Day & Haghe, Lith^rs to the Queen.

LADY HESTER STANHOPE’S ARRIVAL AT PALMYRA.

London,, Henry Colburn, G^t. Marlborough S^t 1846

TRAVELS
OF
LADY HESTER STANHOPE;

FORMING THE COMPLETION

OF

HER MEMOIRS.

NARRATED BY

HER PHYSICIAN.

IN THREE VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1846.

Frederick Shoberl, Junior, Printer to His Royal Highness Prince Albert, 51, Rupert Street, Haymarket, London.

CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.

TRAVELS
OF
LADY HESTER STANHOPE.

Τὴν Ἀσίην δὴ πλεῖστον διαφέρειν φημὶ της Ευρώπῆς ἐς τὰς φύσιας τῶν ξύμπαντων, τῶν τὲ ἐκ τῆς γῆς φυομένων και τῶν ἄνθρωπων· πουλὺ γαρ καλλιόνα καὶ μεῖζόνα πάντα γίγνεται ἐν τῃ Ἀσίῃ. Ἡτὲ χώρη τῆς χώρῆς ἡμερωτέρη καὶ τὰ ἠθεα τῶν ἄνθρῶπων ἣπιωτέρα καὶ εὐεργοτέρα. [Hippocr. 72 ¶, cap. 5. Περὶ ἀερῶν, ὑδατῶν καὶ τοπῶν.]

CHAPTER I.

Damascus—Ramazán—Visit to the Jews—House of the Hayms, brothers of him of Acre—Visit to the Pasha—Compliment of Hadj Mohammed to Lady Hester—Curiosity of the women to see her Ladyship—Their dress—Inefficacy of personal restraints upon women—Fanaticism of the inhabitants of Damascus—Lepers—Amusements of Ramazán—Patients attended by the Author—Sulymán Bey—His malady—His cure—Rural fête—Sister of Ahmed Bey—Chief families in Damascus—Visits to the sick—The Merge, or place of amusement—Women at prayer.

Damascus is a city of the highest antiquity, and is repeatedly spoken of in the Holy Scriptures. In the time of the Syro-Macedonian dynasties, and of the Romans, it was the capital of Cœle-Syria. Under the Saracen Caliphs, it was the residence of the Ommiades, beginning forty years after the death of the Prophet; and it is still the second, if not the principal city of Syria, and the capital of a pashalik.

Its name, among the natives, is El Sham, and Demeshk el Sham, demeshk being the word from which we derive Damascus, the signification of which I do not know, and el Sham (to the left) being the name of the province, as Yemen (the right hand) is the name of another facing it. Ali bey, p. 265, makes its population to amount to 400,000 souls, which is probably too much by half; and we have a right to doubt his accuracy, since the shortness of his stay (only seven days) must have rendered it impossible for him to obtain accurate estimates. He reckons 20,000 Catholics, 5,000 Greek schismatics, and 1,000 Jews. Damascus has many noble mosques and fine public edifices. Of the mosques we entered none; yet a person could, as he sat in the Melon coffeehouse, look into the court of the principal one, of which Abulfeda seems to speak, p. 172, saying that it was built by Walyd, son of Abd el Malek, and was called Beny Omyah: although it has not externally any appearances of Saracen architecture. Ali bey, in his character of a Mahometan, entered it, and he describes the mosque as having “three naves of forty-four columns, each nave being four hundred feet long: and in the middle of the central nave four enormous pillars, supporting a large stone cupola.” He adds that, the mosque stands in a large court, surrounded with arcades, supported by square pillars, over which are galleries, and that in the mosque is the sepulchre of John the Baptist, whose head, as well as that of Hoseyn ebn Ali, was exposed here. In the suburbs there is a mosque of dervises remarkable for numerous cupolas. It is said to have as many as a dozen schools in it, supported by large revenues, arising from endowments and contributions. I regret not to have taken drawings of the ironwork of the windows of the ancient mosques, which, from the taste and delicacy of their forms, were well worth the trouble.

Of the khans, that which is called Khan Harûn is the most remarkable. It is built in layers of black and white stone, like a chess-board; and within are commodious magazines for the merchants.

The patriarch of the Greek Church, a prelate superior in rank, although not in power and influence to the archbishop of Constantinople, resided here. His title is patriarch of Antioch. He had under him forty-two archbishops and bishops.

Damascus owes half of its pleasantness to the fountains which abound in every part of the city, and in almost every house. These fountains are supplied by running streams, which traverse the city, and which are branches of a small river, called the Barada.[1]

Although the house assigned to Lady Hester Stanhope was a good one, she had probably determined to find it bad, in order to shift to a better quarter of the city; for it is customary, in Turkish cities, to lodge Europeans, of what rank soever they may be, among the Christians; as their habits of life and their religious observances are more easily followed there than among the Turks, who, in their own quarter, would suffer with impatience any violation of their own notions of decency or religion, which Europeans, without intending it, are constantly committing. So it is, that the Mahometans look on the Christian quarter in the most contemptuous light, never going thither but when called to it by urgent business.

Lady Hester knew all this; and was determined, by a strong measure, at once to give herself a title to consequence beyond any other European who had before visited Damascus. Accordingly, the dragoman was despatched to state how impossible it was for her to remain in the house assigned to her. It was attempted to overrule her objections, but in vain; and, towards the close of the day, the pasha gave orders that the dragoman should be conducted from house to house with permission to choose, until one was found suitable. Lady Hester instructed M. Bertrand as to what she should like, but raised objections to every one that was proposed, until one, in which a Capugi Bashi, coming on some business from the Porte, had resided, met with her approbation.

The fatigue of moving being over, the Christian whose house Lady Hester had quitted was to be satisfied, and his expectations were raised to an inconceivable pitch, grounded upon her supposed riches and greatness. Some idea may be formed from one article of his bill, which was no more than a tumbler of lemonade, “Sherbet for the queen on her arrival, 15 piasters.” His visionary prospects, however, were soon annihilated, and he was desired to content himself with a fair price for two nights spent in his house, being told that he should recollect how little claim, according to the practice of Turkish grandees, he had to any thing at all.

The house to which we were now removed was situate in the best quarter of Damascus, not far from the palace, and near the bazars. It opened through a narrow passage into an oblong marble paved court. In the middle of the court was a large basin, shaded by two very lofty lemon trees, into which two brazen serpents poured a constant supply of fresh water. At one end of the court was a saloon with a tesselated marble pavement; at the other an alcove or recess for a divàn or sofa, with a small apartment on each side. A double staircase led up to a considerable height on the outside of the left wall of the court; at one end, to two rooms, which Lady Hester occupied for sleeping and dressing-rooms, and at the other to a large saloon, which was destined to receive visitors. There were consequently but six rooms in all, yet was this considered a spacious house; for the Orientals sleep in the same room where they sit, their beds being removed in the day-time to large recesses formed in the walls for that purpose, and hidden by a curtain.

Curiosity, it may be supposed, was much excited by Lady Hester’s arrival. There are two monasteries at Damascus, one of monks of the order of St. Francis, the other of Capuchins. The society of these monks is generally sought after by Europeans; and, in the expectation of the distinguished reception they fancied they should receive, the superior of each monastery came to offer his services to her ladyship: but she would not see them. They were told that, as the quarter of the town she lived in was entirely Turkish, and as the sight of priests in this neighbourhood would be looked upon as an infringement of the rules observed by them, of seldom or never coming thither, they were requested not to repeat their visit: but she received with civility Mr. Chaboceau, a French doctor, seventy years of age, very deaf; for his privileges were more extended, as all quarters of the city are alike open to medical practitioners. This gentleman has or had a son living in England, at Uxbridge.

These measures, purposely made public among the servants, and repeated by the master of the house to his friends in the city, were construed into demonstrations of her esteem for the Turks, and contributed not a little to her popularity.

In the mean time, after resting herself a day or two, she prepared to ride out. No sooner were the horses brought to the door, than a crowd of women and children assembled; the gravity of the male part of the Turkish population seldom yielding so far to curiosity, as to allow them to join in a mob. When she came out, as she stood upon the horse-block, (of which there generally is one at the entrance of most houses) a smile on the people around served at once to prepossess them in her favour. She was accompanied by no one, but her young interpreter, Giorgio, and Mohammed, her Janissary, thus throwing herself entirely on the discretion of the inhabitants. Her first excursion naturally gave us some uneasiness; but it was without foundation. A grave, yet pleasing look, an unembarrassed, yet commanding, demeanour met the ideas of the Turks, whose manners are of this cast. We were, however, somewhat diverted by the different reports which were spread respecting her among them. It was generally supposed, from her fair complexion, that she painted white: and it was confidently affirmed, as her appearance was so little European, that, although by birth an Englishwoman, she was of Ottoman descent, and had Mahometan blood in her veins.

The Turkish feast of Ramazán was now celebrating, during which Mahometans are accustomed to fast from sunrise to sunset for the space of a whole moon. Little business, excepting what is unavoidable, is transacted all this time. The day is beguiled as much as possible in sleep, by which the cravings of appetite and the desire for drink are considerably deadened. The first half of the night is devoted to feasting and visits.

Lady Hester was anxious to be presented to the pasha as soon as possible, and an early evening was fixed on. Previous to it, she signified to the Jews, brothers of him of Acre, her intention to visit them. They filled at the court of Damascus, as has been said, the post of seràfs, which word signifies bankers or money-changers, but embraces a more comprehensive meaning. The wealth of this family was enormous, and the house they lived in was not inferior to any one in the city: its exterior, however, was mean in appearance, and gave no idea of the magnificence within. All the houses in Damascus are built of clay, beat up with chopped straw, and made into a composition,[2] which, when dried in the sun, becomes very tenacious. Houses so built have, externally, a mean appearance; and as the Jews throughout Turkey are odious to the natives, they are compelled, from policy, to give to the quarter in which they reside a dirtiness of appearance that shall not rouse the over-sensitive jealousy of their masters. Accordingly, on entering the Jews’ quarter at Damascus, the organs of smell and sight are much incommoded, and any thing but architectural beauty or cleanliness is found in it. Haym’s street-door opened, and we went down two or three steps into a stone entry about fifteen or twenty feet square, to the left of which was a dirty alcove, with a carpet on the floor, and cushions against the wall, and opposite to it a small filthy room. A staircase led from this court to two rooms above, of the same description. Any stranger, but particularly a Turk, enters thus far, and, whether he comes for the business of a moment or for a few days, it is here the master of the house sees him, and it is here that his meals are brought to him.

Opposite to the front door was another which opened by a crooked entry into the first grand court of the house, so that nobody from the strangers’ court could see into this, even if the door was ajar. Here began to be displayed the wealth of the proprietor. The court was spacious, and in the centre was a large basin, into which water spouted and gave coolness to the surrounding apartments, which were numerous. A large one on the left was covered with a rich Persian carpet, and the cushions of the sofas, which ran round the three sides, were of Damascus satins. On the right was a smaller one, more magnificent, but on the same plan. We entered only those two in the first court.

A passage led into a second court, the pavement of which was inlaid with marble mosaic, and in the centre was a basin with a fountain. Round it were numerous apartments; and these were destined for the harým; nor should I have enjoyed the privilege of seeing them (as no men enter here) had I not accompanied her ladyship, who, as a female, was necessarily conducted to them. Nothing could equal the magnificence of these rooms, two of which, at the extremity, were peculiarly beautiful, and between them was an alcove, which is inseparable from the houses of the Levantines, and which is no other than a saloon with three sides to it, the fourth side, fronting the court, being entirely open to the air, with an arch thrown over it. All these apartments had the walls painted and gilded in arabesque, and none of the ceilings were plain, but painted in stars, in lozenges, or in some diagram or device.

Neither in the first nor the second court was there an upper story, excepting over one room, where all the splendour of which the other apartments partake is united. We ascended to it by stone stairs, from the court, on the outside, in the open air, and, as is the case with all the staircases throughout Syria, it was steep and inelegant. On entering this âléah (so an upper room is called, and so the word signifies) the eye was struck with the glitter of the walls and ceiling, resembling the descriptions of fairy palaces. Mock precious stones, mirrors, gilding, and arabesque paintings, covered it every where, and the floor was of elegant mosaic. The pipes with their amber heads; the coffee-cups, with a gold stud at the bottom, on which ambergris was stuck to perfume this beverage as it dissolved in it; the embroidered napkins to wipe the mouth with; and the brilliant colours and high flavour of the sherbets corresponded with the grandeur of the house. But how shall we reconcile to all this the dishes served up on tinned copper, and set on a table of the same metal? This anomaly will be explained in another place.

But the interview with the Pasha himself was the ceremony most talked of. I did not accompany her ladyship on this occasion, owing to a temporary indisposition. Sayd Suliman Pasha had spent his life at the court of Sultan Selim and his predecessors, and was considered as a finished gentleman Turk. It must indeed have been a formidable undertaking to a woman, when, after being led through antechambers by the light of flaring candles, which threw their gleam on the arms of numerous soldiers and attendants, who waited in still and fearful silence, she was ushered into a long saloon, through two rows of the pasha’s suite, where at the upper end sat—and he alone was sitting—on a crimson sofa, in a most starched attitude, the small but dignified man. He rose not to receive her, and by a motion of his hand signified to her to sit. M. Bertrand, the dragoman, stood by her side, and by the side of the pasha stood the Jew Rafäel. M. Bertrand trembled so much that his tongue faltered when he interpreted the pasha’s first salutations, nor was he for some time sufficiently collected to repeat with precision what was said to him. Lady Hester was not at all disconcerted. Her interpreter, Giorgio, whom she had ordered to attend her to observe if her answers were correctly translated, was prevented from entering the presence-chamber because he wore arms: it being as ill-bred to pay visits of ceremony in Turkey with arms on, as in England to wear boots on a similar occasion. After a reasonable time, Lady Hester retired, having first begged the pasha to accept of a handsome snuff-box. In return a beautiful Arabian horse was led to her door after the visit was over; and the bearers of the presents received from the respective parties money of about a quarter the value of the gifts.

On her return home from this visit, her janissary, Hadj Mohammed el Ludkány, whilst standing before her to receive her orders for the morrow, said, “Your ladyship’s reception was very grand;” and upon her replying, “Yes, but this is all vanity,” he remarked, “Oh! khanum” (or my lady), “you carry the splendour of royalty on your forehead, with the humility of a dervise at your heart.”

Lady Hester scarcely found time to write to her friends an account of her adventures; but we may extract from a letter, already published in a periodical work, a few anecdotes, as related in her own words.

Lady Hester Stanhope to Lieutenant-General Oakes.

Damascus, September 30th, 1812.

My dear General,

The only letters I have received since the shipwreck are those which you directed to the care of Colonel Misset; I was quite happy to hear from you again, and that you were well, though so very busy; indeed, I fear it would not be a compliment for me to write half I have to say, even had I time.

If I was once to begin to give you my history since I left Acre, I should fill all my paper with the honours which have been paid me. The pasha here has given me two horses, but neither fit for you; another, which was presented me by the Emir Beshýr, or Prince of the Druses, would have just done; but I found he was so vicious (a rare thing in this country), that I gave him to my janissary, who is the best rider I have seen since I left Egypt.

I must now speak to you of the Druses, that extraordinary and mysterious people who inhabit the Mount Lebanon. I hope, if I ever see you again, to be able to reach Mr. North[3] in my account of them. I will only now mention a fact, which I can state as positive, having been eyewitness to it—it is that they eat raw meat. I purchased of a Druse an immense sheep, the tail weighing eleven pounds, and desired it to be taken to a village, where I ordered the people to assemble to eat. When I arrived the sheep was alive; the moment it was killed it was skinned, and brought in raw upon a sort of dish made of matting, and in less than half an hour it was all devoured. The women eat of it as well as the men: the pieces of raw fat they swallowed were really frightful.

I understand so well feeling my ground with savage people, that I can ask questions no other person dares to put to them; but it would not be proper to repeat here those I asked even the sages, and still less their answers. Any one who asks a religious question may be murdered without either the Emir Beshýr (the Prince of the Mountain), or the Shaykh Beshýr (the governor) being able to punish the offender.

Nothing ever equalled the honours paid me by these men; the prince is a mild, amiable man,[4] but the governor has proved a Lucifer, and I am the first traveller he ever allowed to walk over his palace, which has been the scene of several massacres. The two days I spent with him I enjoyed very much; and you will be surprised at it when I tell you, that he judged it necessary to make one of his chief officers taste out of my cup before I drank, for fear of poison; but I am used to that; yet this man upon his knees before me looked more solemn than usual.

Believe me, my dear General,

Ever most sincerely yours,

H. L. S.

Captain Hope came to the coast to see after me, and gave me your kind message. He is a very worthy young man, and has been more kind to me than I could have thought it possible for a man, who was a stranger to me at Rhodes, could have been. A thousand thanks for the medicine-chest.

I have just heard that all the women belonging to the sultan have died of the plague, also his two children, and that 400 persons die a day at Constantinople. All the foreign ministers are shut up in palaces near the mouth of the Black Sea.

To his Excellency, Lieut-General Oakes, &c., &c., &c. Malta.

From the time of our arrival, the applications to me for medical advice had been beyond measure numerous. Some were no more than excuses to get into the courtyard, in the expectation of seeing Lady Hester; many were from persons labouring under chronic and incurable maladies; and some, which afforded me extensive opportunities of seeing the interior of the houses in the city, were from those who were lying ill with acute diseases, which required my visits to their bedsides. However, the janissary, who officiated as porter, had much ado to keep the mob from the doors, and preserve good-humour among them; and the pertinacity of the women to gain admittance was truly laughable. This janissary was, from a long residence in his youth at Damascus, acquainted with the names of all the principal families of the place. When, therefore, the harým of any great man (the term harým being used in the East to express collectively all the women, whether wives or concubines, and their female servants, which belong to any one grandee)—when such a harým applied, Mohammed would signify it to me, and ask if they could not be admitted, to obtain a sight of her ladyship. On one occasion, thirteen in a body thus gained an entrance, and overwhelmed me with a volubility of questions truly comic.

The dress of the Damascus women, when out of doors, consists of a long white sheet, and over the face a muslin handkerchief, through which they can see very well without a possibility of having their features distinguished by others. If men are not present, this handkerchief is often thrown up over the top of the head; and some, fairer than others, if desirous of practising a little coquetry, and of letting their features be seen, will suffer the gentlemen to come upon them as if unawares, and then in haste throw down the handkerchief.

When I became better acquainted with the language and usages of the country, I was surprised to see how ineffectual all the devices of veils, cloaks, separate apartments, keepers, duennas, &c., are for guarding those who are resolved to be under no restraint: and a gentleman of the country assured me that there were few women who had not their gallants. I half believed him; for his own gallantries were notorious, and some circumstances that had happened to myself since our arrival at Damascus had given me a partial insight into the subject.

When it is considered how very fanatic the inhabitants of Damascus were,[5] and in what great abhorrence they held infidels; that native Christians could only inhabit a particular quarter of the town; and that no one of these, at the peril of having his bones broken by the first angry Turk he met, could ride on horseback within the walls, or wear as part of his dress any coloured cloth or turban that was showy, it will be matter of surprise how completely these prejudices wore laid aside in favour of Lady Hester, and of those persons who were with her. She rode out every day; and, according to the custom of the country, coffee was poured on the road before her horse by several of the inhabitants, in order to do her honour. It was said that, in going through a bazar, all the people in it rose up as she passed—an honour never paid but to a pasha, or to the mufti; but, as I was not present, I do not assert the thing positively. On no occasion was she insulted; and, although a crowd constantly assembled at her door at the time she was expected to appear, and awaited her return home, she was always received by an applauding buzz of the populace; and the women, more especially, would call out, “Long life to her! may she live to return to her country!” with many other exclamations in use among them.

I took an early opportunity of visiting the lepers, who have an hospital in Damascus, to which they are sent from fifty miles round. They are never subjected to medical treatment, and are only housed here to rot. They live on the alms of the charitable, and send out, every summer, to a great distance, some of their body to beg. For this purpose they plant themselves near the entrances of towns and villages, and, suspending a platter or half a cocoa-nut shell to a forked stick, retire a few paces off, that they may not deter the humane from approaching by the sight of their sores or the apprehension of contagion. The idea of the contagious nature of the disease is very general throughout the East, and I was treated as a madman for having once locked my hand in that of a leper’s, to convince the bystanders that I was not of this opinion.

The rich have influence enough to evade the law which obliges lepers to be kept apart from their fellow-citizens. Mansûr, son of Syt Habûs, a Drûze princess, was generally said to be afflicted with leprosy, which the peasants of Mount Lebanon call aat, or da-el-kebýr (the great malady). His friends were very shy in saying what was the matter with him, lest the Turkish authorities should compel him to quit his house for the infirmary.

As it was Ramazán at this time, the whole city was illuminated every night, and the tops of the minarets were encircled with a row of lamps. Although, on these occasions, a Turkish city is less brilliant than the common lighting of a London street, still as, at other parts of the year, the streets are not lighted at all in the evening, these feeble illuminations during Ramazán have an enlivening effect. I went several times to the coffee-houses and shows, which form the amusement of the people during this festival. I saw a rope-dancer who was tolerably clever; but his loose trowsers (tight breeches being considered unseemly) somewhat obstructed his movements.

A coffeehouse in Turkey means no more than a bench, from three to four feet deep, running along the front of a room open to the street, and shaded by a shed or sometimes by an orange-tree or a vine, upon which bench is spread a clean mat. There the guests squat crosslegged, or seat themselves on wooden or rush-bottomed stools. Small hookas, called narkýlys, are smoked, or else the long pipe; and coffee is served out in small cups, holding about two tablespoonfuls of liquid, at the price then of one para each cup. Nothing else is sold at these places, and the thirsty person trusts to the casual passing by of a sherbet-seller, or drinks the pure element out of an earthen jug that stands ready for those who call for water. There is one coffeehouse in Damascus where there is a fountain which throws up water enough to dance a round melon on the top of the jet for a long time without its falling.

It is during the evenings of Ramazán that the reciters of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, of the story of Antar, and of other amusing tales, are to be heard. The story-teller walks backward and forward, narrating with suitable gesticulation, and in a loud voice. Sometimes he is listened to, sometimes not, according to the fancy of the hearers or the interest which the tale excites. Some of these men are very clever, and will move the passions as strongly as our best actors; which will not appear strange when it is known that, in the eloquence of common conversation, the Arabs, both of towns and of the Desert, are inferior to no people in the world.

The karacûz or Ombres Chinoises is one of the favourite shows of this people. A subject often treated by them was—the sickness of a lady; her wish to have a Frank doctor; the blunders of the Frank doctor in broken Arabic, when questioning the lady respecting the seat and nature of her malady; the jealousy of the husband; the belabouring the doctor; the quarrel of the husband and wife; &c., &c.

There are performers on violins with seven strings. Some of these from time to time accompanied their instruments with the voice, and sung plaintive airs that seemed to affect their audience even to tears.

The Ottomans in general appeared to me to be very fond of sweetmeats, and indulged their children with them as much or more than fond mothers do in England. In Ramazán, the shops which sold them were much in request. There were several kinds unknown, or at least not known to me. One sort, of which I was particularly fond, was haláwy jozy, or blanched walnuts embedded in a composition of dibs and almond meal. Damascus is famous for its preserved apricots, which are sent to all parts of the Turkish empire.

The bazars of Damascus are rows of shops covered in: they are as well furnished almost as those of Constantinople, but are particularly rich in the stuffs which are manufactured in the place. I regret that I did not note down the names and texture of these brocades, and of the silks and satins, as also of the cottons. Of the taste displayed in the colours of these latter, some idea may be formed when it is known that all the prevailing patterns for gowns among us during the last eight or ten years have been copied from them.

In the mean time, almost the whole of each day was taken up by the importunate applications of the sick, many of whom, affected with incurable diseases, would not believe that there were cases in which all art is vain. I was requested to give to the consumptive a fresh pair of lungs, to make the paralytic walk, to restore sight to the blind, and to do many other things equally easy of accomplishment. Abd el Rahmán, the proprietor of the house in which we lived, was very instrumental in carving me out work of this sort: and when I reproached him for it, he said—“What will you have me do? I cannot define to them the exact limits of your abilities; and, although I am sure you do not perform miracles, nay, although I may suppose, as you say, that you come to seek knowledge, not to pretend to impart it, still I know that the ardent imaginations of my fellow-countrymen will always make an Hippocrates of a Frank doctor, and that the sight of you will do them good, even though your medicines should not.”

Abd el Rahmán, one morning, introduced to me two black eunuchs, by the names of Mukhtar Aga and Ambár Aga, informing me that they held places of trust in the administration of the female department of the family of Ahmed Bey, son of Abdullah Pasha, ex-pasha of Damascus. I was already so far accustomed to the dignities and the titles of the country as to understand the enumeration of these to mean—I present you the deputies of a great man. I had also heard frequent mention made of the ancient house of Adam, the family name of Ahmed Bey, and that it was considered one of the oldest and richest in Syria.

After some prefatory discourse, these gentlemen told me that Sulymán Bey, the eldest son of Ahmed Bey, was given over by his physicians, and that the father, hearing of my presence in Damascus, entreated me to go and see him. I replied, that, in every house where I had been, I had found persons so little disposed to obey my directions as to make me despair of ever doing any good, and that, therefore, I declined going. Abd el Rahmán was thunderstruck on hearing me refuse to attend on such a distinguished family, and when too the heir was ill. The messengers went away, and in about half an hour returned, and said so much of the father’s grief at my refusal that I then yielded to their solicitations.

I found his son on a silk mattress, placed on the sofa, in an open alcove that looked on a marble paved court shaded by lofty orange and lemon-trees. There were three physicians present, a Turk and two Christians. Ahmed Bey received me very politely, and eagerly begged me to restore his son to health. The boy was about thirteen or fourteen—ugly, of diminutive stature, and somewhat hump-backed. He was labouring under anasarca, consequent on a long intermittent fever. After examining him, I said I saw no reason to doubt of the possibility of curing him. I was then asked how I would do it, which I declined telling: for I had no one but my servant for interpreter, and the little Italian which he knew made it impossible to explain my intentions clearly.

The bey told me that nothing had been left unattempted which the faculty of the city could think of. His son had been sewed up in a sheepskin fresh from the warm carcase. He had taken pills made of powdered pearl; he had lived six days on nothing but goats’ flesh; he had had pigeons’ skins put hot on his feet; but all had been unavailing. I merely observed that these remedies might have much merit in them, but that the practice of medicine in England was somewhat different; and, if he wished me to prescribe, my first condition was that I should not be controlled by anybody. After some other conversation, I went away.

About three hours afterwards, I was summoned again, and desired to act as I chose. Not to tire the reader, I was fortunate enough to restore the boy to perfect health, and the father signified to me that he would thank me in the Eastern way. On an appointed day, I was conducted to the vestibule of the bath, where Sulimán Bey, attended by half-a-dozen servants, awaited my coming. We undressed and entered the bath, having each a silk apron on. About an hour was consumed in the ceremonies of shaving the head, washing, depilation, &c.; after which we returned to the dressing-room, where we were enveloped in embroidered napkins, and lay down to repose. Pipes, coffee, and sherbets, were served. When it was time to dress, the bey ordered a page to invest me with the dress of honour which had been prepared for me. It consisted of an entire suit of Turkish clothes, with a pelisse, and three pieces of Damascus silks not made up. The whole might be valued at fifty pounds. After dinner I returned home, and could perceive, by the cheerfulness of my groom, who generally held my horse at the door, that he too had not been forgotten.

On the morrow, I was invited to a rural fête. I accompanied Ahmed Bey and his three sons, followed by his black and white servants, in all about twenty-five persons, on horses richly caparisoned, to a garden in the environs of the city. Beneath the shade of orange-trees, by the side of a stream that ran through the garden, carpets were spread, and a repast was served up. The bey had ordered several dishes, which, as being rare, he thought would please me. Through an opening in the trees, our seats commanded a view of the plain of Damascus, which, in the cultivated part, is one of the richest in foliage I ever saw. We sat, smoked, drank coffee and sherbet; and afterwards the pages were matched against each other to throw the giryd or javelin. The day passed away delightfully, and at sunset we returned to the city.

The bey expressed himself very grateful to me for having saved his son; and hence began an acquaintance between Lady Hester and him, which afterwards ripened into a long and durable friendship.

I cannot help mentioning an occurrence which happened in consequence of this cure. The bey, having conceived a favourable opinion of my skill, consulted me for himself and all his family. Among the rest was his sister, a young lady of sixteen, and of the most dazzling beauty. Upon that occasion, I was conducted to the harým by her brother, the bey, the women being previously warned to keep out of sight,[6] so that I saw no one but her. He desired her to unveil before me, which she did without any affectation.[7] Lady Hester soon afterwards paid a visit to the bey’s wife,[8] and was received with great ceremony.

In the same manner, she visited the lady of Hassan Pasha, of Assâd Pasha, and of several others, persons of distinction, so that she had an opportunity of seeing all who were most eminent for rank and beauty throughout the city. There was an Abyssinian slave, sixteen years of age, one of Ahmed Bey’s wife’s female attendants, whom her ladyship described as exquisitely handsome. In the harýms of all these families I too was admitted, but it was to see the sick. Wherever I was called I invariably found the patient, if too ill to rise, lying on a bed spread on the floor in the middle of the chamber, with no bedstead or curtains, but sometimes with a silk musquito net temporarily suspended. The females were always veiled on entering, generally by pinching a shawl over the face, so as to leave one eye[9] only visible; but would for a reasonable cause (as, for example, to look at their tongue) draw the veil aside. At any house where it became necessary for me to repeat my visits, these formalities were by degrees disused, and always first of all by the comeliest women. The women and men always wear a night-dress when in bed, generally consisting of a wrapping gown and a quilted jacket; for the coverlet, being wadded with cotton, and about one inch thick, does not, from its stiffness, keep in the warmth sufficiently—the sheet, moreover, is sewed to it; and therefore they wear night-clothes to prevent exposure to cold.

Mohadýn Effendy was a gentleman of the most polished manners, who had lived much at court, and who moved in the best society of Damascus. He was exceedingly polite and attentive to Lady Hester, and was one, among some others, who seemed to employ himself in trying to dive into the motives of her residence in a land so foreign in its climate, customs, and language, to her own.

There is a class of persons in Turkey unknown at present in Europe, but very common during the middle ages—I mean the captains of mercenary troops, who sell their services to the prince who can pay them best. There were, in 1812, three of them, who, living in the heart of the pashalik of Damascus, might be said to be independent of their legitimate masters, and to have a jurisdiction of their own. I was acquainted professionally with all three: their names were Ozûn Ali, Hamed Bey, and Muly Ismael. Ozûn Ali had a very fine palace in Damascus; the bey, Hamed, who was the son of a pasha, lived like a daring soldier, who devoted himself with equal ardour to Mars and Venus; but Muly Ismael, now somewhat advanced in years, was a politic chieftain, whose influence and weight had, no doubt, much sway in the province. Hamed Bey gave a horse to Lady Hester, who, in return, sent him a brace of pistols. These men were employed, on all occasions of insurrection, for levying imposts and contributions, for displacing motsellems and inferior governors; and probably occasioned as much alarm to the pashas themselves as to those against whom they were employed.

There is to the south of the city, just without the gate, a spacious meadow reserved for the amusements of the inhabitants, whither horsemen go to play at the game of giryd, idlers to sit on the turf; and where sometimes caravans assemble previous to their departure on a distant journey. On one side of the meadow are two or three caves, excavated in a sandy rock. I had, in my rides through it, observed that a large checkered sheet was often suspended before the entrance of these caves; but it was not until I saw a soldier and a female issuing from one of them, that I conjectured what kind of inhabitants they contained. Generally speaking throughout Turkey, the police is extremely severe against frail women; and here, although their meretricious blandishments were, it seemed, more publicly displayed than elsewhere, they were, nevertheless, obliged to live without the walls of the city. It is not intended to say that they could not reside within them if they chose, but they find their advantage in the privacy that these obscure dwellings afford to their visiters. Damascus was, in those days, the only place where I saw women of this class parading the streets, almost unveiled, and inveigling the passers-by: but they were compelled to confine themselves entirely to one bazar.

I was one day reading at home when a Turkish woman of the middling rank of life came to consult me. Whilst speaking with her, the hour of namàz, or prayer, was cried from the mosque; when she immediately broke off the conversation, and signified that, with my permission, she would say her prayers. She went through the show of washing as if she had had water before her, and she repeated the fathah;[10] without paying the least regard to my presence. It did not, however, happen to me to see women pray openly, excepting in this one instance, and once at Latakia on the seashore: for it is not considered seemly for females to exhibit themselves to the gaze of the public under any circumstances. Lady Hester’s slave constantly prayed before any one indoors.

CHAPTER II.

Lady Hester’s intended journey to Palmyra—Objections to it—Hanah Fakhah—Difficulties of a journey to Palmyra—Illness of Mr. B. on his road from Aleppo to Damascus—The Author goes to his assistance—Osman Aga—Masûd Aga—Village of Yabrûd—Author’s reception by Osman Aga—Carah, burgh—Character of Masûd Aga—Use of Narkýly—Aspect of the Desert—Hamlet of Hassiah—Dûrra bread—City of Hems—River Orontes—City of Hamah—Mûsa Koblán—Visit from him—Arrival of Mr. Barker and Mr. B.—Description of Hamah—Clogs—Waterwheels—Coolness and heat produced by the same means—Costume of the female peasants—Doors of houses—Air—Panoramic prospect—Manufactures—Christians of Hamah—Inundations—Messrs. B. and Barker go to Bâalbec—Description of Hems—Pyramidal sepulchre—Tomb of Khaled—Citadel—Lake of Hems—Orontes river—Cara—March of troops—Yabrûd—Springs of Ras el ayn—Mâlûla—Grottoes and Sarcophagi—Michael Rasáti—Account of M. Lascaris and of Madame Lascaris—Nebk—Dress of M. Lascaris—His character—Return of the Author to Damascus.

From the time of Lady Hester’s arrival at Damascus, her mind had been incessantly busied in the endeavour to bring to bear her intended journey to the ruins of Palmyra. To this end, she had conferred with every person whom she thought capable of giving information on the subject. The pasha’s bankers, Yusef and Rafaël, endeavoured to dissuade her from an undertaking which they considered very dangerous; but told her that, in case of resolving upon it, the pasha would furnish her with a body of troops for her safe conduct, and that he and they would not be responsible for her safety, unless she went so protected. For it was argued that, although the Arabs would do no violence to her, they would probably make her a prisoner, and demand an exorbitant ransom.

A man named Hanah Fakhah, residing at Damascus, but said to be a native Egyptian, speaking French, which he learned when the French army was in Egypt, and who had accompanied Mr. Fiott[11] to Palmyra, offered himself as capable of conducting us thither in safety, from the friendship and connection he pretended to have with the chief shaykhs of the Desert. For a long time, Lady Hester was inclined to rely on his assumed importance; but subsequent information made her decline having anything to do with him. Distracted with the various reports that were made to her, she knew not what to do. At last she caused letters to be written to the Emir of the Anizýs, Mohammed el Fadhel, desiring an interview with him.

But, in order to understand the difficulties she had to contend with, it is proper to relate in what manner they had proved almost insuperable to other English travellers. Up to this period, the road to Palmyra had been little frequented by Europeans: and, of many Englishmen who had lately been in Syria, we could hear of three only who had accomplished the journey, the rest having been deterred through fear of the Bedouin Arabs, and by the obstacles that present themselves in crossing twenty leagues of desert, exposed to the chance of perishing from hunger and thirst. Of those three who went, one was stripped and robbed, and returned to Aleppo in his shirt and drawers, after a series of sufferings that would form a romance. One performed the journey in the depth of winter, when the Arabs keep their tents, and when the rains saved him from the want of water; and both these went in the disguise of pedlars, or poor merchants. But for Lady Hester, whose intention had been divulged, and whose sex and rank continued to draw much attention to her movements, secrecy was impossible.

She, therefore, seemed inclined to adopt the plan, suggested by the pasha, of going with a formidable escort. At the same time, he gave her to understand that the Emir Mahannah, chief of the Bedouins, was in little or no subjection to the Porte, and that the inhabitants of Tadmûr (as Palmyra is called in Arabic) were completely out of the reach of the arm of justice, in case they should use any foul play against her. The troops had already received orders to hold themselves in readiness to march; the camels were hired, the presents intended for the Bedouins were bought, and the day almost fixed for departure. What Lady Hester’s reflections and plans were will be better understood from two letters which she wrote to an intimate friend about this time.

Lady Hester Stanhope to ——

Damascus, October 10th, 1812.

My dear ——,

I am here yet, not liking to stir till I see a little what turn things take. The pasha has offended all the cavalry (the Delibashes commanded by the son of the famous deposed pasha, Yousef Pasha): the infantry (the Albanians) are on the side of the present pasha, and every day a battle is expected. A report also has been in circulation that 50,000 Wahabees are within four days’ journey of this city, but I do not believe it. It takes its rise from a letter from Mecca to the pasha, saying several thousand dromedaries mounted by Wahabees have set off they know not where, but not improbably for this place, which they once before attempted to take, but were driven back, after having burnt and ransacked every village upon the road. Why this concerns me is for this reason: the strongest tribe of Bedouin Arabs, my friends, who do not like the present pasha, will probably join any party against him, and there will be a fine confusion in the desert as well as here, and the roads in every direction will be filled with Delibashes, &c., &c. These men are more dreaded in every part of Turkey than you can imagine, as they stick at nothing. But luckily for me I am well known to some of them, who have been in the habit of seeing me with their chief looking at their horses; he has visited me accompanied by them, and they have everywhere treated me with the greatest civility, even when their chief has not been with them; so I have less to fear than any one else, but yet when such disturbances take place few are safe.

Should the worst come to the worst, I shall take fifty of them, and set off to my friend, the Emir Beshýr, the Prince of the Mountain, where I shall be quite safe. He has troops at his disposal, which he can assemble at will, and nothing was ever so kind as he has been to me; therefore, hear what you may, believe me better off than any one else. The bey, who commands the Delibashes, took a great fancy to me when at Cairo, and everything he can command is at my disposal, I know; he is a simple, honest soldier, and has no intrigue about him at all, and is extremely beloved by the troops. It is a good thing that old North is safe off, for he would be in a sad fright. I am not at all, knowing my own presence of mind under all circumstances, and that I have excellent friends in this country. Even with the French I am upon terms of friendship and confidence; they command everything upon the coast; for we have nobody in this country but Mr. Barker.

I scribble in great haste, as a messenger to Acre is just going off. Be perfectly easy about me; my good luck will not forsake me, when any confusion takes place. All I can say about myself sounds like conceit; but others could tell you I am the oracle of the Arabs, and the darling of all the troops, who seem to think that I am a deity because I can ride, and because I wear arms; and the fanatics all bow before me, because the Dervises think me a wonder, and have given me a piece of Mahomet’s tomb, and I have won the heart of the pasha by a letter I wrote him from Dayr el Kamar. Hope will tell you how I got on upon the coast, and if he could make anything of the Pasha of Acre, his ministers, or the rest of them, who were all at my feet. I was even admitted into the library of the famous mosque, and fumbled over the books at pleasure—books that no Christian dare touch, or even cast his eyes upon.

Adieu, and believe me ever,

most sincerely yours,

H. L. S.

I sent you, about a fortnight ago, a large packet for England by a respectable Damascus merchant going to Malta. Pray do not put any women or fools into a fright about the state of things in this country; besides, to tell the truth is here often the greatest danger one can run.

Lady Hester Stanhope to ——

Damascus, October 12th.

My dear ——,

The Wahabees (which were the subject of my last letter) have not been heard of near this town; it is said that a small number of them have arrived at Palmyra, but that is of no consequence. Whether it was the report of their being upon the road for this place, or that the pasha was unable to settle the dispute with his troops, which induced him to send a positive order to an old figure, like Sir David,[12] to come here directly (the head of everything military in Syria), I know not; but this sensible, popular, and active old fellow appeared, and shortly after was commanded to take a strong body of troops, and go over all the pashalic of Damascus instead of the pasha. During the time he was here he expressed a great wish to make my acquaintance, and that I should visit him; “for,” said he, “I shall be very jealous of my young chief if she does not.” Knowing the state of things, the rebellious spirit of the troops, their exultation at his arrival, &c., I considered this visit as an awful thing, yet I was determined to go, as everything military seemed to have set their heart upon it.

I first was obliged to ride through a yard full of horses, then to walk through several hundred, perhaps a thousand Delibashes, and then to present myself to not less than fifty officers and grandees, the old chief in the corner, and my friend the young bey (Yousef Pasha’s son) next to him, who rose to give me his place. I remained there about an hour; the old fellow was so delighted with me that he gave me his own house upon the borders of the desert for as long a time as I chose to inhabit it; he offered me a hundred Delibashes to escort me all over Syria; he sent off an express to put, as he said, his most confidential officer under my command, that nothing I asked was to be refused. In short, nothing could equal his civility, besides, it was accompanied with a degree of heartiness which you seldom meet with in a Turk. The next day he sent me a very fine little two-year-old Arab horse to train up in my own way.

The chief of 40,000 Arabs, Mahanna el Fadel, arrived here about the same time to get 4,000 camels, and several thousand sheep released, which the pasha had seized. His sons have been my friends ever since I came here, but as the father is reckoned as harsh as he is cunning, I little thought to manage him as I have done. He, his eldest son, and about twenty-five Arabs, dined with me, and were all enchanted, and the meleki, (the queen) is in the mouth of every Arab, both in Damascus and the desert. As to the Wahabees, Mahanna assures me that, as one of his family, he shall guarantee me with his life, and whether I meet or do not meet with them it is the same thing. To see this extraordinary people is what I wish, but not in the town or environs of Damascus, to be confounded with the crowd of those they wish to injure.

B. and Mr. Barker are now upon their road from Aleppo, because they chose to take it into their heads I must go with a caravan to Palmyra. No caravan goes the road I intended to go, and if it had, as I told them, nothing should persuade me to join one. This put them into a fright, so they are coming with a wire thing, a tartavan, which Mr. Barker pronounces necessary, but which all the consuls in the universe shall never persuade me to get into. What an absurd idea, in case of danger, to be stuck upon a machine, the tartavangees running away and leaving you to the mercy of two obstinate mules! the swiftest horse one can find is the best thing, and what the Arabs often owe their lives to. My second messenger (saying more positively than the first, that whether they come or not, I would have nothing to do with a tartavan) had only left this place three days when the caravan between Homs and Damascus (composed of several hundred persons, and fifty armed men, I believe) was attacked by Arabs, and sixteen men killed. Who is right, I or the consul-general?

The pasha answers for my safety, so do all the chiefs of the Delibashes, and so do the Arabs, but they do not answer for rich, cowardly merchants, who are left to take care of themselves. By this time, Barker must be half-way from Aleppo, therefore, it is right I should think about setting off to meet them at Homs: four armed men is all I shall take, just to keep watch about the tents at night, and to have an eye upon the horses, that no stray robber may make off with them. As to great tribes, &c., I am perfectly secure with them, I know.

During my residence here, I have made a great number of very pleasant acquaintances, and have seen all the most famous harems. I believe I am the only person who can give an account of the manner in which a great Turk is received by his wives and women. A particular friend of mine, who has four wives and three mistresses, took me to see them himself. None of his wives sat down in his presence, or even came up upon the raised part of the room where we sat, except to serve his pipe and give him coffee. When he invited me to a dinner, apparently for fifteen or twenty people, I of course thought the poor women were to eat; but not at all; they only presented him with what he wanted from the hands of the slaves, and never spoke but when he asked some question. Yet this is one of the most pleasant and good-natured men I know, and with me he behaves just like anybody else, and is full as civil and attentive as another man, but in this instance he does not consider his dignity lowered.

The other day I was paying a visit to the wife of a very great effendi (who, though not the most agreeable, is perhaps the cleverest man I know here); not less than fifty women were assembled in the harem to see me; when in came the lord and master—all put on their veils, except his wife and his own women, and he made a sign and all retired. He then told me he had sent for my little dragoman, who shortly appeared. We talked some time and then he proposed dining; he had led me into a beautiful court paved with coloured marble, with fountains playing amongst the orange-trees, and in a sort of alcove we found dinner prepared, or rather supper, for it was at sunset. Everything was served in high style by black female slaves, and a black gentleman. Immense gilt candlesticks, with candles nearly six feet high, were set on the ground, with a great illumination of small elegant lamps suspended in clusters in different parts of the court; the proud man talked a great deal, and kept my little dragoman nearly four hours upon his knees, having fetched a great book to talk astronomy, upon which he asked me ten thousand questions. In short, he kept me there till nearly ten o’clock, an hour past the time which, if any one is found in the streets, they are to have their heads cut off; such is the pasha’s new decree. All the gates were shut, but all opened for me, and not a word said. The pasha cuts off a head or two nearly every day; but yet I do not think he has added much to his own security, for he is by no means liked, nor does he command half so much as my friend, the old Delibash.

What surprises me so much is the extreme civility of the Turks to a Christian; for Christians they detest much more here than in any other part of the Sultan’s dominions. A woman in man’s clothes, a woman on horseback—everything directly in opposition to their strongest prejudices, and yet never even a smile of impertinence, let me go where I will. If it was as it is in England, it would be quite impossible to get through with it all. Like Doctor Pangloss, I always try to think that everything is for the best; if I had not been shipwrecked, I should have seen nothing here; if I had been born a man instead of a woman, I could not have entered all the harems as I have done, and got acquainted with all the Turkish customs, and seen all that is to be seen of most magnificent—for a Turk’s splendour is in his harem: the rooms, the dresses, the whole air of luxury is not to be described.

Adieu, my dear ——. I have written you a long letter, because I thought my last might have put you in a fright. Had the Wahabees come here, it would have been no joke, at least for the inhabitants of this town, for they burn and destroy all before them.

When you have read this, will you enclose it to Lord Ebrington, who is so good as always to feel anxious about me, and I have not time to write to him now, and I shall have no opportunity of sending another letter for a long time, most probably. Pray remember me most kindly to Captain Hope, and tell him I prosper.

Believe me,

Ever yours, most sincerely,

H. L. Stanhope.

Things were in this position when a messenger arrived from Mr. B. to say that he had quitted Aleppo, accompanied by Mr. Barker, the English consul, and, on his road to Damascus, had been taken ill at an obscure village, but was not so bad as to be incapable of travelling. This account induced her ladyship to request me immediately to go to his assistance. I accordingly departed, October 15th, on horseback, with a mule carrying my bed and medicine-chest, and with Ibrahim, my groom, on another horse.

On the road I was going there lay a village, called Yabrûd, the Shaykh of which, Osman Aga, had sent to Damascus to obtain my advice concerning a troublesome complaint with which he had been afflicted for some years. He was the brother-in-law of one Masûd Aga, Shaykh of Carah, a considerable burgh on the skirts of the Desert. In Masûd Aga was vested whatever authority the pasha had over Palmyra. This was little indeed; since the Bedouins, by their proximity, had considerable influence over the movements and the conduct of the inhabitants. However, it was proposed to Lady Hester, that, in case of her going to Palmyra, Masûd Aga should escort her. She was therefore anxious to do an act of civility to his relation, Osman Aga; and it was agreed that I should stop at Yabrûd in my way. There happened to be at Damascus one of Masûd Aga’s people, named Yahyah, who had been sent by his master to inquire when Lady Hester proposed setting off for Palmyra. He undertook to be my guide; and we departed from Damascus on the morning of the 15th October, and at nine in the evening arrived at Yabrûd, after being on horseback thirteen hours. The road had been good the whole way, excepting where we ascended Gebel Yabrûd.

VILLAGE OF YABRÛD.

Yabrûd is a large village of great beauty, situate in a plain as you emerge from a narrow pass between two ridges of rock, and having many orchards and gardens extending as much as a mile from the village, and watered by a stream which runs from a spring called Ras-el-Ayn.[13] Several sepulchres, excavated in the neighbouring rocks, denoted the antiquity of the place. The inhabitants are Mahometans, Greeks, and Christians. There are the ruins of a church of the middle ages: and it is the residence of a Greek bishop.

Osman Aga received me in his own house; of which however I saw nothing but the room where I was lodged, on the floor of which he caused a bed to be spread, his troublesome civility not allowing my own to be used. This receiving-room for strangers is generally the nearest to the door; and as many strangers as arrive sleep in it. A dish of rice, some soup, or a chicken, is commonly served up for supper, with a cup of coffee and a pipe on arriving, and the same after supper, and this makes up the entertainment of the evening. The master of the house keeps his guests company for an hour or two, and then leaves them to themselves. But, as my visit had his own health for its object, the evening was spent chiefly in conversation with him on this topic.

Next morning I left Yabrûd, accompanied still by Yahyah and by Osman Aga, and, after a ride of five hours, reached Carah. This is a poor and slovenly village. It seems to have formerly had very extensive gardens, but which now lie entirely waste.[14] There is a monastery of Greek caloyers. The situation of Carah is high, and the temperature of the air was many degrees lower than at the place we had come from. As a proof of this, all the houses which I entered had fireplaces, which are not seen at Damascus. There was no public bath in the place, and the absence of this very necessary article of cleanliness and religion is always a proof of the meanness of a Mahometan town.

We found in Masûd Aga a laughing, plethoric, unwieldy Turk, who gave himself airs of importance which almost imposed on my simplicity. He desired me to tell Lady Hester that, if she would put herself under his guidance, he would carry her safely to Palmyra; when, as we learned afterwards from the Arabs themselves, he himself did not dare to stir out of his own village for fear of them: and it was the assurance of the insufficiency of any solid protection which he could give that induced the Jews, Yusef and Rafaël, to dissuade us from going at all.

On the 18th, I took my leave of Masûd Aga and Osman Aga, having first taken coffee and a pipe with them. I cannot help expressing the astonishment I felt at observing the continued use that Masûd Aga made of the narkýly, a pipe by which the smoke is inhaled through water in the manner of the hooka; he was never without it for a moment, and it was the employment of one man to prepare it for him.

From Yabrûd towards Carah, the face of the country had assumed a more lonely aspect than hitherto; and, on leaving Carah, I could plainly perceive that we were on the skirts of the desert, if not in it. Cultivation, and the appearance of it, had ceased altogether. To the east of us, the eye wandered over plains bounded only by the horizon. We met few people, and those we did meet were generally in parties: there was a look of suspicion given and exchanged on both sides, and the salàm alëikûm was always muttered in a hollow tone, which, from the whistling of the wind across the desert, was scarcely audible: the ample abah, the kefféya tied over the bottom of the face, leaving, like the vizor of a helmet, the eyes alone visible, the long spear borne on the shoulder, all wore an air of defence and distrust, which rendered me, in spite of myself, thoughtful and cautious. On our left was a chain of barren mountains, which seemed to shut us out from the habitable world. This chain was about four or five miles off, and I conceived it to be a branch of the Antilebanon. At one place, we saw men employed in burning kali, which grows abundantly hereabout.

About two o’clock, we arrived at Hassyah, a village enclosed by a mud wall: it contained a large caravansery and a mosque: a hundred yards from the wall, there was likewise a detached caravansery with a well; but this seemed to be totally neglected. In the middle of the village, there was a large basin, supplied with water from a spring, brought to it in earthenware pipes from without: it was nearly dry just now, and looked like a stagnant pond; so that the water we had to drink was quite foul and bad tasted.

I made use of my buyurdy, or pasha’s order, with the shaykh of Hassyah, to obtain a better supper than I thought I should get of the villagers for money: but I was deceived, for I supped on treacle and dûrra bread;—and bread from dûrra, or Indian corn, is worse than that made from oats and barley, and is not to be eaten unless immediately after it is made.

There was a small caravan going the same road with ourselves, and it was thought prudent, for greater safety, to march with it. Accordingly, we departed the next morning, the 19th October, before one o’clock, by the light of the moon, and in the evening we reached Hems.

I was conducted to the house of Mâlem Skender, a gentleman well-known in those days to most English travellers for his hospitality. Yahyah had accompanied me thus far, and I rewarded him with a present of twelve piasters and a half. Mâlem Skender sent a guard forward with me, and about nine o’clock we reached Tel Byssy, a village on an eminence, the houses of which were for the most part exactly in the shape of a sugarloaf, and built of unbaked bricks.

Soon after passing the village of El Rosten, we came to the banks of the river Orontes, called in Arabic El Aâsy, over which is a bridge, with a large caravansery adjoining. The sight of this river, which our earliest studies make so familiar to us by name, caused considerable emotions of pleasure. The river is here about ten yards broad.[15]

BRIDGE OVER THE ORONTES.

Pursuing our route, we passed Ibsarýu, a hamlet with sugarloaf houses. Between the bridge and this hamlet there was a burying-ground, where were many tombstones and one mausoleum. This cemetery was called Kubt el Habázeh. At first, the road was stony, as was generally the soil about it, but afterwards it changed to a fine blackish red mould. At twenty-seven minutes to five, we saw another burying-place called Kubt el Kaireen: we arrived about five in the evening at the gate of Hamah.

I paid my muleteer and dismissed him, and, giving Mâlem Skender’s man his present, dismissed him also. He had conducted me to the house of Mâlem Mûsa Koblan, his master’s relation, the governor’s kateb or secretary, and consequently the chief Christian of the place. I was lodged in a room, detached from the house, and in which it was necessary to make a great sweeping before it could be rendered clean enough to receive me. Some dirty mats were placed on the floor, over these a carpet somewhat broader than a bed-carpet, and a dish of rice was served up for my supper; but I saw nobody.

When the evening was somewhat advanced, Mâlem Mûsa, who pretended that he was just returned from the governor’s, came to see me. He complained of his asthma, grunted at every word he said, hoped I had supped well, and then left me, after having begged me to await Mr. Barker and Mr. B. at Hamah, since they must pass through on their way to Damascus.

In fact, the next day they arrived. Mr. B.’s indisposition had not lasted, and he felt now quite well. Mr. Barker’s establishment being equally large with Mr. B.’s, the house, from the quantity of luggage and number of servants, became a scene of great confusion. For his dragoman he had brought with him a young Frenchman, named Beaudin, residing from his fifteenth year at Aleppo, and speaking Arabic almost like a native. Mâlem Mûsa had a son, well known to Mr. Barker, named Selûm, which name he had warped from its original sound into Selim, this last being a Turkish appellation, which Christians are not generally allowed to bear. For Selim was on all occasions very desirous of assuming the garb and air of a Turk; and his situation in the employ of the governor enabled him to take many liberties of that kind. He was at present from home: but his name will be often mentioned hereafter.

Hamah is a large but straggling city on the Aâsy or Orontes, which may be here from twenty to thirty yards broad. It is built in a bottom between two hills. There is a conical mound, evidently the work of human hands, upon which once stood a citadel, although now one stone is not left on another. Nor could this elevation, since the invention of cannon, have served for defence, as its highest part is only on a level with the downs which surround the city. The streets are filthy and stinking both in winter and summer; and, as they are not paved, the winter rains render them almost impassable; so that here I beheld, what I believe is not seen in any other country, men of all ranks walking from house to house in clogs, such as brewers’ men wear in England, but much higher.

At the corner of a private house I observed a stone let into the wall, with figures and hieroglyphics upon it; but my interpreter had given me to understand that much curiosity would be excited if I were seen drawing it, with some danger to my person, and I therefore merely mention its existence there to invite other travellers to examine it, now that the Syrians are become more civilized than formerly.

The wheels used for raising water from the bed of the river, are among the greatest curiosities in Hamah. They are of that kind called Persian wheels, and are of a bold, although rude, construction. One is said to be sixty feet in diameter. An adventurous fellow was accustomed to make the circuit of this wheel, holding by the extremity of one of the spokes, and to undergo the dip through the water. The 41st question of Michaelis relates to the word

, which I believe to mean water-wheels, such as here described. To the circumference are fastened leathern buckets or earthenware pots, which fill from below, and, as the wheel goes round, empty themselves at the highest point into aqueducts raised on arcades. By these the water is carried inland, and the grounds are irrigated, for all the purposes of gardening and husbandry.

The houses of the poor are of mud and unbaked bricks: those of the rich are of stone, and, for the most part, built in the form of vaulted chambers. Many of these rooms have no windows, the light being admitted by the door only, which it is scarcely necessary to keep shut in the coldest season of the year: whilst, by these means, a degree of coolness is preserved in the summer heats not attainable in any other manner. There is one trifling inconvenience which arises from this mode of excluding the light. In the middle of the day, when the glare of the sun is almost intolerable, on entering these rooms, one seems for a moment in total darkness. I cannot but suppose that this sudden abstraction of light must in some degree enfeeble the organs of vision. Hamah, indeed, like Damascus, abounds in one-eyed and blind people.

The dress of the poor female inhabitants may be said to consist of four pieces; the veil, the gown, the shift, and the apron. The veil is green, the gown blue, and the apron red. This costume, on a pretty woman, looks well. The veil is drawn so as to form an oval outline on the face, falling over the shoulders down to the middle.

As Hamah lies on the high road from Aleppo to Damascus, and is constantly exposed to the passage of troops, among whom, in addition to a very relaxed discipline, obtains the custom of quartering themselves at will in the towns through which they march, the inhabitants have been taught by experience that even their saloons might on such occasions be converted into stables. Hence a usage which is very general here, and more especially in the Christian houses, of making the street doorway no more than from three to four feet high, so that a horse or mule cannot enter. Indeed, it requires much stooping for even a man to do so: and when, on my arrival at Hamah, I was led, through a filthy lane, down a blind alley to the door of Mâlem Mûsa’s house, I could not persuade myself that I was entering a respectable habitation.

From the low situation of the city, the air is bad, and autumnal diseases are here often very fatal, always very common; but the climate is mild beyond measure in the winter. Seen from the neighbouring hills, Hamah presents one of the most beautiful prospects I ever beheld, arising from the joint effect of the windings of the river through the straggling streets, the noble arcades, the great wheels, and the rich foliage of its orchards.

The chief manufacture of the place is that of sheepskin pelisses, which are worn by the Bedouin Arabs and by the people of the villages on the skirts of the Desert. Printed muslin handkerchiefs, felt for saddle-covers, silk napkins for covering the waist in the bath, and silk handkerchiefs, are likewise made here. The town is famous also for towels and napkins, in appearance like huckaback.

There are about fifty families of the Greek church, who, with the Syrians, comprehend all the Christians. These, generally speaking, are subjected to more humiliations here than on the coast; for they are always in awe of a licentious soldiery, and are never permitted to wear any other coloured clothes than blue, black, or what we call quakers’ colours. The Greeks have a bishop, or despotes.

The river is liable to great inundations in the winter season, which sometimes rise as high as the top of the parapet of the bridge which joins the streets and suburbs on the right and left bank. It produces fine fish. The valley in which the river runs is not wide; and, where it is bounded on the left side by almost perpendicular ascents to the downs overlooking the town, the poorer inhabitants have made themselves caves, in which, to appearance at least, fifty families had taken up their abode. Hamah would make a most beautiful panorama.

Mr B. was desirous of visiting the ruins of Bâlbec, and therefore he and Mr. Barker departed on the following morning. I accompanied them only as far as Hems, where they left me to return to Damascus by the way I came. This I was obliged to do, as I had to seek out a European gentleman, who was said to be living in obscurity at a village close by Yabrûd, and concerning whom Lady Hester was curious to learn some particulars. Mâlem Skender received us in his house, and the next morning my companions set off for Bâlbec. The weather had been much colder at Hamah than at Damascus, for I found myself obliged to buy a lamb-skin pelisse, which proved of great comfort to me; and on this day it rained, being the first wet we had had since the month of May.

Hems is the ancient Emesa. It is a neat, compact town,[16] with streets paved, and wider than is customary in Turkey. It contains fourteen or fifteen mosques, and is about a mile and a half in circumference. It is said to contain 15,000 souls, about 300 of whom are Christians. Just outside the town there is a ruinous piece of ancient masonry, square at the base, which is surmounted by a pyramid. It has probably served for a mausoleum. The pyramid was supported by pilasters, and the frieze shows the remains of the festoons which once ornamented it. On one side is an inscription, which was too high to be read by me. This mausoleum contained two chambers, one over the other, with small windows. It is built of brick, and faced with gray stones, lozenge-shaped.

Without the walls, also, is the tomb of Khaled Sayf Allah, one of Mahomet’s first disciples, his relation, and the conqueror of Syria. In riding out on the 26th, I was tempted to try the experiment of passing for a Turk; and, dismounting from my horse at the door of the mosque, I walked boldly in, and requested to see Khaled’s tomb, which is an object of great veneration to those who perform pilgrimages to the shrine. My bad Arabic went for nothing; for the doorkeeper had only to suppose me to be an Albanian, or some native of the European provinces of Turkey. I saw the tomb, which, similar to other Mahometan tombs of ancient date, was shaped like the roof of a house. He gave me some holy water to drink, and threw over me a veil, or scarf, during which ceremony he pronounced a long prayer, whilst I felt somewhat alarmed at the risk I ran in assuming a feigned character. In going out, the unusual present which I gave him of two piasters and a half was enough to betray me; for a devout Mussulman probably never exceeded twenty paras, or half a piaster.

I visited the citadel of the town, which seemed to have been the work of the Saracens, or crusaders, but was now altogether in ruins. It stood on a truncated mound, the sides of which were faced with neat gray stone from top to bottom. Round it was a ditch from twenty to thirty yards broad, with a counterscarp faced also in stone. On the table of the eminence there appeared the remains of a series of vaults that had gone round the circumference of the citadel, and communicated with each other by small doors. There had been towers at equal distances. Fragments of granite and stone pillars were lying about, and in one place some of these were let into the walls.

On approaching Hems, when coming from Damascus, the rising sun was reflected strongly on a lake, to the left of the road, formed by the waters of the Orontes, not far from where it takes its rise. As I proposed remaining a day or two at Hems, I resolved to visit it, and for the value of eighteen pence a guide conducted me thither.

After passing through Katâny, a miserable village, not unlike a nest of hogsties in England, and about half a mile from the lake, I soon reached the margin of the water, and beheld before me an expanse, apparently about three miles across in its broadest part, but in most places less, and about twelve long, or perhaps much more; for a sheet of water is liable to deceive the eye greatly.[17] It narrows at the Eastern extremity, where I was, and is banked in by a dyke about a quarter of a mile long,[18] appearing not of very ancient construction, although Abulfeda attributes it to Alexander the Great. I walked on the dyke, and the first outlet for the waters that presented itself was a small stream that I had crossed in my way: then came the mouth of the aqueduct for supplying Hems. This aqueduct is of rough workmanship, and it seems to have been constructed in the place of one now dilapidated, but of equally indifferent construction. But, from the sight of this aqueduct and the elevation of the embankment, it may be concluded that the object, or the principal object, of it was to raise water to a sufficient height to enable it to flow to Hems.

At the northern extremity of the dyke stands a ruined tower, and, between it and the aqueduct, about half way, the lake runs over, and falls down in cascades to form the river Orontes. A meadow beneath the dyke, and much below the level of the lake, shows where once the waters ran unchecked: a small mulberry plantation now occupies its place. Wild fig trees grew out of fissures of the dyke. Close to the tower a small aqueduct commences, by which a village two hundred yards off is supplied with water. Under the dyke, and at the foot of the tel or mount, are many loose stones, but none of them seemed to be of a Grecian or Roman character: nor were there any fragments of pillars or of buildings of ancient date.

I returned to Hems much pleased with my excursion, having first followed the course of the Orontes for some distance, until I came to a very large Persian waterwheel, and a mill; both put in motion by the stream, which was nearly dammed across to give it a greater impetus. This place was called El Memas, and here are the gardens of Hems, which, for want of water for irrigation, cannot thrive close to the town. But this, although a privation, contributes greatly to the salubrity of the place, the air of which is much superior to that of Hamah.

Having seen everything worthy of curiosity at Hems, I left it on the 28th of October, accompanied by the same man as guide who had before conducted me from Hems to Hamah.

Here I staid the whole of the 30th, in consequence of the marching of some troops. The inhabitants were apprised of the coming of these troops, who were a corps of Deláti, mercenaries in the pay of Hamed Bey: and, from the conversation of the villagers, I could easily perceive that their passage was exceedingly dreaded. I therefore requested Masûd Aga to grant me a soldier, to remain at my door and protect me from insult. He candidly told me that his soldiers could do nothing at such a moment, when even his own house would be scarcely exempt from intrusion. I therefore resolved to depend on my own scheming. I dressed myself in my smartest clothes, with a cashmere shawl round my head and one round my waist, girded on my sabre with its silver scabbard, and, seating myself in the corner of the cottage, on my travelling carpet, I assumed an air of importance as great as I could put on. My host, I had observed, had removed out of the way every thing that could serve as fuel or food, and then went out, leaving the soldiers to expend their fury on the bare walls; “for, if they get hold of me,” he said, “it will be in vain to declare that I have nothing to give them: they will beat me until I produce my all.”

About ten o’clock, I heard the noise of horses and the clamour of many voices. Presently a soldier alighted at my door, and said—“Holloa, rascal; come here and take my horse:” then, thrusting his head in, and seeing me seated, he begged my pardon and moved on to the next cottage. Another came; I kept my seat, and telling him “This is my house, friend,” he too went away. A third and a fourth presented themselves, and fortunately no one, in the hurry of the moment, discovered me to be a Frank. My groom Ibrahim was of great service, who, leaning negligently against the outer door, told every one not to enter or shout so, as there was an Aga within.

The troops merely baited at Carah, and then went for Hassiah: and the rest of the day was employed by the cottagers in replacing their furniture, and lamenting the hardships to which they were subjected from such a lawless soldiery.

On the 31st I went from Carah to Yabrûd, where I took up my lodging at an old Christian’s house. The man was a farrier, and, being ill, had entreated Osman Aga, if I passed through again, to billet me upon him: so that I had an importunate patient, labouring under asthma, close at my elbow.

I amused myself, on Sunday, Nov. 2nd, in a ride towards the springs that supply the brook by which the gardens of Yabrûd are irrigated. At twenty minutes’ distance from the gate of the town, there are two of them, both gushing from the foot of a rock: and, just before reaching them, there is a sarcophagus, hewn out of a mass of rock, and covered by a huge lid, having had on it two circular reliefs sculptured, but now indistinct. The valley is highly cultivated,[19] and terminates, beyond the farthest spring, by a small meadow, where the two chains of mountains approach to within a hundred yards of each other.

My landlord, the farrier, having said much about the curious excavations in the rocks at a village called Mâlûla, I induced him, the next day but one, which was the 4th, to accompany me thither. On reaching the place, my conductor took me to a small monastery, built on the brow of the precipice, which overhangs the bogáz or ravine in which the village stands. On the rock where we were, and in those rocks which to the right and left were still overtopping us, are numerous grottoes cut out of the solid stone. In the ravine beneath is the village: and, beyond it, we looked over the Desert as far as the eye could reach. I was eager to enter some of these grottoes, and did then for the first time believe in the stories of the troglodytes: for many of them had evidently been inhabited; and some of them showed for what purposes they had been used, as for wine-pressing, baking, sleeping, &c. Yet a little reflection told me that they originally must have been intended for sepulchres only: inasmuch as many of them contained sarcophagi, like similar caverns that I had seen elsewhere: and in those that had them not, it was not difficult to imagine that they had been disfigured and enlarged for the purposes of pressing oil and wine, or had been converted into magazines after they had ceased to serve as sepulchres.

We were very civilly received at the convent by Mâlem Michael Rasáti, a native of Damascus, sent hither to collect money for Mâlem Rafaël the Jew, to whom the village belonged: i. e. who, for a certain sum, farmed it from the pasha, to make of it as much as he could by his exactions. Persons, so sent, live on the people of the village until they have completed the collection of the imposts. He had with him his wife and sister, who, as being in a retired Christian village, enjoyed themselves with nearly as much liberty in their walks and amusements as ladies in England would do. Soon after my arrival we dined,[20] drank our coffee, and smoked our pipes: and, whilst Mâlem Rasáti took his afternoon nap, I revisited the excavations. In several there were remains of mouldings and other ornaments in bas-relief, and some appeared to have been stuccoed. About four o’clock we all walked down into the village. A spring from the hills above, carried by a grooved ledge down the ravine, supplied the inhabitants with water. A large shady tree or two afforded them shelter from the rays of the meridian sun, which, when declined from the perpendicular, are shut out by the high precipices on either side. Upon the whole, I would recommend the traveller in Syria to turn from his road to visit Mâlûla. The summag or sumak tree, the leaves of which are used in dyeing, is much cultivated on this spot, and some of the sepulchres were converted into store-rooms for holding them.

Mâlem Rasáti urged me strongly to remain all night, in which my landlord, who found his raki, or brandy, good, joined him: so that, when nothing I could say would persuade them to let me go, I stole out unperceived, bridled my horse, and rode off alone, although not sure of the way. I had not, however, got a mile when my landlord came galloping after me; and could not refrain, when he had overtaken me, from muttering a great deal about the obstinacy of Franks, and of the folly of riding after it was dark. We reached Yabrûd in safety.

Within a few miles of Yabrûd is Nebk, a small village, where resided a person whom Lady Hester wished me to seek out. His name was Lascaris, and his history is singular. He considered himself a descendant of Lascaris, emperor of Trebizond: but, not to go so far back, his uncle was Grand Master of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem at Malta, and of the Piedmontese family of Lascaris de Ventimiglia. He himself was a knight, and one of those, who, after the capitulation of the Island of Malta, followed General Buonaparte into Egypt. He then held a post of considerable emolument as receiver of imposts; and, being an ardent favourer of universal fraternization, he married a Georgian slave, who had belonged to the harým of a kashef of Murad Bey. She was stolen from Georgia at the age of fifteen, and pretended that she never had changed her religion.

The history of her bondage, as related to me by herself, may, if true, serve to give an idea how slaves are carried off from the countries which supply the market of Turkey. She was walking from the village of Warran, her native place, to an adjoining town, when, in an unfrequented part of the road, five men sprang out from an ambush and seized her. They stuffed her mouth with a pocket handkerchief, and carried her to a retired cottage in the mountains near at hand. A master of a merchant vessel awaited them, to take off whatever prey they might make; and, her price being settled, she was conveyed to the sea-side, and embarked. Until they reached the sea, they always travelled by night, and by day remained concealed in unfrequented places, at which time they tied her by the leg, but otherwise treated her well. She was transported to Constantinople, but, the market being dull, was re-embarked for Grand Cairo. Mohammed Kashef bought her; and his harým being dispersed after the defeats of the Mamelukes by the French, she fell into the hands of the Chevalier Lascaris, who married her. She was a large masculine woman: she seemed to have been handsome, but her beauty was now gone; for, in these climates, women at thirty are in their wane.

On the evacuation of Egypt, M. Lascaris took his wife to Paris; but her manners and education were so little adapted to the society of the French capital, that, after an exhibition of her shawls, her Turkish dress, and the few novelties she had to show, the lady found herself out of her sphere, and, we may suppose, worried her husband to return to a country where she could meet with people like herself. The aunt of M. Lascaris was dame d’atour to the Empress Josephine;[21] and, for this or some other reason, he aspired to a post of importance, which not being able to obtain (for it is said he rejected with disdain that of sous-prefet of a department), his own dudgeon, joined with his wife’s, induced him to depart for Constantinople. They there planned a journey into Georgia, to her native place, where M. Lascaris, who was extremely visionary, proposed civilizing the inhabitants and introducing a new system of agriculture. An Armenian, who found out that the projector had a good deal of money at his disposal, undertook to conduct his affairs, to provide articles of barter, implements of agriculture, &c. They embarked together on the Black Sea, landed in the Crimea, and were proceeding on their way to Georgia, when they were arrested as French spies, by the Russians; and, the Armenian having plundered and deserted them, M. Lascaris and his wife were conveyed as prisoners to Petersburg, with the loss of the greatest part of their fortune. Their innocence being proved, they were set at liberty. I forget what next became of them, but gradually M. Lascaris frittered away all that he possessed, and, in 1811, became a school and music-master at Aleppo. I recollect, however, that one of his intermediate schemes was a copartnership with the shaykh of a village near Latakia, where he proposed to raise double crops from the soil by the use of European agricultural instruments, &c. He had not been long there when some unguarded expressions on politics caused his intentions to be suspected; and, had he not retired in haste to Latakia, he would probably have been the victim of the suspicions of the natives. At the time when, as will be presently related, I found him at Nebk, he had just come from Aleppo with a bale or two of red cotton stuffs, which he hoped to sell to the women of the neighbouring villages for petticoats and aprons, at a great profit, and thus make his fortune.

On the 3rd of November, according to my instructions, I rode over to the village of Nebk. On entering it, I inquired for the house of the bishop, to which I had been directed. As I went up the street, a girl about twelve years old, looking out at a door, stared very hard at me. I repeated the question as to the bishop’s residence, when she immediately begged me to stop, and called her master. It was the servant girl of M. Lascaris himself, who, on her calling him, came to the door in a peasant’s dress. He wore a striped black and white woollen abah, in shape like the coats of Robin Hood’s days: beneath it a pair of loose, blue cotton Turkish brogues, no stockings, and peasants’ red shoes. His beard was long and very handsome, his turban like that of the peasantry.

I made myself known to him, dismounted, and was introduced to his wife, who, with her own hand, set about preparing some coffee. They occupied a small cottage, with a yellow clay floor, polished until it shone like a looking-glass: and everything in the room was arranged with great neatness.

I spent two most agreeable days with them. M. Lascaris was a man whose conversation was always particularly pleasing, and, as far as regarded the fine arts, very instructive: for he had seen and read a great deal. The consciousness of his own superior merit was perhaps the cause of all his misfortunes, in having made him lay claim to higher offices in the state than he could obtain: and hence, assuming the tone of an injured man, he had irretrievably embroiled himself with the Emperor Napoleon.[22]

At the close of the second day, I received a letter to hasten my return to Damascus, Mr. Barker having arrived there very ill. On the 5th of November, I quitted Nebk for Yabrûd, where I left some medicines and a small recompense with my host, the farrier; and, on the 6th, I departed for Damascus. I slept on the road at Marra, and arrived at Damascus on the 7th, after an absence of twenty-five days.

CHAPTER III.

Precautions against riots—Emir Nasar visits Lady Hester—He dissuades her from going to Palmyra with an escort—Description of Nasar—How entertained—Lady Hester quits Damascus—Reports of her wealth—She takes Monsieur and Madame Lascaris with her—Her interview with the Emir Mahannah—She arrives at Hamah—Departure of Mr. B. and Mr. Barker from Damascus—The Messieurs Bertrand dismissed—Bills of exchange—The Author sets out for Hamah—Mode of travelling—A Caravansery—Gabriel, the poet—Kosair—Kelyfy—Nebk—Turkish adventurer—Khan of Nebk—Mode of washing in the East—Carah—Hassiah—Hamah—The Author lodges with Monsieur and Madame Lascaris—Opportunity for entering the Desert—M. Lascaris resolves to accompany the Author—Bedouin costume—First departure from Hamah.

Mr. Barker had been seized with a bilious remittent fever:—the danger was over, but he was very weak and exhausted. He and Mr. B. were lodged in the Christian quarter, in the house which Lady Hester had rejected. As I was necessarily obliged to go frequently from one house to the other, and sometimes late at night, I had occasion to observe the precautions taken in Turkish cities after sunset to prevent nocturnal disturbances. The end of every street has a gate, which is shut at the prayer (called namàz el ashy) two hours after sunset, and a patrol is in attendance at each. To pass these gates, I was obliged sometimes to knock and wait from five to fifteen minutes; when a lazy soldier of the police, rising from his mustaby[23] and putting down his pipe with the utmost slowness and indifference, would let me through, taking care to question me whence I came and whither I was going, and to arrest me if without a lantern. To a medical man, no other impediment is given; but to persons without ostensible business—to an artisan or mechanic—the passage from street to street at an advanced hour in the night would be difficult. After ten o’clock, I seldom have seen a living creature out of doors, excepting dogs, whose night haunts are not disturbed with impunity, as they follow the intruder snarling and barking from one extremity of the street to the other.

Towards the middle of October, Lady Hester had in part made the necessary arrangements for her journey to Palmyra; but, during my absence, Nasar, the son of Mahamah, emir of the Anizys[24], had, in consequence of the letter sent to his father, been to see her ladyship.

When he was introduced to her presence, he said that “he had heard of her intention of going, under the protection of a body of troops, to Tadmûr; and that he came from his father to warn her against such a step; for, if she attempted to force her way thither, he considered himself at liberty to treat her and her escort as he did all those who presumed to cross the desert without his permission—namely, as enemies.” He declared to her that “if so distinguished a person as she was would place herself under the protection of the Bedouins, and rely upon their honour, they would pledge themselves for conducting her in safety thither and back; but that, if she chose any other way, she would learn to her cost who was sultan in those wilds.” He added—“soldiers of the cities know not the tracks and landmarks of the desert;—where the wells are—what parts are infested with hostile tribes—who is friendly and who is not; and, when they have led you into difficulties, they will be the first to desert you.”

Many other reasons he no doubt gave, which, joined to his natural eloquence, could not fail to convince. For he was a young man of very fine talents, as we had afterwards many opportunities of observing; and, when bidding Lady Hester to repose confidence in him and his father, he knew how to inspire it. He was now about twenty-five years of age, plain in his person, but dignified, eloquent, and of the most engaging manners. A description of his dress will not much bespeak the admiration of a European reader. He was clad in a sheepskin pelisse, much in the shape of a sailor’s long sea-jacket; under this he wore a ragged satin robe that reached to his ancles, with a sort of green and orange silk handkerchief thrown over his head, and tied with a cord for a fillet. He was without stockings. His attendants were in a worse plight than himself, and stood around him.

Nasar was entertained by her ladyship with an appropriate repast prepared for him and his people, in which there was a mixture of Turkish and English cookery under the direction of Pierre, now become a man of great use in Lady Hester’s establishment. The plum-puddings excited much laughter and astonishment among them;—but they could not be induced to eat of them.

Lady Hester presented him with a complete suit of clothes, which he immediately distributed among his people, telling her that a Bedouin prince was the father of his subjects, and that what he got was for his children.

The result of Nasar’s visit was that her ladyship declined the offer of troops from the pasha to protect her, dismissed all those whom she had partly engaged for the journey, and, availing herself of Mr. Barker’s illness, on whom I remained to attend, and with whom civility required Mr. B.’s stay, she departed alone, as she said, for Hamah, on the 15th of November.

The following letter, written by Lady Hester herself the day before her departure, explains her own feelings at this time:—

Lady Hester Stanhope to ——.

Damascus, November 14, 1812.

My dear ——,

B. and Mr. Barker arrived here about the first; the latter has been laid up with a fever ever since, and I have given up my journey to the desert for the present, as the Pasha insists upon sending 800 or 1,000 men with me, and the expense would be ruin; but I am going off to Homs to-morrow, and in the course of the winter shall contrive to go in some way or other.

It seems very cross to be angry at people being anxious about you; but had B. and Mr. B. made less fuss about my safety, and let me have had perfectly my own way, I should have been returned by this time from Palmyra. Yet I cannot but regret it; (for I had leave to dig and do every thing I pleased at Palmyra): chance having put such extraordinary power in my hands, it has been lost by mismanagement. It is not here as in other parts of the world; if you only go a mile to the right instead of the left, which you have not previously bargained to do, your camels leave you, your guards won’t stir out of their district, you must pay them four times their price to induce them to go on, &c. Therefore, it was very fine and very natural to write, every three days from Aleppo, “we will meet here, then there,” and to make fifty changes, and to express fifty fears:—from people who did not know the country it might be expected, but those who did ought to have been aware it would have been taken advantage of, which has been the case.

We have no plague here at present, but I suppose it will come when goods arrive from Constantinople. I, for one, have little apprehensions of the plague; all in this world rests with Providence, and over-caution ever exposes persons more to danger than remaining quiet.

I have just sent to Sayda for the things Captain Hope forwarded me from Smyrna; I trust I shall find all my packets of letters with them. I have sought in vain for some good thing to send you from hence, but can find nothing; but I have ordered some wild-boar hams to be made, which you will receive in the course of the winter. I should feel so ungrateful were I not to think of you constantly, even in little matters. B. ordered some of the famous Vino d’Oro, of Mount Lebanon; when the casks are well seasoned, and an opportunity offers, it shall be sent to Malta. B. desires to be most kindly remembered to you; he hates this place, as I thought he would, but must remain here till Mr. Barker is well enough to set off. Aleppo he also thought abominable. I knew I should dislike Aleppo if I went there, because it is full of vulgar people: but here there are chiefly great Turks, and, as I get on very well with them, I rather like the place than otherwise, but think it very unwholesome from the quantity of water and trees in and about the town; however, it is very beautiful in its way, but it is not the way I like. Brusa and the banks of the Bosphorus for me!—enchanting scenes which I think upon with delight. But I must not write on for ever, I forget all the business you have upon your hands: may your health not suffer from it is all I pray.

Yours ever, most sincerely,

H. L. S.

I scribble sadly, but my ink is so bad, and I have no table; the Turks always write upon their hand, and so slow—it is quite amusing!

Previous to her going, I gave her an account of my visit to M. and Madame Lascaris, and excited in her a great desire to see them. In the mean time the report had spread in the Desert that an English princess, who rode on a mare worth forty purses, with housings and stirrups of gold, and for whom the treasurer of the English sultan told out every day 1000 sequins, was about to pay a visit to Tadmûr; that she had in her possession a book which instructed her where treasures were to be found (this book was the plates of Wood and Dawkins); and that she had a small bag of leaves of a certain herb which could transmute antique stones into gold.

Lady Hester did certainly take the road to Hamah, but, unknown to us all, she had arranged a meeting with Nasar’s father, and was determined to enter the Desert alone, and thus give the Emir Mahannah a proof of her reliance on his honour. So, as she told us afterwards, going as far as Nebk, she there induced M. Lascaris and his wife immediately to dispose of their goods and whatever incumbrances they had, and to accompany her in the capacity of interpreters. She then turned off from the high road, at Tel Bysy, a hamlet near Hems, plunged into the Desert, under the guidance of a single Bedouin sent for that purpose, and trusted herself, a solitary and unprotected woman, to hordes of robbers, whose livelihood is the plunder they make, and whose exploits are numbered by the travellers they have despoiled. Arrived at Mahannah’s tent, her courage and demeanour struck that prince with astonishment. “I know you are a robber,” she said, on their first interview, “and that I am now in your power; but I fear you not; and I have left all those behind who were offered to me as a safeguard, and all my countrymen who could be considered as my protectors, to show you that it is you and your people whom I have chosen as such.” Mutually pleased with each other, after a short interview Mahannah escorted her ladyship to within a few miles of Hamah, and, commissioning his son to conduct her safe to the residence prepared for her in that city, they then parted.

In the mean time, Mr. B. and Mr. Barker, who had recovered from his indisposition, about the 24th of November, followed Lady Hester to Hamah. I remained behind, anxious to receive some boxes and packets of letters said to be arrived at Acre from England, and for which I had despatched an express messenger to that place. I hired a small house belonging to Mâlem Hanah Takhal, and divided my time between Ahmed Bey, M. Chaboceau and the Greek archbishop, taking the opportunity of visiting whatever I had neglected to see before in this beautiful city.

On the departure of Lady Hester from Damascus, the two Messieurs Bertrand were dismissed. As one of them had to return to Sayda, he rode a horse of Lady Hester’s, which was sent back by the messenger, who brought with him the boxes and letters that were expected. Having now nothing to detain me at Damascus, I took leave of my friends there as of persons I might never see again.

I had received from Hamah a bill of exchange on Ibrahim Aga, a creditable Damascus merchant, dealer in red caps, for one thousand piasters, in order to make some purchases; but the extreme caution of the old man, and the time he took to collect the money, delayed me yet longer: for the Mahometan merchants are not used to negotiate bills as persons do in England, and trade is generally carried on by barter or by hard cash.

I made a contract with one Hossayn Shakády to carry all my luggage to Hamah, for forty ikliks, or one hundred piasters. On the 7th of December I left the city of Damascus. I was now equipped in a very different manner from what I had been when I entered it. I had altered my dress entirely, and had assumed that of the Syrian Mahometans, one principal feature of which is the abah, or long cloak, made of woollen stuff, which hangs, without sleeves, from the shoulders. Instead of my bed, I provided myself with a small carpet of the size of a hearth-rug, on which I proposed to sleep without undressing. I discharged my servant Yusef, a hypocritical fellow, who, from having lived as cook in the Franciscan convent of Damascus, was as demure, and at the same time as great a cheat, as such an education could possibly make him.[25]

I departed in company with a caravan of about sixty mules and camels, most of them destined for Aleppo. I was furnished with a buyurdy, or government order, for my supply on my journey with food and provender for myself, horses, and servant. I was now therefore no longer an English traveller, but, both in garb and usages, endeavoured to conform to the customs of the natives; and, whilst in the East, I never afterwards quitted them. I will therefore describe this method of travelling, that the reader may understand how wide the difference is between Turkey and his own country.

My equipment consisted of the clothes on my back; a halter and a corn-bag for my horse, tied behind my groom; a pair of common woollen saddle-bags under me; my sabre by my side, and my pipe carried by my servant. The mode of journeying was this: we mounted at sunrise, and, proceeding always at a footpace, halted somewhere at noon, and generally, if possible, near a spring. There the horses drank, and a little chopped straw was put into their bags: often for myself bread and dried figs were all that was served for a breakfast; and a little dried dung (for in this part of the country there is not a bit of wood), scraped together, made fire enough to boil a cup of coffee. Remounted, we generally contrived to arrive before or soon after sunset at a caravansery; and for the last half hour there would be some contention between the fastest walking horses to get beforehand, in order to secure the best corner of the stable, or to obtain the best lodging.

Caravanseries are buildings of a quadrangular form, with no windows outwards, and no outlet but the gate, which is made strong enough to resist any nocturnal attack from Arabs and other robbers. The interior presents generally a very filthy court, with perhaps a well or basin in the middle, and around it an arcade, with the arches open, or walled up half way. The floor is the ground, not often bare, as being most usually covered with the dung of cattle. In a caravansery the traveller is not certain of finding anything. The peasants, perhaps, of some adjoining village, expose to sale barley-bread, figs, raisins, a species of wheat-meal to make gruel, straw, and sometimes, but not always, coffee, with tobacco and tombàk for smoking. About ninepence buys provisions for rider and horse. He ties up his animal, gives him his barley in the corn-bag; then, supping on fresh bread and a dish of rice, a few dried raisins, a cup of coffee and a pipe, he lies down, with his carpet for his bed, and his saddle-bags for a pillow. His horse sleeps with his saddle on, as in Turkey it is never thought safe to take it off when travelling in the winter season, excepting at sunrise for five minutes, just to air the horse’s back, and afford an opportunity of currying him a little. At sunrise, or before, the caravan renews the journey as on the preceding day; the traveller has nothing to pay for his lodging, goes through the same routine, and finds at night another caravansery to rest in.

The reader will consider all this as very uncomfortable; but let him recollect the difference which climate makes, and he will find that for nine months in the year the weather invites to sleep in the open air in preference to enclosed rooms. In the latitude I now was in, December is often milder than the June of England.

The road which the caravan took was not the same by which I had gone the first time, but inclined more to the eastward. As we departed late from Damascus, a halt was made at Kosayr, where we slept, within a very short distance of Damascus, for the purpose of awaiting and of collecting together the different merchants and travellers who were to make up the caravan. On the morrow we left Kosayr, and proceeded to Ketayfy. Not choosing to avail myself of the buyurdy, I had caused Ibrahim to purchase such things as were necessary for myself and the horses; but the head muker, or makairy (such is the name muleteers bear in Arabic), had been on business to the shaykh of the village, and the bare mention that I was physician to the meleky, or queen, as he called Lady Hester, who had passed so recently, brought down a peremptory invitation that I must go up and sup with him. Accordingly, I went, and found a Turk (not a Syrian Mahometan, for there is a wide distinction between them) of great breeding and civility, who seemed highly impressed with Lady Hester’s importance; nor did he interrupt his questions about her except to eat. His servant, a respectable-looking young man, of about twenty-two, who stood waiting submissively before him to serve our pipes, and who put the supper on the table, after all were seated, sat down with us. This is one of the patriarchal customs of the East.

On the 9th we reached Nebk. During the day, a military-looking gentleman belonging to our caravan, well mounted and armed, who had probably heard something of the shaykh’s civility to me on the preceding night, showed himself very adroit in courting my acquaintance, and constantly rode by my side, pointing out the objects of curiosity that presented themselves. As we approached Nebk, he asked me where I should lodge; and I told him in the caravansery. “Well, but have you no buyurdy?” I told him I had. “Then why not use it?” he said, “and let me accompany you to see to your lodgings: you need only say I am your guard. You have authority to demand good entertainment, and I will take care it shall be provided.” To this I objected, and was unwilling to let him go with me to the shaykh’s; but, when we arrived at Nebk, he clung to me with such an air of assurance that I did not know how to get rid of him. On presenting myself to the shaykh, he immediately ordered rations of barley for the horses to be given to us, and desired one of his people to conduct us to the bishop’s, where he said we were to lodge. He did not ask me if the Turkish officer was of my party; but, concluding him to be so, bade him accompany me.

I was angry with my own forbearance, when, on presenting myself to the venerable Syrian bishop, whom I had known on my former visit to Nebk, I saw, mixed with the hearty welcome he gave me, many a side glance of timidity and distress at my companion, who, the moment he entered, began to put himself at his ease, like officers on a march, by throwing off his accoutrements, asking for coffee, &c. My groom had warned me on the road that I should not suffer this man, who, he said, looked like an adventurer, to be too familiar with me: and I fully saw the propriety of his warning now that it was too late. The bishop gave me a good supper. He told me that the English princess had stopped at the village a whole day, and that she had taken away with her Abu Hanah and his wife: by whom he meant M. and Madame Lascaris, who having had a son named John or Hanah, were hence called, according to the custom of the East, he Abu Hanah or John’s father, and she Um Hanah, or John’s mother: for the pride of parents, in the East, is their first-born, more especially if a boy.

The khan or caravansery of Nebk is one of the most spacious and best built between Damascus and Hamah, but of the same plain form as that already described. Ibrahim woke me early. I had slept on the sofa in one of the bishop’s rooms in my clothes, and to rise from bed and shake myself was all the preparation necessary except washing. The night had been very cold, and the maid brought me warm water. The mode of washing in the East is quite different from that in use among us: the servant pours water from a ewer, like an old-fashioned coffee-pot, upon the hands, which is carried in splashes to the face and neck, and a basin held beneath, or on the ground, receives it, as it falls.

On the 10th in the morning we resumed our journey. The air was piercingly cold, for it now swept across the Desert. We arrived in the afternoon at Carah, where I was known, but I did not go to my old habitation, preferring the caravansery. On the 11th we reached Hassyah. There was a woman in the caravan, rather pretty, whose object on the journey appeared to be somewhat mysterious. She seemed to be a native of some of the Arab villages, as her face and arms were tatooed. She attached herself to the muleteer who had the care of my luggage, and who was very officious in attending to her wants, as in spreading out sacks and other things to render her rest during the night comfortable, &c.

When the business of the day was over, the muleteer made up a fire on the ground; and, seated at it with this woman, would carouse until a late hour in the night. Coffee, however, was their only liquor, and seldom could they afford more than two cups each. The intervals were filled up in smoking the narkýly, which passed from mouth to mouth between the muleteer and his dulcinea.

Prudence obliged me to sleep as near to my luggage as possible, and I was often, when not better lodged, compelled to lie down close to where they were. So, drawing my cloak over my face, I peeped out from time to time to see that my goods and chattels were safe, and thus undesignedly had occasion to observe their conduct, which was always conformable with that reserve of character for which Mahometan women are proverbial in the presence of strangers.

December the 12th we slept at Hems; and on the 14th in the evening I arrived at Hamah. There I found Lady Hester settled in a small but good house; and in another, also assigned to her, were M. Lascaris and his wife, with whom I took up my abode.

Lady Hester told me that a Bedouin Arab, a mulatto, named Hassan el Drymàn, had been sent to her by the Emir Mahannah, to beg the favour of a visit from her physician, as he was very infirm and much indisposed. This opportunity of sojourning with the Bedouins was eagerly caught at. My departure was immediately concluded on as a matter that would ensure a double purpose: for it would farther strengthen the friendship of the Emir, by whose permission alone Lady Hester could get to Palmyra; and would afford me an opportunity of judging how far there was a possibility for her to perform a journey through wastes, which, we were told, are without water and without vegetation. Hassan was therefore desired to wait a few days, until I could get ready to accompany him.

Lady Hester was already grown tired of M. Lascaris, whose recollections of the past were but little calculated to inspire him with feelings consonant to his present situation. Misfortune had affected his mind: and, one night, being suddenly called up by Madame Lascaris, I was witness to an attack of phrenzy that at once terrified me and excited my commiseration. I advised him, therefore, as a means of diverting his mind from his sorrow, to travel again; so, having received a handsome gratification from Lady Hester for his trouble, he was requested to make his present lodging his home, until he had decided whither to go.

During the few days I passed at Hamah previous to my departure, the secrecy with which the Turkish government is accustomed to execute its measures was exemplified in the removal and imprisonment of the motsellem. On the morning of the 19th of December, several soldiers, by twos and threes, had entered the place unobserved; and, being dispersed about, no notice was taken of them. On a sudden, they appeared in a body at the front of the motsellem’s house, and, entering it, seized his person. They then plundered his house and his stables, carrying off everything excepting his women; and the governor was in chains, and on his road to Damascus, almost before his disgrace was known.

M. Lascaris had long had an inclination to visit Palmyra, but never had been able to accomplish his purpose. He determined, therefore, on accompanying me, and relied for his security on the acquaintance he had made with the Emir Mahannah, when with Lady Hester Stanhope. He gave me to understand that he had formed the chimerical scheme of abandoning the world, to plant potatoes at Palmyra, and M. de Lamartine, in his Souvenirs du Levant, (Appendix) insists that, under these frivolous pretences, M. Lascaris was fulfilling a mission entrusted to him by the Emperor Napoleon to fraternize with the tribes of the Desert, and pave the way for conquests in the East, long meditated by that victorious monarch. I could not be otherwise than pleased that he should go with me, because I supposed that his knowledge of the Arabic language would be useful to me, and his society agreeable. Besides, in cases of danger, (and I did not think this expedition altogether free from it) it is pleasant to have a companion whose courage and experience may be useful. As Lady Hester herself has compressed most of these details of my narrative in a letter, I shall here annex it.

Lady Hester Stanhope to Lieut. General Oakes.

Hamah upon the Orontes,

January 25th, 1813.

My dear General,

You will hardly believe that your kind letters of April the 5th, May the 26th, and September the 24th, 1812, only reached me about a month ago at this place, together with the excellent medicine-chest you were so good as to send me. All had been detained at Smyrna, with other letters sent by Mr. Liston, till the plague had subsided a little. I must now return you my grateful thanks for the interest you were so good as to take about my misfortunes, and for having done as much as you have done to promote my comfort and convenience. If I was not afraid of boring you, I should say fifty times as much upon the subject of your goodness to me in every way.

I have written you three letters from Damascus—I think, indeed, whenever I had an opportunity; knowing that merchant-vessels went backwards and forwards from this coast to Malta, I thought it possible that if the captains could speak—for they are great newsmongers—all the reports in this country would be taken there, and alarm you for my safety. I am now referring to the one about the approach of the Wahabees upon Damascus, which obliged me to write you a hasty letter, which perhaps you never received. I wrote another after it to say the Wahabees had not been heard of in that quarter, as was expected. Previous to both these letters, I sent you a bag containing letters for England.

I have been obliged to give up my long intended journey to Palmyra for the present: for the pasha would send me, and the Arabs would take me, and there was such a fuss about it altogether, that it would not have been prudent to have undertaken it from Damascus. I now can account why the pasha’s man, into whose hands I was to be consigned, would take 1000 men, because the Arab chief had threatened to cut off his beard, and strip all his people naked, if he took me at all; the honour, the Arab said, should be his, as the desert was his. In the spring, however, we mean to try it again, and hope to succeed.

When B. was nursing Mr. Barker, who had a fever, I made an experiment upon the good faith of the Arabs; I went with the great chief, Mahanna El Fadel (who commands 40,000 men) into the desert for a week, and marched three days with their encampment. I was treated with the greatest respect and hospitality, and it was, perhaps, altogether, the most curious sight I ever saw: horses and mares fed upon camels’ milk, Arabs living upon little else, except a little rice, and sometimes a sort of bread; the space around me covered with living things, 1,000 camels coming to water from one tribe only; the old poets from the banks of the Euphrates, singing the praises and the feats of ancient heroes; children quite naked; women with lips dyed light-blue, and their nails red, and hands all over flowers and designs of different kinds; a chief who is obeyed like a great king—starvation and pride so mixed, that I really could not have had an idea of it: even the clothes I presented the sons of Mahanna they could not carry, or indeed hold, but called a black slave to take them. However, I have every reason to be perfectly contented with their conduct towards me, and I am the queen with them all.

The Wahabees, I find, are at least 40,000 strong, and many more when joined by other Arabs, enough to overthrow the Ottoman empire. If Mahomet Ali drives them from Mecca, they will come down upon Syria, and then take refuge again in the desert; and what troops are to follow them? I thought my horse did great things to come a long three days’ journey without water; and to carry water for cavalry would be impossible, I should imagine. In short, I fear we shall hear much of these Wahabees hereafter.

So you wish to be once more in a field of battle?—this is like a true soldier, who, I believe, is never happy out of it.

We came to this place to be near the desert, and to learn a little of what is going on there from good authority;—the Arabs being still at war, it is necessary to be aware of their proceedings. Last month the weather was delightful, but of late it has snowed; and so much rain has fallen, that not a house in the place is habitable. Every room is a pond, and there is no communication betwixt one part of the town and the other, from the Orontes having overflowed:—firing very scarce, and everybody very miserable. A village a mile off has been half destroyed, and fifty persons killed, either by the falling-in of the houses, or drowned.

Not long ago, a body of Albanians, by order of the pasha, entered this town, took the governor out of his bed, put him into chains, carried him off, and seized all his property, and also every fine horse they could lay their hands upon. A very showy horse Suliman Pasha of Acre had given me, I had given to the doctor, and it was waiting for him before the door of a public bath; the Albanians were marching off with that also, although told it belonged to a Frank, not a Turk. One, however, asked, is the Frank one of the queen’s people? Upon being answered in the affirmative, he said, “Take the horse to the stable, I shall not touch it, but some of our people may, not knowing to whom it belongs.” What I have before told you about myself, I know, my dear General, looks like conceit, but it is true; and it is something to have one’s people and things respected at a moment when no legislative power exists in a place, and every one is in fear and trembling.

As soon as the weather mends, Mulla Ismael, the powerful Delibash, will return from Damascus; the pasha sent him to collect the miri in Palestine, for he was afraid to go himself. Mulla Ismael is a great friend of mine, and I shall go out to meet him in the Turkish way: it will be a compliment to him, and besides make me personally known to those of his troops who have not seen me before. He is a very jolly Turk, and has four wives here, and I believe fifty women—so many that I cannot count them: they are all very good to me, and less shut up than any women I ever saw in this country. No Pasha has ever yet succeeded in cutting off this man’s head, though many have tried; but he is too powerful, and the Arabs are too fond of him. He has taken refuge amongst them twice, and he now feeds every Arab who comes into Hamah, as a mark of his gratitude.

B. is in very good health, and means to write to you; the doctor is curing Arab chiefs somewhere about Palmyra. After the experiment I made in going alone amongst these people, I thought I might safely send him, which I did with a single Arab, who was to put him into the hands of my powerful friend, Mahanna El Fadel. He went very safe, and was extremely well treated the last time I heard: but Mahanna told him that if B. attempted to come into the desert, unless with me, he would cut off the heads of those who brought him before his eyes.

Adieu, my dear General, and believe me,

Ever yours most sincerely,

H. L. S.

Your Vino d’Oro is now waiting near the coast, and, as soon as a good opportunity offers, it shall be sent. Hope was to have taken it, but he is gone; but I trust I may hear of other good captains upon the coast in the spring: in a Greek ship it would be all drunk. I am trying to get some wild boar hams prepared for you, but I am yet uncertain how I shall succeed. We want strong dogs here very much, for the boars are very savage. I must not forget to tell you that the Chevalier Lascaris is become deranged. He goes about, however, but is, nor never will be, fit for anything; but as being employed and having money from Malta is always uppermost in his thoughts, it would be a charity to put him out of suspense by some formal letter—that is to say, if you think it quite proper.

It was necessary to make a total alteration in my dress previous to setting off; for anything that could excite the cupidity of the Bedouins was to be considered as unnecessarily smart. I therefore purchased two very coarse cotton shirts, with long sleeves tapering to a point; a white cotton kombaz; a pair of cotton drawers, which were to serve as breeches; worsted socks; uncouth red boots; two tanned sheepskin pelisses, one long and one short; a red skull cap, to be covered with a silk handkerchief, called a keffýah, green and orange-coloured, the corners of which, drawn across the lower part of the face, leave only the eyes visible. As Bedouins have little to do with the washtub, these different articles were thought abundantly sufficient for an entire wardrobe. The cost of them was about two pounds sterling. A second-hand abah, striped blue and white, was the ragged covering of the whole. (See engraving.) M. Lascaris was attired nearly in the same manner. It was on the 2nd of January, 1813, that we left Hamah, and this accounts for the anticipation of some details in the latter part of Lady Hester’s letter, which is dated the 25th.

The curious reader is requested to compare these dates with the history of this same M. Lascaris, as related by M. de Lamartine in his “Souvenirs du Levant.”

CHAPTER IV.

The author enters the Desert—Hostile tribes of Bedouins—Beni Khaled Arabs—Their tents, manners, &c.—Arabian hospitality—Tels or Conical mounds—Aspect of the Desert—Want of Water—Hadidýn Arabs—Mountains of Gebel el Abyad—Bedouin horsemen—Bedouin encampment—Mahannah, the Emir—Bedouin repasts—Character of Mahannah—Nature of his authority—His revenue—Means used by the Bedouins to obtain gifts—March of a Bedouin tribe—Contrivance for mounting camels—Gentleness of the camel—Snow—Search for Water—Detention of the author by Mahannah—He is suffered to depart for Palmyra—Encounter with robbers—Plain of Mezah—Disappointment at the distant sight of Palmyra—Arrival there.

We were mounted on stallions well conditioned. Each was provided with a wallet, containing three feeds of barley, twenty bread-cakes, three pounds of raisins, a provision of coffee, a bag of tobacco, and with a leathern water-bottle. We had no arms but my carbine, which Hassan carried; M. Lascaris not choosing to be burdened with any, and I following the advice of Lady Hester, who desired me to show no mistrust of my guide; and Hassan received to the value of four guineas at parting, which sum was to be doubled at my safe return.

After travelling two hours, the marks of cultivation ceased, and we might be said to have entered the Desert. Here we passed a small rivulet, that empties itself into the Orontes, where we watered our horses, and, after drinking ourselves, filled our water-bottles, there being no other running stream in the intermediate space until our arrival at Palmyra. At a quarter to two we came to a ruined village, where, in the year 1811, was fought a battle between the tribes of the Anizy and the Faydân, in which the latter were completely routed, their wives, their camels, and their tents, falling into the hands of the victors. To the north of the field of battle, on the summit of a conical mountain, stands a castle in ruins, called Calâat Shumamys. Passing it at the distance of half a league, we inclined to the north, and came abreast of Salamyah, one mile off. Salamyah, once a populous Arab town, but now without an inhabitant, was destroyed by the grandfather of Mahannah, the emir I was about to visit.

Our course was now due east, as far as could be judged by the sun, for we were not furnished with a compass. On our right we observed a conical mound, with heaps of stones on its summit, apparently relics of an old building. As soon as the view opened beyond it, Hassan espied some smoke, which he knew to proceed from Arab tents. We made towards it, and reached a circular encampment of about forty tents. They were those of the Beni Khaled, a tribe who live by their flocks.[26] Such Arabs as these would seem to form the connecting link between the Bedouins and the husbandmen of the villages; living under tents, and shifting from place to place in search of pasture, like the former, but, like the latter, paying tribute to the pasha of the district. Their tents are more comfortable than those of the Bedouins; they are more civilized, and, in their dress and food, are on a par with the peasantry.

We alighted at the tent of the shaykh, or chieftain. The tent appeared to be about forty feet long, divided by a partition which gave two thirds to the women and one third to the men. It was made of a coarse black stuff, which the women weave from, I believe, goat’s hair, and which resembles in its texture horsehair sacking. The tent consisted of a double pent roof, supported by four, six, eight, or more stakes, extended by means of ropes pegged in the ground. To the windward side a curtain is tacked on, that generally lets in the wind, the rain, or the snow, through the interstices. A curtain of the same stuff formed the division between the men and the women. The front was entirely open. This description may serve for all the Arab tents, with this difference, that the Bedouins, for the most part, have theirs full of rents and holes, and that they are otherwise wanting in something to make them weather-tight; so that to live under them is nearly the same as living in the open air. The furniture of a tent consists of three or four flowered carpets, about as large as bed-carpets, which they spread to sit and sleep on. For cushions they make use of the pack-saddles of the camels. The richer sort have occasionally a flowered cotton or satin coverlet, generally faded and ragged; for it never happened to me to see more than one new one. The women likewise have sometimes cane screens, prettily worked in colours, which they set up, in order not to be seen from without, in front of the tent; but they care so little for these petty luxuries, that, in the season of lambing, they will oftener pen their lambs with them than use them for themselves, although the sheep generally drop their lambs in the depth of winter.

The few utensils they have are a small copper boiler, a coffee-pot, and two or three coffee-cups of different sizes, a wooden pestle and mortar to pound coffee, and an iron ladle to roast it in: this is the apparatus for coffee-drinking, the most important business of Bedouin housekeeping. For cooking they are provided with a large flat saucepan without handles, a porridge-pot, and an iron dish something of the shape of a pewter plate. There is a flat iron dish for baking the bread, and a portable corn-mill for grinding wheat when they have any. Spoons, knives and forks, skimmers, and all the etcetera of European kitchens, they despise, and would not use if they had them.

We alighted from our horses, which Hassan tethered for us, and entered the tent. Everybody rose to receive us, and the upper place was immediately vacated for us. The shaykh’s son, untying the corner of his shirt-sleeve, produced from it half a handful of raw coffee, and, taking the ladle, proceeded himself to roast it, turning it over occasionally with an iron spoon, which was chained to the ladle that it might not be lost or stolen. The coffee, when roasted, was turned into the mortar; and, with a deliberate and solemn air, the son commenced pounding it. This he did in measured time, between every beat jingling the pestle against the sides of the mortar; a sort of music never omitted by the coffee-pounder, who gets more or less credit, according as he beats and jingles more or less in time. The sound of the mortar is the signal for all the idlers on every side to flock in, in order to get a cup of coffee, and in a few minutes we were in the midst of a dozen self-invited Bedouins. The coffee-maker then, taking out the cups from a small basket, which the better sort have to keep them in, wiped them with an old rag; for water is much too precious an article to be used on such occasions. He gave his left hand a graceful turn, poured out the coffee, drank a little himself, and then handed it to us and to Hassan. We took it without ceremony, but Hassan insisted that he could not drink before the master of the tent: much compliment ensued, and Hassan was persuaded. This beverage was poured out scalding hot from the fire; and, besides the certainty of burning the tongue, hot coffee without sugar or milk to any one but an oriental, has but a bitter and unsavoury taste.[27] The same cup (and sometimes they have but one) was often filled for another person. We were then politely asked what news there was, and who we were; for it is a rule of hospitality never to require a guest to tell his business until he has rested himself and drunk his coffee.

The sun being set, we were witnesses to the return of the herds of camels and goats and of the flocks of sheep from pasture. This, in a desert, is the most cheerful sight that can be imagined. The musical call of the herdsmen, joined with the bleating and lowing of such vast numbers of animals, covering, as they approached the tents, a circle of a league, formed a pastoral scene that can nowhere be witnessed but with the Arabs. The women milked the ewes and the goats, and folded the lambs and kids; whilst the flocks and herds, assembled within the circle of the tents, were guarded by the dogs, who patrole round the outside, and render the approach of wolves and hyenas with which the Desert is infested almost impossible. The shepherds themselves, wrapped in their pelisses of sheepskin, sleep in the midst of them.

The women now prepared the supper. Opening a sack of flour, they kneaded a certain quantity with water; and, without the aid of rolling-pins, by a rotatory motion of the left arm, they flattened the paste into a thin circular shape, about one foot and a half in diameter. They then laid it on an iron plate, placed over a fire made in a hole in the ground, and in three minutes it was baked. Lastly, they threw it on the ashes to keep it warm, until a sufficient number of these cakes were prepared: and, this done, supper was served up. It consisted, on the present occasion, of a dish of scraps of mutton chopped up with onions, and fried with butter, and a dish of boiled rice with melted butter poured over it. A circular rush mat, about three feet in diameter, was thrown on the bare ground; and, round it, before each guest, were likewise thrown (as the Arabs did not seem to make a practice of stooping) two or three of the above mentioned bread-cakes; for it is considered as the highest dereliction of hospitality among them not to put bread more than enough. As many persons as could find room round the table placed themselves at it. They doubled the left leg under them, and, sitting with their haunches on their left heel, their right leg crooked with the knee towards the chin, they rested their right arm, bared up to the elbow, upon it. Without spoons, with nothing else but their fingers, each thrust his right hand into the dish; and, grasping a handful, tossed it up as a brickmaker does his clay, until he had cooled it and squeezed out the superfluous butter, which, falling again into the dish, was taken up in the next handful, to be again served in the same way. This extraordinary mode of eating is the effect of necessity. Every thing is served up in the same saucepan in which it is cooked, and, as haste in eating (for they cannot be said to be voracious) is a marked feature among them, were any one to wait until the dish cooled to his liking, he would probably find nothing left. As, therefore, he grasps a handful too hot to hold, he jerks it up and down, until, by exposing it to the air, it is somewhat cooler. He then passes his thumb, from below upwards, across the palm of his hand, and thus conveys the huge pellet into his mouth. As soon as any one has finished, he rises, and is succeeded by another, this one by a third, and so on in succession, until either the guests are all satisfied, or, which more frequently happens, until the dish is cleared.

Instead of washing their hands after eating (as is universally practised in towns throughout the East) they drew them through the dust on the ground to remove the grease, and then wiped them on their cloaks. This excess of filth no doubt has its origin in the constant want of water: yet it has been observed that, when encamped near a stream, they will do the same thing. Coffee was again served with the same formalities as before, and a conversation of about two hours concluded the evening.

Gathering our little effects together, for fear of losing them during the night, and tethering our horses within a few feet of the tent from the like apprehension, we placed our wallets under our heads for pillows, and, covering ourselves with our pelisses, took turns to watch and sleep during the night; the ground our bed and the heavens our covering. But, although the season of the year was winter, the weather was mild, and we flattered ourselves that it would continue so.

On the third of January, before sunrise, we untied our horses, and, without inquiring for our host or he for us, departed. The hospitality of the Orientals has been much praised by many authors; but it seems to be a duty which they perform ceremoniously and coldly, unless they foresee some advantage from it.

We proceeded in an easterly direction. The plain now showed no signs of ruined habitations, as on the preceding day. We passed several mounds, generally called in Arabic Tel, like that observed near the field of battle of the Anizy and Faydân tribes. It cannot be doubted that these mounds are artificial, and served as the sites of watch-towers or of fortresses to protect villages built at the foot of them. This is probable from the similarity of shape in all of them, it being conical: and also because they are observed only through the champaign part of the Desert, where a small elevation could command the neighbouring country, and give an extent of prospect necessary for military observation. What further confirms this opinion is that, beyond the ruins of Salamyah, there are four mounds in a strait line, an exactitude not often observable in the works of nature.[28]

Immense flights of birds, known by the name of partridges of the Desert, were seen in every direction: occasionally also some eagles and cranes. It is curious to mark how the size of objects is increased when seen on the edge of the horizon in these wastes. The eagles appeared like men: and there now seemed to me to be nothing ludicrous in the misconception of General Dessaix, who, when in Egypt, took a flock of ostriches for a troop of horse, and arranged his men in order of battle for their reception.

Towards noon, the look of the country, from having been like the Sussex Downs, changed to a rocky appearance. And here we may correct an erroneous idea as to the nature of these Deserts: that name does not (as is generally imagined) imply always a sandy barrenness and unfitness for culture, but rather the absence of towns and villages, and the want of water and cultivation; many portions of the Syrian desert being, as in the present instance, as productive under tillage as other places are. The Arabs make use of a word beréah, which, literally translated, means “waste;” and the term Desert can only be applied with precision to the sands of Africa. The want of water is the effect of the policy of the Bedouins; who choke up what springs and wells they can, in order to render the lodgment of troops impossible, and thus to maintain their own independence; trusting for themselves to a knowledge of remote springs, and to a precarious supply from holes in the rocks; or drinking the milk of their camels. Nor would the possession of the Desert be a matter of difficulty to troops furnished with the means of digging wells, which Ottoman troops never are: for water, I understood, was to be found at twelve feet deep nearly throughout the whole tract which we passed. And it is remarkable that, at the entrance on the vast plain to the East of Palmyra, which Wood and Dawkins pronounced to have been eternally desert, water is found at a depth of three feet only, according to an experiment made under my own eyes, during our second journey. The Desert, then, of Syria is to be figured in the mind as a country of hills, mountains, and plains: in the spring covered with verdure, in the autumn burnt up with heat. But to return from this digression.

We here found rain-water lodged in holes, and, alighting, drank, and unbridled the horses, that they might do the same. It was an affecting sight to observe the poor animals, after twenty four hours’ thirst, eagerly attempting to get at the puddles, which, being sunk in holes, were difficult to come at. One gave it up; the other fell on his knees, and contrived to moisten his mouth, but could not succeed in slaking his thirst. Hassan, in the mean time, observed all this with indifference, whilst we, commiserating our poor animals, could have almost wept at the sight. The former knew, that, if we were not unusually fortunate, we might have to endure hunger and thirst for double that period: whilst we, new to the scene, saw every thing with the eyes of persons used to the comforts of civilized life. Our wallets were now examined, and we made a very humble dinner on dry bread, raisins, and water, and some fragments which Hassan had secured.

Remounting, we continued our journey. Our route was very zigzag, as we crossed in every direction where Hassan thought we might fall in with the tribes we were in search of. The soil was still rocky. At two o’clock we passed over the foundations of a ruined town, once inhabited (as Hassan told us) by Turkmans. The remains of an aqueduct and a cistern were visible. A short distance farther, we came to the foot of a chain of low mountains, running north and south, where we found abundance of water lodged in holes as before, but easy to get at. Here the horses drank abundantly, and appeared to acquire fresh spirits and vigour. On the left, about two miles off, Hassan pointed to the ruins of a town, where he said there existed a reservoir of water in good preservation. The mountains were covered with a scattered forest of the turpentine tree, and these were the first trees we had seen since leaving Hamah.

We ascended a circuitous path through a defile, and came to the summit. Passing by a way seemingly cut by the hand of man at some early period through the rock, the view, on a sudden, opening before us, we espied, about a league off, a herd of goats browsing: an indication that there were tents not far off. We descended into a valley, wanting, apparently, nothing but the assistance of the husbandman to render it as fertile as the vale of the Bkâ, or any of the celebrated plains of Syria. Crossing it, and reascending the opposite mountain, we came to an elevated tract of downs. Here was encamped a party of the tribe of the Hadýdy, whom Hassan immediately recognized by the number of asses grazing round the tents. They were Bedouins, paying no tribute. They rode on asses, and used firearms, then chiefly matchlocks. Their riches consisted principally in sheep and goats; having few camels: and on this account they were considered as a degenerated tribe; the true Bedouin despising all animals but horses and camels.

Hassan deliberated whether it would be proper to pass the night with them or not: for he gave us to understand that they were inhospitable and of a thievish disposition. Night, however, was coming on; and learning, upon inquiry, that the Melhem, the tribe to which we were going, was some leagues off, he led the way to the tent of the shaykh or chieftain, where we alighted.

Hassan had underrated their civility on this occasion; for the shaykh, when he knew who we were, showed us much attention. This was owing to a circumstance which contributed greatly to the kind treatment we received throughout the Desert, and which it is worth while to mention. When Lady Hester, during the month of December, had paid a visit to the Emir of the Anizys, at that time encamped near the ruins of Salamyah, she had made him several presents: and the reputation of her generosity being spread about, ensured a kind reception to any one who now came in her name, from the hopes of a participation in her future favours on her proposed journey to Palmyra; for the Arabs are poor and covetous, and never neglect any channel that may lead to gain, however circuitous it may appear to be.

A dish of melted butter, with bread soaked in it, was served for supper, and we slept as on the preceding night. On the 4th, soon after sunrise, we bridled our horses, and proceeded on our way. People who have no fixed habitation are not always immediately to be found. It is indeed a wild-goose chase to go in search of an Arab’s tents; and, though inquiry had been made of every person that could afford information, all that could be learned was that Mahannah was encamped somewhere at the foot of Gebel el Abyad, a chain of mountains of some leagues, which extends east and west, wide of Palmyra. The White Mountain (so Gebel el Abyad means) was in sight, and Hassan took the lead towards it in an east-south-east direction, as I guessed the point of the compass to be from the sun. The weather was clear and mild, having favoured us thus far from the day of our departure. We had proceeded but a short distance before we crossed a drove of camels, led by a Bedouin girl mounted on the bell camel, whilst the herdsman, mounted also, brought up the rear. Hassan recognized him as one of his own tribe, and, salutations having passed, inquired where the Emir Mahannah was. The herdsman informed him that the emir was that day moving his tents to fresh pastures.

Inclining to the south-east, we encountered other herds and several Bedouin horsemen. The plain now wore a barren appearance, being gravelly, with patches of moss that seemed to destroy vegetation. The horsemen, however distant they might be from us, never failed to ride up and ascertain who we were; and, when Hassan made himself and us known, still they would unceremoniously fumble our wallets with the points of their spears to feel what they contained, as if lamenting that the protection of our conductor prevented them from appropriating the contents to themselves. Some, with gloomy insolence, demanded a pipe of tobacco; which, as we had been previously instructed to do, we always refused or denied having: for it is the maxim of the Bedouins to try a person’s fears by a small demand, with which, if he complies, they proceed to a greater, and finish, if they think it safe, by stripping him of all he has. Their scowling looks, rendered more suspicious by the vizor of their handkerchiefs, made their questions very unpleasant, and we felt uneasy, although we knew, or at least felt assured, that nothing could happen to us, protected as we were by Hassan, the Emir Mahannah’s officer.

Obtaining fresh information as we proceeded, we continued inclining to the right, and, at the close of the day, had made nearly a semicircle, finishing in the west. The whole of the way this day we met with no water, and our only repast was dry bread and the remains of the supply in the water-bottles. About four o’clock we found ourselves in the midst of several droves of camels, and a quarter of an hour more brought us to the encampment. Some tents were already pitched without order either as to precedence or regularity; and, on subsequent occasions, it was observable that every Bedouin chose the spot he liked best, with this exception, that the relations and slaves of the emir generally occupied the ground immediately about him. We advanced towards the emir, and alighted. Whilst his tent was pitching, he had seated himself on the ground; and his slaves, having lighted a blazing fire, were preparing coffee. He rose to receive us, being apprised of our coming by certain Bedouins, who had passed us. Nasar, the eldest son of the emir, whom I had known at Hamah, saluted me with a kiss on each cheek, the common salutation between friends among them. Being seated, coffee was served, and a moment was given for observing the physiognomy and dress of the emir, prince at that time of all the desert tract of country which extends, in the rear of Syria, from Aleppo down to Damascus and as far back as the Euphrates.

He seemed to be about fifty-five years old, with a piercing eye, which amply made up for the defect of hearing under which he laboured. His beard was ragged and shaggy, as were his eyebrows. His face and hands, apparently strangers to the use of water, were begrimed with dirt. On his head he wore a shawl of stuff, coarse as a towel, put on with the superlative carelessness of a Bedouin toilet. In other respects his dress resembled that described above as the costume of this people, excepting that he had no breeches or drawers, and no boots or shoes; his feet having for their only covering a pair of worsted socks. His body vest or frock, however, was of fine striped satin of Damascus, red and yellow, originally perhaps the plunder of some traveller, but now exhibiting all the magnificence of Rag-fair.[29]

After coffee, a platter of what the Arabs call dibs was set on the ground, with about a dozen bread-cakes like those before described. This dibs is the scum of boiled juice of grapes, in French raisiné, and has much the taste and appearance of treacle: it is a favourite dish with all the Arabs. We were invited to eat by ourselves; the emir having probably eaten before our arrival.

In the mean time, the princess, wife of Mahannah, with her daughter and her black slaves, were employed in unloading the cooking-utensils, carpets, &c., from the camels. This done, the daughter took a pickaxe in her hand, and went in search of roots for firing, the plain producing no other fuel. In about half an hour she returned, bearing an enormous load bound up in her woollen cloak, which would have fatigued the shoulders of an English porter. She was a girl of about seventeen, with tolerably good features, a muddy brown complexion, and teeth as white as snow.

Preparations were now made for supper. As the tent of the emir is the resort of all strangers who arrive from different quarters, there were seldom fewer than a dozen persons to be fed besides his own family, which was also very numerous. An immense flat boiler, containing not less than twelve gallons, was placed on the fire, and half filled with rice, water, and butter. The water collected from holes in the rock, and from puddles, and brought in goat-skins, was as muddy as that of a horsepond. The mixture was boiled until the water was evaporated, and consequently the mud incorporated. When cooked, it was served up reeking in the same boiler. It was eaten in the same manner that has been already described, a second and a third set succeeding the first: whilst the boys stood round, like so many dogs, to catch a pellet, occasionally given them by their fathers.

To conclude what may be said on the repasts of the Bedouins, it cannot be denied that they approach nearer to beasts in their manner of eating than any other people. To give an example: a horseman, on a showery day, arrives, and alights at the tent; and his first care is to dry his feet at the fire, and wipe them with his hands. Dinner or supper happens to be served at the same instant, and he seats himself to handle his food with the same fingers that have just served so nasty a purpose: it being understood that he seldom can, and never does, wash them. Is a stranger at table? Politeness demands that the host should heap up the rice in the dish before him, or, if it be meat, should tear it from the bones and hand it to him; which it would be an affront in the stranger to refuse. Does the repast consist (which is often the case) of bread and melted butter? he breaks the bread and works it up for his guest with the butter: all which operations are executed with the hands. In fine, those who have seen the Drûzes of Mount Lebanon devour raw meat, or the chimney-sweepers of London swallow black pudding, still have never witnessed such a meal as the repasts of the Bedouins.

Coffee was served, pipes were lighted, and, as we were just arrived from Hamah, whence we were supposed to have brought tobacco with us, we had much ado to withstand the bold and frequent requests to fill the pipes of our neighbours. A conversation on the politics of the plain concluded the evening. The prince retired to his wife, while the rest of the party betook themselves, each on the spot where he sat, to sleep; merely drawing his cloak over his face, and putting his wallet under his head, both to serve as a pillow, and to prevent its being pilfered.

An Arab never undresses but to clean himself from vermin. The clothes he has he wears until they either fall off his back in rags, or fresh plunder, or a present from his chief, supplies him with a better suit. Few of them have more than a shirt and a sheepskin pelisse—going without frock, stockings, and boots. These three latter articles, indeed, not many can afford, and many care not for. Their sheepskin is of the greatest use to them, serving instead of a bed to sleep on, and as a covering from wet and cold at all seasons.

It may not be improper to say a few words in order that it may be better understood by the reader what the title Emir implies. Mahannah el Fadel might be said to command that tract of country which extends from Hamah down to Damascus, and backwards as far as Palmyra, perhaps beyond; but it is impossible for a stranger to learn or mark out any precise boundaries for a people, the nature of whose possessions, and even of whose existence, is so uncertain, both from the vicissitudes of their fortune, and from their wandering habits. He was chieftain of the tribe of the Melhem, and had in subjection to him other tribes, all of which go by the general name of Anizy Arabs. What the nature of his authority over them was I could not ascertain; such as it was, he succeeded to it at his father’s death, not as an hereditary right, but from the preponderance that his family had had the art to secure to itself. This preponderance seems to be owing to several causes; for the family was very numerous, and succeeding emirs had the means, by various intermarriages with the rich shaykhs of the tribe, to combine a vast extent of interests in the chief of it.

But, although a prince, Mahannah did not seem to be a single jot more polished than his meanest herdsman. Perhaps any excess of urbanity, any appearance of dignity, would only tend, among a rude people, to weaken his power instead of strengthening it: on common occasions he was, therefore, but one of the herd. His tent was larger but had not more splendour; his mare was not more richly caparisoned than that of others, nor did he seem to me to be distinguished by his external appearance from that of the commonest Bedouins round him. Equality, no doubt, does not reign among them; but how far the assumption of much authority would be followed by the desertion of such as thought themselves oppressed by it, I will not venture to say. The security which laws afford the weak against the strong certainly does not exist here in the same extent as in cities, and all the boasted advantages of their seeming equality only enable the aggrieved to retire from the aggressor.

Neither did the dignity we may attribute to the person of a chieftain seem better protected. Had a Bedouin presumed to insult Mahannah, had he dared to dispute his commands, where was the remedy? He might, indeed, as he was often said to do, in the fury of passion, inflict the chastisement which the culprit merited with his own hand, or he might brood over the insult until an opportunity occurred of revenging it. There was no protection against theft but watchfulness, no surety against murder but that worst of all laws, the law of retaliation.

Mahannah levied a toll of about the value of eighteen-pence a head, and two dollars for each camel-load on all caravans that passed through or by his territory. I was told that he annually received a present of six shillings a head from all the merchants of Damascus, Aleppo, and the towns between them. He levied contributions of corn, of provisions, of dress, upon the villages of the desert, such as Palmyra (which is said to pay him one thousand five hundred piasters in money, and to the same amount in clothes), Carietayn, Sedad, and others. Hamah paid him 150 camel-loads of wheat, which he generally distributed among his friends. Besides this, he scrupled not, when his necessities were pressing, to demand of the governors or rich individuals with whom he was friendly, articles of dress, horses, and the like: nor did he fail, generally, to weary the liberality of his most generous friends.

But there was another mode of enriching himself which must not be passed over in silence. Whoever, as a stranger, ventured to trust himself in the power of the Bedouins, had reason to perceive that, as robbery is their profession, they are dexterous enough to have more ways than one in committing it; and that he who receives hospitality from them, however much vaunted by travellers the sacredness of that hospitality may be, is doomed to pay for it in some way or other. Business, the oppression of the government, and sometimes curiosity, but never pleasure, brings every now and then a Syrian of consideration among them, and the tent of the prince is the place where he is sure of a welcome. Scarcely has he passed a night under it, when the prince politely admires the beauty of his shawl, and by obvious hints asks him for it. There is no alternative for the visitor but to beg his acceptance of it; for he recollects that he is in his power, and that what is so politely asked for may be forcibly taken. Supposing he opens his saddle-bags or his box, and some curious eye discovers that he has a provision of coffee, or a change of linen? the prince is informed of it, and begs to see it, and, as it is something not actually on the person of his guest, he fairly asks him for it. Our visitor, as is the custom in the East, slips off his boots when he enters the tent: the prince observes that they are better than his own, and unceremoniously when he goes out makes an exchange with him. But, not to leave him the satisfaction of knowing, at least, that he has contributed to the comfort or finery of his host, he sees the very articles given away, after a few days’ wear, to some strange shaykh, who, were he to meet the original proprietor alone in the desert, would make no scruple of stripping him entirely.

All these were formerly the secondary sources of revenue to the Anizys, whilst the pilgrimage to Mecca, before the tomb of the Prophet fell into the hands of the Wahabees, was an annual harvest to them; for it was the Anizys who escorted it across the desert, and furnished the pilgrims with camels. This honourable employment was granted to the ancestors of Mahannah by an imperial firman.[30]

Mahannah was said to be of a very choleric disposition. He was active, though now far advanced in life, and was esteemed a brave man. He had been married three times; one wife only survived. Domestic disputes were extremely frequent in his tent, and were managed on both sides with all the eloquence that generally accompanies them in Europe.

On Tuesday morning, at dawn, the party in the tent arose, and, adjusting themselves, assembled in a ring round the fire. Coffee was served, and orders were given for striking the tents, and for proceeding towards a spring in the south-west, in order to water the cattle. The extraordinary time during which it is asserted a camel can support thirst, has been often mentioned by travellers. The Bedouins in the winter let them go for one hundred and forty hours, and, on the present occasion, it was the fifth day that they had not drunk. But they appear to me in this respect to differ very little from other animals; for, during winter and spring, it is the moisture in the herbage which renders drink unnecessary, as happens to sheep, which, I am inclined to think, get no water for an equally long interval. But, in the dry season, a camel must drink as often as an ass; and I consider what has been advanced of the camel’s carrying water in its stomach to be a legend, and of its marvellous property of enduring thirst to be much exaggerated. As to the horses of the Bedouins, they too are accustomed, at this season, to an abstinence of from forty-eight to sixty hours, which latter period, however, is the greatest. They are generally watered from holes in rocks, or puddles, which are sometimes not to be found short of one or two leagues from the tents; and, these failing, from the water-skins, or, as a last resort, from the udder of the camel, although I was not an eyewitness to this.

The order of march observed by the Bedouins is nearly as follows; the shaykhs, and such as are masters of a tent, retire to a small distance from it, and, squatting on the ground, with their mares standing by them, and their spears planted, smoke their pipes, whilst their women strike the tent. In Mahannah’s family there were slaves also, who assisted in the hand labour. These are the descendants of blacks purchased during the flourishing state of the tribe, in the days of the Mecca pilgrimage. They differ in nothing from other Bedouins, excepting, as it is said, that they cannot marry a white Bedouin; for the offspring of slaves, I was told, are free among the Bedouins, although not among the Turks.

The women, then, having rolled up their carpets, packed their kitchen utensils, and struck their tents, load the pack-camels, and prepare those intended for mounting. For this purpose, the rich families are provided with a machine, rude in its construction but not altogether devoid of beauty in its appearance. It consists of two short ladders, each about a yard in length, curved outwardly, narrow below and wide above, and attached to each other by transverse staves; these are bound to the pack-saddle, and this saddle is fixed on the camel’s hump, and is girthed on by old rope and hide-thongs. Worsted web ribbons, with gaudy tassels, dangle from the top. On the ceremony of a marriage, this machine is highly decorated; but, not having witnessed such an event, I am unable to describe exactly how. The strongest camels are always chosen to carry it. Those who are unprovided with this machine roll a carpet in the shape of a bird’s-nest, which they tie on the camel’s back, and look, when seated in it, not unlike a sitting hen.

The camels are without bridles or halters; but, accustomed to the call of the herdsman, they march along with a docility that leaves no cause for fear to those who are mounted on them. The herdsman himself rides on a species of pack-saddle, something like the tree of an hussar saddle, and sometimes guides his camel by means of a rope passed through the cartilage of the nose. All being ready, each family marches separately, and the desert becomes a moving scene for some miles round. The horsemen proceed at a foot pace, from which they never vary, except when occasional races take place to gain a spot where water is known to lodge, or when the youths tilt with each other for amusement. The Bedouin girls are seen dropping from the backs of the camels to drive in those that stray, and then, seizing the animal’s tail, remount with an agility quite astonishing.

Sweet and graceful was thy form, black and full, like the antelope’s, were thine eyes, lovely Raby (for thy father called thee by name), as thou didst vault from the ground, and, placing thy naked foot on the projecting bone of the camel’s leg, didst bound on his rump again. Hard seemed such a seat for thy delicate limbs; and the undulating motion, communicated to thy body by the lengthened steps of the unwearied beast whose back thou didst bestride, had a strange moving look through the clear atmosphere of the desert which thy sylphlike form intercepted. Diana’s nymphs were gross peasants to thee, light aërial vision!

And was it a natural feeling of goodness, or the coquetry which wicked man too readily attributes to all thy sex, that made thee turn thy winning look on the stranger? How could a single smile of thine leave so lasting an impression, that he forgets it not after a lapse of full thirty years? Did it not seem to say—Why gazest thou on me so earnestly, gentle cavalier? I know I am pretty, for many chieftains of my tribe have already (albeit I am but fourteen years old) asked me in marriage: but my father demands fifty camels and a mare of pure breed for my dowry, and he that would have me must pay the price of my charms. And I murmured to myself, Raby, why dost thou expose those beautiful features, those nascent beauties which thy youthful neck betrays, to the rays of the hot sun? Be more niggardly of thy charms, for few can boast such as thine.—A stumble of my horse recalled me to myself; but Raby was still before me, and from time to time occupied my thoughts.

And here, I reflected, is a brown creature, full of life and activity, whose utmost accomplishments amount to gathering fuel, fetching water, pitching a tent, baking, cooking, and tending herds of camels, or feeding her father’s mare. Yet she is esteemed valuable, and must be bought at a high price: whilst, in my own country, fair maidens, with complexions white as the driven snow, versed in literature and the fine arts, can find no market for their persons, and go down to the grave deploring their single wretchedness! Whence can such an anomaly proceed? if it is not that, in the one case the wife repays the purchase by her services, so useful to the comfort of her husband, and in the other a partner often becomes dear to him that weds her, by the expenses she entails on him, without any remunerating qualities which can contribute to his welfare, or a knowledge of domestic duties to ameliorate his condition. An English maiden must be dressed in a robe of Bank-stock receipts and India-bonds before she is taken as a gift; a Bedouin girl, even en chemise, must be bought.

We passed a ruined village on the way, the name of which we could not learn. It was situate on a hill, and contained the remains of a fortress. On alighting, dibs and bread were served. Supper, on a large dish of rice as on the preceding day, coffee, and conversation concluded the evening. The wind was north, and, blowing through the crevices of the tent left us little benefit from the blazing fire in the middle. The Arabs, shivering from the unusual cold which prevailed, seemed to make no scruple of exhibiting those parts of the body which decency teaches us to conceal, and unceremoniously raised their garments to warm themselves.

In the morning the tents were struck, and the march was continued in a south-west direction for five hours. At the close of it, a flock of sheep belonging to the Beni-Khaled Arabs, whose tents were at no great distance, passed us. This was one of the tribes in subjection to Mahannah. Nasar, the son of the emir, ordered a Bedouin who was near him to seize a sheep. The man immediately launched his bludgeon at the poor animal,[31] and broke one of its hind-legs. Thus lamed, it was pricked on by the point of the lance, until, after about a quarter of an hour, we came to our encampment. It was killed and skinned in an instant, and a sparerib being cut off was thrown on the embers. It was turned occasionally with the hands, and, when half roasted, it was removed and placed on the bare ground, where, without bread or any single appurtenance of the table, each person tore off his portion and devoured it with canine greediness.[32]

We had now arrived within two leagues of the spring which the Bedouins were in search of. The village of Caryetayn was four miles off in a southerly direction. At daybreak on the 7th, the greater part of the camels were driven off to water, whilst a few, under the conduct of Nasar, Mezyad, and Hassan, sons of the emir, were sent to the village to get a supply of provisions; for the stock was now so low that nothing but dry bread had been served out, and there was not even water to make coffee. M. Lascaris accompanied Nasar, being desirous of seeing the village. At nightfall the camels arrived from the spring, but not those from the village. The day having, by me at least, been passed in fasting, I was now made sensible of the relish that hunger can give to fare however homely, and played my part on the hot bread-cakes at supper with an avidity little inferior to what I had remarked in the Bedouins.

At sunset there was a fall of snow, which continued all night, and, exposed as we were to the severity of the weather, rendered us very uncomfortable. The horses, as usual, were tethered in the open air, and suffered much from the cold.

Next morning, the snow covered the ground about six inches. We slept and warmed ourselves alternately through the day. The camels from Caryetayn had not yet returned; for, as the Bedouin has no other guide but landmarks,[33] when the atmosphere is obscured, he cannot travel. There was literally nothing to eat in the emir’s tent, and the kindness of one of his relations, named Casem, supplied me with a supper.

The unusual fall of snow argued the severity of the winter; for, in the Desert of Syria, it is an exceedingly rare thing to see snow at all. A Bedouin boy, nevertheless, ran, stark naked, in the open air through it.

On the 9th, the weather cleared up a little, and the wind changed to the East, with snow occasionally. We were absolutely without provisions, and Nasar and M. Lascaris were looked for by me with the utmost anxiety, whilst the Bedouins seemed as indifferent as men who had all the luxuries they could desire about them. At noon, Nasar and his party returned, but brought back little with them; the villagers having refused to produce any provisions unless for money; for Caryetayn is a populous village, and could brave the anger of the Arabs. A few raisins were all the addition that could be made to dry bread. Nasar, Mezyad, and Hassan, had each something new upon them, which they had procured from the inhabitants of Caryetayn, half by threats and half by presents.

On the 13th, the tents were struck, and in the evening they were replanted on the ground occupied on the 7th. Our horses had not drunk on the preceding day, and the whole care of myself and Hassan was to precede the tribe, in hopes of falling in with a puddle of water. But we were not fortunate enough to meet with one, and the poor animals would have again fasted, when, just as we halted for the night, a shower of rain fell, which we patiently endured with our backs turned to it, and, when it was over, galloped to an eminence about a mile off, upon which Hassan knew there was a hole in the rock where water generally lodged. We there slaked the thirst of the horses, and filled our water-bottles; but the water was so thick that a scullion-maid in England would have not thought it clean enough to wash her kitchen floor. However, necessity and delicacy are not akin, and we considered ourselves very fortunate.

It will be recollected that the ostensible purpose for which I had visited the Emir Mahannah was to cure him of a chronic complaint. The emir had now kept me eleven days, and had derived no great benefit from the remedies he had used: still, whenever mention was made of departing, he grew out of humour, and signified that he expected to be first cured; for an Arab has a firm idea that everything is possible to medicine. His sons tormented me in another shape. They would frequently tell me, half joking and half serious, that I was among a pack of robbers; that, as Franks visited Palmyra only to find treasures, I must not expect to get off without making them a present, with other expressions to the like effect. I was therefore somewhat alarmed, and began to be apprehensive for my safety; the more as the march had always been from, instead of towards, my destination. Resolved, however, to make a bold push, and anxious to visit Palmyra, I determined to be amused no longer with excuses, and, at all events, to steal off; so, imparting my design to Hassan, I desired him to hold himself in readiness. But he knew it would be more dangerous to offend his master, than to disoblige me, and told Mahannah what I had resolved on. Thus thwarted, it was necessary to try another scheme, and I represented to Mahannah that it would disoblige Lady Hester if I were any longer delayed in executing my mission to Palmyra. The fear of losing the presents which he expected from that quarter operated on his avarice, and I obtained permission to depart. M. Lascaris, during this my dilemma, had been of little service to me, fearing to embroil himself with Mahannah, whose friendship he was desirous of securing, in case of fixing his residence at Palmyra. He would not accompany me, as he had sent for his wife to join him, and he was obliged to wait for her before setting off. I therefore left him at the tents.

On the morning of the 14th, accompanied by Hassan only, I mounted my horse before six. We were furnished with two leather bottles of water and some raisins; and Hassan, as before, carried my carbine. For an hour, we proceeded north-east by east, until we crossed into the path of the salt caravans, which constantly trade between Palmyra, Hems, and Hamah. We then took an easterly direction. About ten, it began to rain.

About noon, as we were proceeding at a smart footpace, Hassan observed on the ground some fresh camels’ dung. This seemed to attract his attention; and presently other indications of the same kind rendered it evident that somebody was travelling in the same direction before us. Hassan occasionally preceded me a few paces to reconnoitre. In this way we rode on for about an hour. On a sudden, he pulled up his horse, and, following the direction of his eyes, I espied something like the heads of men. He made me observe them, and said, “Perhaps they are robbers—be ready for a gallop.” As we came nearer, we made out the supposed men to be two Bedouins and a camel partially concealed in a hollow. “Do as I do,” was all he said; and putting his gun as in a posture ready for defence, although the rain that had poured all the morning rendered it absolutely useless, he advanced until we came abreast of them; they being about thirty yards out of the path. He then challenged them, and observing their motions, cried, “Push on,” and immediately put his horse into a full gallop. I did the same. At that moment the camel rose upon his legs, with a man mounted on him, who pursued us, whilst the other robber levelled his gun at us, which, probably from the wet, snapped—for it did not go off. The mounted robber followed us about half a mile, when, finding that he lost ground, and that his companion was far behind, he slackened his pace, and at last turned back.

About one o’clock, we came to some sand-hills, at which time we were abreast of the White Mountain, (Gebel el Abyad) two leagues off, in a northerly direction. These sand-hills continued for a league or more. We here saw some camels grazing, guarded by a Bedouin. Hassan spoke to him, and learned that he was of the Beni Omar Arabs, a tribe in subjection to Mahannah. We dismounted, ate a few raisins, and deliberated about passing the night with them, their tents not being above a league off: but at last it was determined to go on for Palmyra. We then entered a vast plain called El Mezah, bounded on the left by the White Mountain, and, on the right, by Mount Ayán. Vast as it was, its extreme evenness deceived the eye, and contracted its boundaries to the appearance of a valley. It seemed as if we almost touched the foot of the mountain which overhangs Palmyra, and which Hassan pointed to. “We have not above a league and a half to go,” said I. “Inshallah,” was his reply, in the Arabian manner; “if it please God;” and, taught by experience how equivocal an expression this was, I made up my mind for a double distance. Hassan’s horse was nearly knocked up, and it was necessary to remove his wallet upon mine. The plain, for the first league, has some patches of turf, but afterwards presents a dry, cracked, barren surface, totally destitute of vegetation. It appears that the soil is impregnated with salt, as is the plain which I afterwards saw to the east of Palmyra. At sunset we reached its termination, and entered between two hills into a valley, where were to be seen the remains of a reservoir enclosing the fountain-head, from which water was once conveyed by an aqueduct to Palmyra. It is called Abu el Fawáres, and is mentioned by Wood and Dawkins, in their splendid work on the remains of Palmyra. This aqueduct runs for a league, and terminates in the Valley of Tombs, at which we soon arrived. This valley is shut in on both sides by low mountains.

The moon had now risen, and threw a gloomy solemnity over these ancient monuments of the dead, which continued for about a mile. As we approached the angle, where the vast mass of ruins (as I supposed) would burst on my sight, my bosom thrilled with expectation. We turned it, when, straining my eyes, I looked in vain for the grand objects which I had expected; for the straggling columns of the colonnade, sunk in a low disadvantageous spot, were hardly to be discerned. Other feelings, which hope had for a moment drowned, again took possession of me. I recollected that I had been twelve hours on horseback, that I was hungry and thirsty. Following my guide among huge masses of stone, and pillars and fragments of buildings, towards the Temple of the Sun, we came to the gate, which we found shut; nor was it opened until Hassan had made himself known. Then, turning down a dirty lane, we reached the mud cottage which was to be my residence at Palmyra.

The lintel of the cottage door was part of a sculptured entablature, and an elegant Corinthian capital, turned upside down, formed the horse-block. The cottage itself consisted of a small chamber, twenty feet by twelve. In it was Hassan’s wife, her father, four children, two camels, and a donkey. We received a friendly welcome, and found a warm fire, although the smoke, having no chimney to escape by, almost blinded me. I seated myself on the bare ground, and, whilst a cup of coffee was preparing, reflected on the miserable state of the present inhabitants of this once celebrated city. It was soon known that a Frank had arrived, and the house, in a few minutes, was crowded with people. A large mess of rice was put on the fire, and a message came from the shaykh of the village, to say that, if I stood in need of anything, what he could command was mine. I requested a little firewood (as Hassan’s wife had nothing but camels’ dung for fuel) and a rush mat to put under me. By degrees my curious visitors left me. I ate a good supper, and went to bed in my clothes, surrounded by the camels, my hostess, and the family, there being only a partition breast-high between us. In the night, hearing the door creak, I raised my head, and saw one of the girls, about twelve years old, stark naked, who, having occasion to breathe the fresh air, did not think it necessary to put on any of her clothes, which, according, I suppose, to Bedouin custom, she had stripped off at bed-time. This appeared to be matter of no surprise to anybody but myself: yet decency is one of the features of the female character in these countries.

CHAPTER V.

Reflections on the ruins of Palmyra—Wood and Dawkins’s plates—Fountain of Ephca—Castle—Tombs—Cottage selected for Lady Hester—Visit to a curious cave—Justinian’s wall—Climate and diseases—Salt marshes—Causes of fevers—Air and climate of Palmyra—Gardens, corn-fields, and trees—Sulphureous waters—Dress of the men; and of the women—Departure from Palmyra—Lady Hester sends Giorgio to look for the Author—Fall of snow—The party lose themselves, and sleep in the snow—Encampment of Beni Omar Bedouins—Hassan’s unfeeling conduct—Pride of the Bedouins to ride on horseback—Encampment of Ali Bussal—False notions of the hospitality of Bedouins—Partridges of the Desert—Emir of the Melhem—M. Lascaris’s scheme of traffic—Arrival of Madame Lascaris—Attack of the Sebáh—Wounded Bedouin—Giorgio goes to Palmyra—The Author returns to Hamah—Ruins of a triumphal arch—Snow-storm—A night in a cavern—Ruined village—Selamyah—Ruined mosque—Hardships endured by Bedouins—Miscellaneous observations on their character and manners.

I rose with the sun, and, eager to correct the unfavourable impression which the view of the ruins had made in the dusk of the evening, I begged of Hassan to reconduct me to them. I sat down, still, as before, deceived in my expectations. As far as my memory served me, I found the engravings of Wood and Dawkins faithful; and I began to consider how it happened that, correct as to delineation, they conveyed an idea of the remains of Palmyra so much more favourable than the reality. It has already been stated that the ground on which they stand is disadvantageous. Edifices require elevation to set them off; and perhaps it may have struck some travellers, that, of all the vestiges of antiquity to be seen throughout modern Turkey, the Parthenon at Athens, and the Temple of Theseus at Sunium, have the most imposing appearance, owing to their position, each on the summit of a hill. It is not so with Palmyra. Situate, on the contrary, at the foot of lofty mountains, whose height renders all the works of art diminutive, its columns, if seen at the distance of a few hundred yards, dwindle to the size of tapers. Indistinct from the neighbouring mountains, they are still more so from the colour of the stone of which they are made: for it is of a yellow ochrish appearance, and the face of the surrounding soil is precisely of the same hue. Tints must be opposed to set each other off; so that, for want of this contrast, these celebrated ruins, so conspicuous on paper, are scarcely visible where they stand. And although the two artists had a right to give them as high relief as they could, yet have they been guilty of that species of deception which exhibits objects under a false colouring, by representing them with an appearance of freshness to which they have long since lost their claim. Yet, when we reflect on the vastness of the materials which have been collected, as it were, in the midst of a desert, we are lost in astonishment. There are pillars of granite of a single block, which (say those who have made researches on these subjects their study) must have been transported from Upper Egypt. All the buildings were composed of stones of an enormous size; and there are ceilings yet remaining of a single slab. Fragments of pillars and their entablatures strew the ground, and are so numerous that we might imagine all the inhabitants to have lived in palaces. The building, called by travellers the Temple of the Sun, alone contains within its walls more than space enough for the present Palmyrenes.

Passing through the triumphal arch, which terminates the long colonnade under which I had seated myself, I slowly walked down it, and, inclining to the left, came, at the distance of about a mile, to the sulphureous spring, called the fountain of Ephca. There were formerly five springs at Palmyra; at present this alone remains of them all. A magnificent edifice might once have adorned its entrance; and the remains of an altar, as also the broken shaft of a pillar which lies close to it, lead to that supposition. But at this day the stream, which is about two feet and a half deep, issues from the mouth of a rough arched grotto, from five to six feet broad and four feet high;—a man must stoop to enter it. The banks of the channel near the grotto are above ten feet high, seeming to be elevated by the accumulation of rubbish; for, after the stream has run about thirty yards, they sink to a level with its water.

Although it was the month of January, I stripped off my clothes, and entered the grotto. It widens from the mouth, and, about five yards in, is lofty enough for a tall man to stand upright. The smell of sulphur is faint; the taste of it not perceptible. The heat of the water might be about 80° of Fahrenheit, communicating the least possible impression of cold on immersing the body into it. Advancing, the water deepens to more than the height of six feet, and the roof of the vault lowers; but there is no increase of heat. My conductor was forward in recounting all the properties of the water; the chief one was that of imparting an extraordinary appetite to those who drink of it; but there were in his enumeration none medicinal, if this be not of that class. I brought away with me two fragments of the roof; but, learning that they made the whole conversation of the village, and that it was believed I had the power of converting them into gold, I threw them away; for the extraordinary price which some rich travellers have incautiously paid for fragments of ancient sculpture, intaglios, and the like, has given rise to the supposition among the Arabs that Franks never would purchase so dearly mere stones, unless for the purpose of transmuting them into more valuable materials.

On the 16th, I visited the Saracen fortress to the west of the ruins. When it was known where I was gone, I was followed by about thirty or forty women and children, who pointed out the best path to me, and climbed up the pointed rocks with an activity that made me tremble for their safety. The castle is moated, and the bridge which formed the communication of the opposite sides being broken down, it required much pains to clamber up to one of the windows, the only entrance now practicable.—The chief advantage of toiling up the mountain on which it stands is to enjoy the fine view of the surrounding country. To the east are seen the ruins; beyond them the salt marshes; and beyond these a plain, bounded by the horizon, and to which fancy lent an immeasurable extent: to the north, on the same chain on which the castle stands, is Mount Ebn Ali—so called from a small chapel erected on its summit in memory of some Mahometan santon of that name: to the west is the valley of Abu El Fewáres, and to the south, the end of Mount Ayûn, a chain which runs almost to Damascus. Descending from the castle, I entered some of the tombs, which are described so accurately by Wood and Dawkins. I brought away from them some few pieces of embalming silk, which showed clearly to what a degree of perfection the manufacture of that article had reached in ancient times.