Early Travels in Palestine Part 38

_April 24._-This morning we took our leave of the worthy French consul, and the rest of our other friends of that nation, in order to go for Damascus.

Damascus lies near due east from Sidon. It is usually esteemed three days' journey distant, the road lying over the mountain Liba.n.u.s and Anti-Liba.n.u.s.

Having gone about half an hour through the olive yards of Sidon, we came to the foot of Mount Liba.n.u.s. In two hours and a half more we came to a small village called Caphar Milki. Thus far our ascent was easy; but now it began to grow more steep and difficult; in which having laboured one hour and one-third more, we then came to a fresh fountain called Ambus Lee, where we encamped for this night. Our whole stage was four hours and one-third; our course east.

_April 25._-The next day we continued ascending for three good hours, and then arrived at the highest ridge of the mountain, where the snow lay close to the road. We began immediately to descend again on the other side, and in two hours came to a small village called Meshgarah, where there gushes out at once from the side of the mountain a plentiful stream, which falling down into a valley below makes a fine brook, and, after a current of about two leagues, loses itself in a river called Letane.

At Meshgarah there is a caphar[624] demanded by the Druses, who are the possessors of these mountains. We were for a little while perplexed by the excessive demand made upon us by the caphar-men, but finding us obstinate they desisted.

Having gone one hour beyond Meshgarah, we got clear of the mountain, and entered into a valley called Bocat. This Bocat seems to be the same with Bicath Aven, mentioned in Amos i. 5, together with Eden and Damascus, for there is very near it, in Mount Liba.n.u.s, a place called Eden to this day. It might also have the name of Aven, that is, Vanity, given to it, from the idolatrous wors.h.i.+p of Baal, practised at Balbec, or Heliopolis, which is situate in this valley. The valley is about two hours over, and in length extends several days' journey, lying near north-east and south-west. It is inclosed on both sides with two parallel mountains, exactly resembling each other, the one that which we lately pa.s.sed over between this and Sidon, the other opposite against it, towards Damascus.

The former I take to be the true Liba.n.u.s, the latter Anti-Liba.n.u.s, which two mountains are nowhere so well distinguished as at this valley.

In the bottom of the valley there runs a large river called Letane. It rises about two days' journey northward, not far from Balbec, and, keeping its course all down the valley, falls at last into the river Casimir, or, as it is erroneously called, Eleutherus.

Thus far our course had been due east, but here we inclined some points towards the north. Crossing obliquely over the valley, we came in half an hour to a bridge over the river Letane. It consists of five stone arches, and is called Kor Aren, from a village at a little distance of the same name. At this bridge we crossed the river, and, having travelled about an hour and a half on its bank, pitched our tents there for this night. Our whole stage was eight hours.

_April 26._-The next morning we continued our oblique course over the valley Bocat. In an hour we pa.s.sed close by a small village called Jib Jeneen, and in three quarters of an hour more came to the foot of the mountain Anti-Liba.n.u.s. Here we had an easy ascent, and in half an hour pa.s.sed, on our right hand, by a village called Uzzi. In three quarters of an hour more we arrived at Ayta, a village of Christians of the Greek communion. At this last place the road began to grow very rocky and troublesome, in which having travelled an hour we arrived at a small rivulet called Ayn Tentloe. Here we entered into a narrow cleft between two rocky mountains, pa.s.sing through which we arrived in four hours at Dema.s.s, gently descending all the way. At Dema.s.s a small caphar[625] is demanded, which being despatched, we put forward again, but had not gone above an hour and a half when it grew dark, and we were forced to stop at a very inhospitable place, but the best we could find, affording no gra.s.s for our horses, nor any water, but just enough to breed frogs, by which we were serenaded all night.

_April 27._-Early the next morning we deserted this uncomfortable lodging, and in about an hour arrived at the river Barrady, our road still descending. This is the river that waters Damascus, and enriches it with all its plenty and pleasure. It is not so much as twenty yards over, but comes pouring down from the mountains with great rapidity, and with so vast a body of water, that it abundantly supplies all the thirsty gardens, and the city of Damascus.

We crossed Barrady at a new bridge over it called Dummar. On the other side our road ascended, and in half an hour brought us to the brink of a high precipice, at the bottom of which the river runs, the mountain being here cleft asunder to give it admission into the plain below.

At the highest part of the precipice is erected a small structure, like a sheikh's sepulchre, concerning which the Turks relate this story:-That their prophet, coming near Damascus, took his station at that place for some time, in order to view the city, and, considering the ravis.h.i.+ng beauty and delightfulness of it, he would not tempt his frailty by entering into it, but instantly departed, with this reflection upon it, that there was but one Paradise designed for man, and, for his part, he was resolved not to take his in this world.

You have, indeed, from the precipice, the most perfect prospect of Damascus. And certainly no place in the world can promise the beholder, at a distance, greater voluptuousness. It is situate in an even plain of so great extent, that you can but just discern the mountains that compa.s.s it on the farther side. It stands on the west side of the plain, at not above two miles' distance from the place where the river Barrady breaks out from between the mountains, its gardens extending almost to the very place.

The city itself is of a long straight figure, its ends pointing near north-east and south-west. It is very slender in the middle, but swells bigger at each end, especially at that to the north-east. In its length, as far as I could guess by my eye, it may extend near two miles. It is thick-set with mosques and steeples, the usual ornaments of the Turkish cities, and is encompa.s.sed with gardens extending no less, according to common estimation, than thirty miles round, which makes it look like a n.o.ble city in a vast wood. The gardens are thick-set with fruit-trees of all kinds, kept fresh and verdant by the waters of Barrady. You discover in them many turrets, and steeples, and summer-houses frequently peeping out from among the green boughs, which may be conceived to add no small advantage and beauty to the prospect. On the north side of this vast wood is a place called Solhees, where are the most beautiful summer-houses and gardens.

The greatest part of this pleasantness and fertility proceeds, as I said, from the waters of Barrady, which supply both the gardens and city in great abundance. This river, as soon as it issues out from between the cleft of the mountain before mentioned into the plain, is immediately divided into three streams, of which the middlemost and biggest runs directly to Damascus through a large open field called the Ager Damascenus, and is distributed to all the cisterns and fountains of the city. The other two, which I take to be the work of art, are drawn round, one to the right hand, and the other to the left, on the borders of the gardens, into which they are let as they pa.s.s by little currents, and so dispersed all over the vast wood, insomuch that there is not a garden but has a fine quick stream running through it, which serves not only for watering the place, but is also improved into fountains and other waterworks very delightful, though not contrived with that variety of exquisite art which is used in Christendom.

Barrady, being thus described, is almost wholly drunk up by the city and gardens. What small part of it escapes is united, as I was informed, in one channel again, on the south-east side of the city; and, after about three or four hours' course, finally loses itself in a bog there without ever arriving at the sea.

The Greeks, and, from them, the Romans, call this river Chrysorrhoas; but as for Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, mentioned in 2 Kings, v. 12, I could find no memory so much as of the names remaining. They must doubtless have been only two branches of the river Barrady; and one of them was probably the same stream that now runs through the Ager Damascenus, directly to the city, which seems, by its serpentine way, to be a natural channel. The other I know not well where to find; but it is no wonder, seeing they may and do turn and alter the courses of this river according to their own convenience and pleasure.

We continued a good while upon the precipice to take a view of the city; and indeed it is a hard matter to leave a station which presents you so charming a landscape. It exhibits the paradise below as a most fair and delectable place, and yet will hardly suffer you to stir away to go to it; thus at once inviting you to the city by the pleasure which it seems to promise, and detaining you from it by the beauty of the prospect.

Coming down the hill into the plain, we were there met by a janissary from the convent, sent to conduct us into the city. He did not think fit to carry us in at the west gate (which was nearest at hand), and so all across the city to the Latin convent where we were to lodge, for fear the Damascenes, who are a very bigoted and insolent race, should be offended at so great a number of Franks as we were; to avoid which danger he led us round about the gardens before we arrived at the gate.

The garden walls are of a very singular structure. They are built of great pieces of earth, made in the fas.h.i.+on of brick and hardened in the sun. In their dimensions they are each two yards long, and somewhat more than one broad, and half a yard thick. Two rows of these, placed edgewise one upon another, make a cheap, expeditious, and, in this dry country, a durable wall.

In pa.s.sing between the gardens we also observed their method of scouring the channels. They put a great bough of a tree in the water, and fasten to it a yoke of oxen. Upon the bough there sits a good weighty fellow, to press it down to the bottom and to drive the oxen. In this equipage the bough is dragged all along the channel, and serves at once both to cleanse the bottom, and also to mud and fatten the water for the greater benefit of the gardens.

Entering at the east gate, we went immediately to the convent, and were very courteously received by the guardian, father Raphael, a Majorkine by birth, and a person who, though he has dedicated himself to the contemplative life, yet is not unfit for any affairs of the active.

_April 28._-This morning we walked out to take a view of the city. The first place we went to visit was the house of an eminent Turk. The streets here are narrow, as is usual in hot countries, and the houses are all built, on the outside, of no better a material than either sun-burnt brick or Flemish wall, daubed over in as coa.r.s.e a manner as can be seen in the vilest cottages. From this dirty way of building they have this amongst other inconveniences, that upon any violent rain the whole city becomes, by the was.h.i.+ng of the houses, as it were a quagmire.

It may be wondered what should induce the people to build in this base manner when they have, in the adjacent mountains, such plenty of good stone for n.o.ble fabrics. I can give no reason for it, unless this may pa.s.s for such, that those who first planted here, finding so delicious a situation, were in haste to come to the enjoyment of it; and therefore nimbly set up those extemporary habitations, being unwilling to defer their pleasures so long as whilst they might erect more magnificent structures, which primitive example their successors have followed ever since.

But, however, in these mud walls you find the gates and doors adorned with marble portals, carved and inlaid with great beauty and variety. It is an object not a little surprising to see mud and marble, state and sordidness, so mingled together.

In the inside the houses discover a very different face from what you see without. Here you find generally a large square court, beautified with a variety of fragrant trees and marble fountains, and compa.s.sed round with splendid apartments and divans. The divans are floored and adorned on the sides with variety of marble, mixed in mosaic knots and mazes. The ceilings and traves are, after the Turkish manner, richly painted and gilded. They have generally artificial fountains springing up before them in marble basins; and, as for carpets and cus.h.i.+ons, are furnished out to the height of luxury. Of these divans they have generally several on all sides of the court, being placed at such different points that, at one or other of them, you may always have either the shade or the sun, which you please.

Such as I have described was the house we went to see; and I was told the rest resemble the same description.

In the next place we went to see the church of St. John the Baptist, now converted into a mosque, and held too sacred for Christians to enter, or almost to look into. However we had three short views of it, looking in at three several gates. Its gates are vastly large, and covered with bra.s.s, stamped all over with Arab characters, and in several places with the figure of a chalice, supposed to be the ancient ensigns or arms of the Mamelukes. On the north side of the church is a s.p.a.cious court, which I could not conjecture to be less than one hundred and fifty yards long and eighty or one hundred broad. The court is paved all over, and inclosed on the south side by the church, on the other three sides by a double cloister, supported by two rows of granite pillars of the Corinthian order, exceedingly lofty and beautiful.

On the south side the church joins to the bazaars; and there we had an opportunity just to peep into it. It is, within, s.p.a.cious and lofty, built with three aisles, between which are rows of polished pillars of surpa.s.sing beauty, unless, perhaps, we were tempted to overvalue what was so sparingly permitted to our survey.

In this church are kept the head of St. John, and some other relics esteemed so holy that it is death even for a Turk to presume to go into the room where they are kept. We are told here, by a Turk of good fas.h.i.+on, that Christ was to descend into this mosque at the day of judgment, as Mohammed was to do into that of Jerusalem; but the ground and reason of this tradition I could not learn.

From the church we went to the castle, which stands about two furlongs distant towards the west. It is a good building of the rustic manner. In length it is three hundred and forty paces, and in breadth somewhat less. We were admitted but just within the gate, where we saw store of ancient arms and armour, the spoils of the Christians in former times.

Amongst the artillery was an old Roman balista; but this was a place not long to be gazed upon by such as we were. At the east end of the castle there hangs down, in the middle of the wall, a short chain cut in stone, of what use I know not, unless to boast the skill of the artificer.

Leaving this place, we went to view the bazaars, which we found crowded with people, but dest.i.tute of any thing else worth observing.

_April 29._-Very early this morning we went to see the yearly great pomp of the hadgees setting out on their pilgrimage to Mecca[626], Ustan, pasha of Tripoli, being appointed their emir or conductor for this year. For our better security from the insolences of the over-zealous votaries, we hired a shop in one of the bazaars through which they were to pa.s.s.

In this famous cavalcade there came, first, forty-six dellees, that is religious madmen, carrying each a silk streamer, mixed either of red and green, or of yellow and green; after these came three troops of segmen, an order of soldiers amongst the Turks; and next to them some troops of saphees, another order of soldiery. These were followed by eight companies of Mugrubines (so the Turks call the Barbaroses) on foot.

These were fellows of a very formidable aspect, and were designed to be left in a garrison, maintained by the Turks somewhere in the desert of Arabia, and relieved every year with fresh men. In the midst of the Mugrubines there pa.s.sed six small pieces of ordnance. In the next place came, on foot, the soldiers of the castle of Damascus, fantastically armed with coats of mail, gauntlets, and other pieces of old armour.

These were followed by two troops of janissaries and their aga, all mounted. Next were brought the pasha's two horse tails, ushered by the aga of the court; and next after the tails followed six led horses, all of excellent shape and n.o.bly furnished. Over the saddle there was a girth upon each led horse, and a large silver target gilded with gold.

After these horses came the mahmal. This is a large pavilion of black silk, pitched upon the back of a very great camel, and spreading its curtains all round about the beast down to the ground. The pavilion is adorned at top with a gold ball, and with gold fringes round about. The camel that carries it wants not also his ornaments of large ropes of beads, fish-sh.e.l.ls, fox-tails, and other such fantastical finery, hanged upon his head, neck, and legs. All this is designed for the state of the Alcoran, which is placed with great reverence under the pavilion, where it rides in state both to and from Mecca. The Alcoran is accompanied with a rich new carpet, which the Grand Signor sends every year for the covering of Mohammed's tomb, having the old one brought back in return for it, which is esteemed of an inestimable value after having been so long next neighbour to the prophet's rotten bones. The beast which carries this sacred load has the privilege to be exempted from all other burdens ever after. After the mahmal came another troop, and with them the pasha himself; and, last of all, twenty loaded camels, with which the train ended, having been three quarters of an hour in pa.s.sing.

Having observed what we could of this show, which perhaps was never seen by Franks before, we went to view some other curiosities. The first place we came to was the Ager Damascenus, a long, beautiful meadow, just without the city on the west side. It is divided in the middle by that branch of the river Barrady which supplies the city, and is taken notice of because of a tradition current here that Adam was made of the earth of this field.

Adjoining the Ager Damascenus is a large hospital. It has within it a pleasant square court, inclosed on the south side by a stately mosque, and on its other sides by cloisters and lodgings of no contemptible structure.

Returning from hence homeward, we were shown, by the way, a very beautiful bagnio; and not far from it a coffee house capable of entertaining four or five hundred people, shaded over head with trees, and with mats when the boughs fail. It had two quarters for the reception of guests, one proper for the summer, the other for the winter. That designed for the summer was a small island, washed all round with a large, swift stream, and shaded over head with mats and trees. We found here a mult.i.tude of Turks upon the divans, regaling themselves in this pleasant place, there being nothing which they behold with so much delight as greens and water, to which, if a beautiful face be added, they have a proverb that all three together make a perfect antidote against melancholy.

In the afternoon we went to visit the house which, they say, was some time the house of Ananias, the restorer of sight to St. Paul[627]. The place shown for it is, according to the old rule, a small grotto or cellar, affording nothing remarkable but only that there are in it a Christian altar and a Turkish praying place, seated nearer to each other than well agrees with the nature of such places.

Our next walk was out of the east gate, in order to see the place (they say) of St. Paul's vision, and what else is observable on that side. The place of the vision is about half a mile distant from the city eastward.

It is close by the wayside, and has no building to distinguish it, nor do I believe it ever had; only there is a small rock or heap of gravel which serves to point out the place.

About two furlongs nearer the city is a small timber structure, resembling the cage of a country borough. Within it is an altar erected.

There, you are told, the holy apostle rested for some time in his way to this city after his vision[628].

Being returned to the city, we were shown the gate at which St. Paul was let down in a basket[629]. This gate is at present walled up by reason of its vicinity to the east gate, which renders it of little use.

Entering again into the city, we went to see the great patriarch residing in this city. He was a person of about forty years of age. The place of his residence was mean, and his person and converse promised not any thing extraordinary. He told me there were more than one thousand two hundred souls of the Greek communion in that city.

_April 30._-The next day we went to visit the gardens, and to spend a day there. The place where we disposed of ourselves was about a mile out of town. It afforded us a very pleasant summer-house, having a plentiful stream of water running through it. The garden was thick-set with fruit trees, but without any art or order. Such as this are all the gardens hereabouts; only with this odds, that some of them have their summer-houses more splendid than others, and their waters improved into greater variety of fountains. In visiting these gardens, Franks are obliged either to walk on foot, or else to ride upon a.s.ses, the insolence of the Turks not allowing them to mount on horseback. To serve them upon these occasions here are hackney a.s.ses always standing ready equipped for hire. When you are mounted, the master of the a.s.s follows his beast to the place where you are disposed to go, goading him up behind with a sharp-pointed stick, which makes him despatch his stage with great expedition. It is apt sometimes to give a little disgust to the generous traveller to be forced to submit to such marks of scorn; but there is no remedy; and, if the traveller will take my advice, his best way will be to mount his a.s.s contentedly and to turn the affront into a motive of recreation, as we did. Having spent the day in the garden, we returned in the evening to the convent.

_May 1._-The next day we spent at another garden, not far distant from the former, but far exceeding it in the beauty of its summer-house and the variety of its fountains.

_Sunday, May 2._-We went, as many of us as were disposed, to Sydonaiia, a Greek convent about four hours distant from Damascus to the northward, or north by east. The road, excepting only two steep ascents, is very good. In this stage we pa.s.sed by two villages, the first called Tall, the second Meneen. At a good distance on the right hand is a very high hill, reported to be the same on which Cain and Abel offered their sacrifices, and where also the former slew his brother, setting the first example of bloodshed to the world.

Sydonaiia is situated at the farther side of a large vale, on the top of a rock. The rock is cut with steps all up, without which it would be inaccessible. It is fenced all round at the top, with a strong wall, which incloses the convent. It is a place of very mean structure, and contains nothing in it extraordinary, but only the wine made here, which is indeed most excellent. This place was at first founded and endowed by the emperor Justinian. It is at present possessed by twenty Greek monks and forty nuns, who seem to live promiscuously together, without any order or separation.

Here are upon this rock, and within a little compa.s.s round about it, no less than sixteen churches and oratories, dedicated to several names.

The first, to St. John; second, to St. Paul; third, to St. Thomas; fourth, to St. Babylas; fifth, to St. Barbara; sixth, to St.