entirely changed

since then that it is difficult for the present generatio