dtX^/OL^
Cornell
arV1474
The lands of the Saracen :
3 1924 031 244 332
olin,anx
The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.
There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.
http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 244332
f!— The Valley of Kiimbeh— A Land of Flowers — Turcoman Ilosj itality— The
Exiled Effendis— The Old Turcoman— A Glimpse of Aicadia— A Landscape— Inter,
ested Friendship— The Valley of the Pursek — Arrival at Klutahya . . • OT|
CHAPTER XXIII.
EICTAHTA, AND THE BUINS OF CEZANI.
Entrance into Kiutahya —The New Khan — An Unpleasant Discovery — Klutahya — The
Citadel— Panorama from the Walls — ^The Gorge of the Mountains — Oamp In a
Meadovr— The Valley of the Rhyndacns — Ohardar — The Ruins of (KzanI— The Acro-
polis and Temple — The Theatre and Stadium— Ride down the Valley- Camp at Daghj*
Kui
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE UTBIAN OLYMPUS.
Journey Down the Valley— The Plague of Grasshoppers— A Defile— The Town of TaU'
shania — The Camp of Famine — We leave the Rhyndacns — ^The Base of Olympus—
Primeval Forests — The Guard-House — Scenery of the Summit — Forests of Beech—
Saw-HiUa — Descent of the Mountain — "the View of Olympus — Morning — ^The Land of
Harvest — Aineghiol — A Showery Ride — The Plain of Bronsa — The Structure of Olym-
pna— We reach Brousa— The Tent Is Furled 800
CHAPTER XXV.
BBO0SA AND THB SEA OF MABHOBA.
riie city of Brousa— Rvturn to Civilization— Storm— The Kalputcha Ilammam— A Hoi
Bath— A Foretaste of Paradise— The Streets and Baiaars of Bronsa— The Mosque—
The Tombs of the Ottoman Sultans— Disappearance of the Katnrgees— We start foi
Moudanla— The Sea of Marmora— Moudania— Passport Difflcultiea— A Greek Caique
— Brealifast with the Fishermen— A Torrid Voyage— The Princes' Islands— Prlnklpo—
Distant View of Constantinople— We enter the Golden Horn . . . . Sli
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE NIOHT OF PREDESTINATION.
OoiiBtaaliiiople In RamaEan— The Origin of the Fast— Nightly niumlnattons— The Night
-
The Court of the Pish-pond— The Halls of the Alhambra— Character of the Archite&
ture— Uall cf tliu Abencerrages— Hall of the Two Sistera— The Moorish Dynastj ia
epala 4U
CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE BKIDLE-BOADS OP ANDALUSIA.
Change of Weathei^-Napoleon and his Horses— Departure from Granada— My Guide,
Josi Garcia- His Domestic Troubles— The Tragedy of the Umbrella— The Vow against
Aguardiente— Crossing the Vega — The Sierra Nevada— The Baths of Alhama— " Woe
Is Me, Alhama I"— The Valley of the River Velea— Velez Malaga— The Coast Road—
The Fisherman and his Donkey— Malaga— Summer Scenery— The Story of Don Pedro,
Ritbout Fear and without Care— The Field of Monda— A Lonely Venta . • 437
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE MOUNTAINS OF RONDA.
ttroDge Valleys — Climbing the Mountains — Jos6's Hospitality — El Burgo — The Gate of
the Wind— The Cliff and Cascades of Ronda— The Mountain Region— Traces of the
Moors — Haunts of Robbers — A Stormy Ride — The Inn at Gaucia — Bad Newd— A
Boyish Auxiliary— Descent from the Mountains— The Fcrd of the Ouadiaro~Ou>
Fears Relieved— The Cork Woods — Hide from 8an Roque to Gibraltar— Parting witli
Jos6— TrsveUlog in Bjuin— Ooaolunloii ....'•.. i8S
THE LANDS OF THE SARACEJSV
CHAPTER I.
LIFE IN A SYRIAN QUARANTINE.
oyage from Alexandria to Beyrout — Landing at Quarantine— The Guardiano — Oul
Quarters — Our Companions — Famine and Feasting — The Morning — The Holy Man of
Timbuctoo — Sunday in Quarantine — Xslamism— Wc are Registered — Love through a
Grating— Trumpets — The Mystery Explained — Delights of Quarantine — Oriental vs,
American Exaggeration — A Discussion of Politics — Our Release — Beyrout — Prepara-
tioDS for the Pilgrimage.
" The mountains loolc on Quarantine,
And Quarantine loolcs on the sea."
QnABAMTtXS HS.
In QtrARANTIME, BETAnUTf
Satm-da/tfj April 17, 1852.
4
Everybody has heard of Quarantine, but in onr favored coun-
try there are many untravelled persons who do not precisely
know what it is, and who no doubt wonder why it should be
such a bugbear to travellers in the Orient. I confess I am
still somewhat in the same predicament myself, although
I have already been twenty-four hours in Quarantine.
Rut, as a peculiarity of the place is, that one can do nothing,
however good a will he has, I propose to set down my expe-
riences each day, hoping that I and my readers may obtain
J 8 THE I;ANDa OF THE SAKACEN.
some insight into the nature of Quarantine, before the term of
my probation is over.
I left Alexandria on the afternoon of the 14th inst., in com
pany with Mr. Carter Harrison, a fellow-countryman, who had
joined me in Cairo, for the tour through Palestine. We had u
head wind and rough S'ja, xiuA I remained in a torpid
state daring most of the voyage. There was rain the second
night ; but, when the clouds cleared away yesterday morning,
we were gladdened by the sight of Lebanon, whose summits
glittered with streaks of snow. The lower slopes of the moun-
tains were green with fields and forests, and B^yrout, when
we ran up to it, seemed buried almost out of sight, in the foli-
age of its mulberry groves. The town is built along the
northern side of a peninsula, which projects about two miles
from the main line of the coast, forming a road for vessels. In
half an hour after our arrival, several large boats came along-
side, and we were told to get our baggage in order and
embark for Quarantine. The time uecessa,ry to purify a tra-
veller arriving from Egypt from suspicion of the plague, is five
dniys, but the days of arrival and departure are counted, so
that the durance amounts to but three full days. The captain
of the Osiris mustered the passengers together, and informed
them that each one would be obliged to pay six piastres for
the transportation of himself and his baggage Two heavy
lighters are now drawn up to the foot of the gangway, but as
soon as th6 first box tumbles into them, the men tumble out.
They attach the craft by cables to two smaller boats, iu
which they sit, to tow the infected loads. We are all sent
down together, Jews, Turks, and Christians — a confused pile
of men, women, children, and goods. A little boat from
LANDING AT QUARANTINE. 19
the city, in which there are representatives from the two
hotels, hovers around ns, and cards are thrown to us. The
zealous agents wish to supply us immediately with tablbs,
beds, and all other household appliances; but we decline their
help imtil we arrive at the mysterious spot. At last we float
off — two lighters full of infected, though respectable, material,
towed by oarsmen of most scurvy appearance, but free from
every suspicion of taint.
The sea is still rough, the sun is hot, and a fat Jewess
becomes searsick. An Italian Jew rails at the boatmen ahead,
in the Neapolitan patois, for the distance is long, the Quaran-
tine being on the land- side of Beyrout. We see the rows of
little yellow houses on the cliff, and with great apparent risk
- of being swept upon- the breakers, are tugged into a stoall cove,
where there is a landing-place. Nobody is there to receive us;
- the boatmen juKip into the water and push the Ifghters against
the stone stairs, while we unload our own baggage. A tin
cup filled with searwater is placed before us, and we each drop
six piastres into it — for money, strange as it may seem, is infec*
tious. By this time, the guardianos have had notice of our
aiTival, and we go up with them to choose our habitations
There are several rows of one-story houses overlooking the sea,
each containing two empty rooms, to be had for a hundred
piastres; but a square- two-story dwelling stands apart from
them, and the whole of it may be had for thrice that sum.
There are seven Frank prisonerfe, and we take it for ourselvea
But the rooms are bare, the kitchen empty, and we learn Ilia
iniportant fact, that Quarantine is durance vile, without even
the bread and water. The guardiano says the agents ot the
hotel are at the gate, and we can order from them whatevef
20 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEN.
'Ad want. Certainly; but at their own price, for we are wholly
at their mercy. However, we go down stairs, and the chief
officer, who accompanies us, gets into a corner as we pass, and
holds a stick before him to keep us off. He is now clean, but
if his garments brush against ours, he is lost. The people we
meet in the grounds step aside with great respect to let us pass,
but if we offer them our hands, no one would dare to touch a
finger's tip.
Here is the gate : a double screen of wire, with an interval
between, so that contact is impossible. There is a crowd of
individuals outside, aU anxious to execute commissions. Among
them is the agent of the hotel, who proposes to fill our bare
rooms with furniture, send us a servant and cook, and charge
us the same as if we lodged with him. The bargain is closed
at once, and he hurries off to make the arrangements. It is
now four o'clock, and the bracing air of the headland gives a
terrible appetite to those of us who, Ukc me, have been sea-
sick and fasting for forty-eight hours. But there is no food
within the Quarantine except a patch of green wheat, and a
well in the limestone rock. We two Americans join company
with our room-mate, an Alexandrian of Italian parentage, who
Las come to Beyrout to be married, and make the tour of our
territory. There is a path along the cliffs overhanging the sea,
with glorious views of Lebanon, up to his snowy top, the pine-
forests at his base, and the long cape whereon the city lies at
full length, reposing beside the waves. The Mahommedans
and Jews, in companies of ten (to save expense), are lodged
in the smaller dwellings, where they have already aroused mil-
lions of fleas from their state of torpid expectancy. Wa
r^rturn, and take a survey of our companions in the pavilion : ti
FAMINE AND FEASTING. Si
Fwnch woman, with two ugly and peevish children ^one at the
breast), in the next room, and three French gentlemen in the
other — a merchant, a young man with hair of extraordinary
length, and a filatewr, or silk-manufacturer, middle-aged and
cynical. The first is a gentleman in every sense of the word,
the latter endurable, but the young Absalom is my aversion.
I am subject to involuntary likings and dislikings, for which I
can give no reason, and though the man may be in every way
amiable, his presence is very distasteful to me.
We take a pipe of consolation, but it only whets our appe-
tites. We give up our promenade, for exercise is still worse ;
and at last the sun goes down, and yet no sign of dinner. Our
pavilion becomes a Tower of Famine, and the Italian recites
Dante. Finally a strange face appears at the door. By Api-
cius 1 it is a servant from the hotel, with iron bedsteads, camp-
tables, and some large chests, which breathe an odor of the
Commissary Department. We go stealthily down to the
kitchen, and watch the unpacking. Our dinner is there, sure
enough, but alas 1 it is not yet cooked. Patience is no more *
my companion manages to filch a raw onion and a crust ol
bread, which we share, and roll under our tongues as a sweet
morsel, and it gives us strength for another hour. The Greek
dragoman and cook, who are sent into Quarantine for our sakes,
take compassion on us ; the fires are kindled in the cold
furnaces ; savory steams creep up the stairs ; the preparations
increase, and finally climax in the rapturous announcement :
" Messieurs, dinner is ready." The soup is liquified bliss ; the
i^tzlettes d'agneav, are cotelettes de bonheur ; and as for that broad
dish of Syrian larks — Heaven forgive us the regret, that more
gongs had not been silenced for our sake I The meal is al'
22 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
nectar a;w] ambrosia, and now, filled and contented, we subsid|a
into sleep on comfortable couches. So closes the first day of
our incarceration.
This morning dawned clear and beautiful. Lebanon, except
his snowy crest, was wrapped in the early shadows, but the
Mediterranean gleamed like a shield of sapphire, and Beyrout,
sculptured against the background of its mulberry groves, was
glorified beyond all other cities. The turf around our pavilion
fairly blazed with the splendor of the yellow daisies and crim-
son poppies that stud it. I was satisfied with what I saw, and
felt no wish to leave Quarantine to-day. Our Italian friend,
however, is more impatient. His betrothed came early to see
him, and we were edified by the great alacrity with which he
hastened to the grate, to renew his vows at two yards' distance
from her. In the meantime, I went down to the Turkish
houses, to cultivate the acquaintance of a singular character I
met on board the steamer. He is a negro of six feet four,
dressed in a long scarlet robe. His name is Mahommed
Senoosee, and he is a fakeer, or holy man, from Timbuctoo.
He has beaten two years absent from home, on a pilgrimage to
Mecca and Medina, and is now on his way to Jerusalem and
Damascus. He has travelled extensively in all parts of Cen-
tral Africa, from Dar-Fur to Ashantee, and professes to be on
good terms with the Sultans of Honssa and Bornou. He has
even been in the great kingdom of Waday, which has never
been explored by Europeans, and as far south as lola, the capi-
tal of Adamowa. Of the correctness of his narrations I have
not the least doubt, as they correspond geographically with all
that we know of the interior of Africa. In answer to my
question whether a European might safely make the same tour,
SUNDAY IN QUARANTINE. 2S
lis replied that there would be no difficulty, provided ne wiia
accompanied by a native, and Ije offered to take me even to
Timbuctoo, if I would return with him. He was very curious
to obtain information about America, and made notes of alj
that I told him,; in the quaint character used by the Mughreb-
bins, or Arabs of the West, which has considerable resem-
blance to the ancient Cufic. He wishes to join company with
me for the journey to Jerusalem, and perhaps I shall accept
him.
Simday, April IS. ^
As Quarantine is a sort of limbo, without the pale of civi-
lized society, we have no church service to-day. We have
done the best we could, however, in sending one of the outside
dragomen to purchase a Bible, in which we succeeded. He
brought us a very handsome copy, printed by the American
Bible Society in New York. I tried vainly in Cairo and Alex-
andria to find a missionary who would supply my heathenish
destitution of the Sacred Writings;, for I had reached the East
through Austria, where they are prohibited, and to travel
through Palestine without them, would be like sailjng without
pilot or compass. It gives a most impressive reality to Solo-
mon's " house of the forest of Lebanon," when you can look up
from the page to those veryforests and those grand mountains^
" expellent with the cedars." Seeing the holy man of Timbuc-
too praying with his face towards Mecca, I went down to him,
anri vire conversed for a long time on religious matters. He is
tolerably well infprtjjed, haying read the Books of Moses and
the Psalms of David, but, like all Mahommedans, his ideas of
reliwibp consist mainly of forins, , and. its reward is a sensual
paradise. , The more intelligent of the Moslems give a spiritual
84 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEN.
interpretation to the nature of the Heaven promised by the
Prophet, and I have heard several openly confess their disbe-
lief in the seventy houries and the palaces of pearl and emerald
Shekh Mahommed Senoosee scarcely ever utters a sentence in
which is not the word "Allah," and "La illah iP Allah" is
repeated at least every five minutes. Those of his class consi-
der that there is a peculiar merit in the repetition of the names
and attributes of God. They utterly reject the doctrine of the
Trinity, which they believe implies a sort of partnership, or
God-firm (to use their own words), and declare that all who
accept it are hopelessly damned. To deny Mahomet's prophet-
ship would excile a violent antagonism, and I content myself
with making them acknowledge tbat God is greater than all
Prophets or Apostles, and that there is but one God for all the
human race. I have never yet encountered that bitter spirit
of bigotry which is so frequently ascribed to them; but on the
contrary, fully as great a tolerance as they would find exhibited
towards them by most of the Christian sects.
This morning a paper was sent to us, on which we werp
requested to write our names, ages, professions, and places of
nativity. "We conjectured that we were subjected to the sus-
picion of political as well as physical taint, but happily this was
not the case. I registered myself as a voyagmr, the French as
iiegocians, and when it came to the woman's turn, Absalom,
who is a partisan of female progress, wished to give her the
same profession as her husband — a machinist. But she
declared that her only profession was that of a " married
woman," and she was so inscribed. Her peevish boy rejoiced
in the title of " pUnmcheur," or "weeper," and the infant as
" titeuse," or " sucker." While this was going on, the guardi-
TRCMPETS. 26
ano of our room came in very mysteriously, and beckoned to fiay
companion, saying that " Mademoiselle was at the gate." But
it was the Italian who was wanted, and again, from the little
window of our pavilion, we watched his hurried progress over
the lawn. No sooner had she departed, than he took his pocket
telescope, slowly sweeping the. circuit of the bay as she drew
nearer and nearer Beyrout. He has succeeded in distinguish-
ing, among the mass of buildings, the top of the house in which
she lives, but alasl it is one story too low, and his patient
espial has only been rewarded by the sight Of' some cats
promenading on the roof.
I have succeeded in obtaining some further particulars in
relation to Quarantine. On the night of our arrival, as we
were about getting into our beds, a sudden and horrible gush
of brimstone vapor came up stairs, and we all fell to coughing
like patients in a pulmonary hospital. The odor increased till
we were obliged to open the windows and sit beside them in-
order to breathe comfortably. This was the preparatory fumi-
gation, in order to remove the ranker seeds of plague, after-
which the milder symptoms will of themselves vanish in the.
pure air of the place. Several times a 'day we are stunned
and overwhelmed with the cracked brays of three discordant
trumpets, as grating and doleful as the last gasps of a dying
donkey. At first I supposed the object of this was to give a
greater agitation to the air, and separate and shake down the
noxious exhalations we emit ; bat since I was informed that the
soldiers outside would shoot ns in case we attempted to escape,
1 have concluded that the sound is meant to alarm ns, and pre-
rent our approaching too near the walls. On inquiring of our
gaardiano whether the wheat growing within the grounds waa
a
86 the" lands of the saracen.
sabject to Quarantine, he informed me that it did not ccovey
infection, and that three old geese, who walked out past the
gviard with impunity, were free to go a,nd come, as they had'
never been known to have the plague. Yesterday evening the
medical attendant, a Polish phytician, came in to inspect us,
but he made a very hasty review, looking down on us fifom the
top of a high horse.
Monday, Jprll Id.
Eureka ! the whole thing is explained. Talking to day with
the guardiano, he happened to mention that he had been three
years in Quarantine, keeping watch over infected travellers.
"What I" said I, "you have been sick three years." "Oh
no," he replied ; " I have never been sick at all." " But are
not people sick in Quarantine ?" " Stafferillah .'" he exclaimed ;
' they are always in better health than the people outside."
" What is Quarantine for, then ?" I persisted. " What is it for ?"
he repeated, with a pause of blank amazement at my ignorance,.
" why, to get money from the travellers 1" Indiscreet guar-
diano ! It were better to suppose ourselves under suspicion of
the plague, than to have such an explanation of the mystery.
Yet, in spite of the unpalatable knowledge, I almost regret
that this is our last day in the establishment. The air is so
pure and bracing, the views from our windows so magnificent,
the colonized branch of the Beyrout Hotel so comfortable,
that I am content to enjoy this pleasant idleness — the more
pleasant since, being involuntary, it is no weight on the con-
science. I look up to the Maronitc villages, perched on the
slopes of Lebanon, with scarce a wish to climb to them, or
Inming to the sparkling Mediterranean, view
ORIENTAL EXAGGEEATION. 21
"The speroaaia's sail of saowy hue
Whitening and brightenmg oa that field of blue,"
and have none of that unrest which the sight of a vessel in
motion suggests.
To-day my friend from Timbuctoo came up to have another
talk. He was curious to know the object of my travels, and
as he would not have comprehended the exact truth, I was
obliged to convey it to him through the medium of fiction. I
informed him that I had been dispatched by the Sultan of my
country to obtain information of the countries of Africa; that
I wrote in a book accounts of everything I saw, and on my
return, would present this book to the Sultan, who would re-
ward me with a high rank — perhaps even that of Grand Vizier.
The Orientals deal largely in hyperbole, and scatter numbers
and values with the most reckless profusion. The Arabic, like
the Hebrew, its sister tongue, and other old original tongues
of Man, is a language of roots, and abounds with the boldest
metaphors. Now, exaggeration is but the imperfect form of
metaphor. The expression is always a splendid amplification of-
the simple fact. Like skilful archers, in order to hit the mark,
they aim above it. When you have once learned his standard'
of truth, you can readily gauge an Arab's expressions, and
regulate your own accordingly. But whenever I have attempted
to strike the key-note myself, I generally found that it waa
below, rather than above, the Oriental pitch.
The Shekh had already informed me that the King of Ashan-
tee, whom he had visited, possessed twenty-four houses full of
gold, and that the Sultan of Honssa had seventy thousand
Vorses always standing saddled before his palace, in order that
be might take his choice, when he wished to ride out. By this
28 THE LANDS OF THE SARiCEN.
he did not mean that the facts were precisely so, but dnly that
the King was Very rich, and the Sultan bad a great many
horses. In order to give the Shekh an idea of the great wealth,
and power of the American Nation, I was obliged to adopt the
same p"an. I told him, therefore, that our country was two
years' journey in extent, that the Treasury consisted of four
thousand houses tiled to the roof with gold, and that two hun-
dred thousand soldiers on horseback kept continual guard
around Sultan Fillmore's palace. He received these tremendous
statements with the utmost serenity and satisfaction, carefully,
writing them ia his book, together with the name of Sultan
Fillmore, whose fame has ere this reached the remote regions;
of Timbuctoo The Shekh, moreover, had the desire of visiting
England, 'and wished me to give him a letter to the English
Sultan. This rather exceeded my powers, bnt I wrote a simple:
certificate explaining who he was, and whence he came, which
I sealed with an immense display of wax, and gave him. Ii .
return, he wrote his name in my book, in the Mughrebbin char-
acter, adding the sentence : " There is no God but God."
This evening the forbidden subject of politics crept into our
quiet community, and the result was an explosive contention
which drowned even the braying of the agonizing trumpets out-
side. The gentlemanly Frenchman is a sensible and consistent
republican, the old filaUiir a violent monarchist, while Absa-
lom, as I might have foreseen, is a Red, of the schools of Proud-
hoti and Considerant. The first predicted a Republic :iu
France, the second a Monarchy in America, and the last was
in favor of a general and total demolition of all existing sya
terns. Of course, with such elements, anything like a serious
discussion was impossible ; and, as in most French debates, M
9BAG0MEN iil
«uded in a bewildering confusion of cries and gesticulations.
In the midst of it, I was struck by the cordiality with which
the Monarchist and the Socialist united in their denunciationg
of England and the English laws. As they sat side by side,
pouring out anathemas against "perfide Albion," I could not
help exclaiming: " Voi^d, comme les extremes se rencontreiU !"
This turned the whole current of their wrath against me, and
I was glad to make a hasty retreat.
The physician again visited us to-night, to promise a release
to-morrow morning. He looked us all in the faces, to be cer-
tain that there were no signs of pestilence, and politely regret-
ted that he could not offer us his hand. The husband of the
" married woman'' also came, and relieved the other gentlemen
from the charge of the " weeper." He was a stout, ruddy
Provencal, in a white blouse, and I commiserated him sincerely
for having such a disagreeable wife.
To-day, being the last of our imprisonment, we have received
many tokens of attention from dragomen, who have sent their
papers through the grate to us, to be returned to-morrow after
onr liberation. They are not very prepossessing specimens of
their class, with the exception of Yusef Badra, who brings a
recommendation from my friend, Ross Browne. Yusef is a
.handsome, dashing fellow, with something of the dandy in his
dress and air, but he has a fine, clear, sparkling eye, with just
enough of the devil in It to make him attractive. I think, how-
ever, that the Greek dragoman, who has been our companion
in Quarantine, wDl carry the day. He is by birth a Boeotian,
.but now a citizen of Athens, and calls himself Frangois Vitalis
He speaks French, German, and Italian, besides Arabic and
Turkish, and as he has been for twelve or fifteen years vibrat
so THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
ing between Europe and the East, he must by this time havr
amassed sufficient experience to answer the needs of rough-and-
tumble travellers like ourselves. He has not asked us for the
place, which displays so much penetration on his part, that we
shall end by offering it to him. Perhaps he is content to rest
his claims upon the memory of our first Quarantine dinner. If
so, the odors of the cutlets and larks — even of the raw oni6n,
which we remember with tears — shall not plead his cause in
vain.
Bftrout (out of Quarantine), Wedjiesday^ Afay 21.
The handsome Greek, Diamanti, one of the proprietors of
the " Hotel de Belle Vue," was on hand bright and early yes-
terday morning, to welcome us out of Quarantine. The gates
were thrown wide, and forth we issued between two files of
soldiers, rejoicing in our purification. "We walked through mul-
berry orchards to the town, and through its steep and crooked
streets to the hotel, which stands beyond, near the extremity
of the Cape, or Ras Beyrout. The town is small, but has an
active population, and a larger commerce than any other port
in Syria. The anchorage, however, is an open road, and in
stormy weather it is impossible for a boat to land. There are
two picturesque old castles on some rocks near the shore, but
they were almost destroyed by the English bombardment iu
1841. I noticed two or three granite columns, now used as
the lintels of some of the arched ways in the streets, and other
fragments of old masonry, the only remains of the ancien
Berytns.
Our time, since our release, has been occupied by prepara-
tions for the jonrney to Jerusalem. We have taken Frangois
as dragoman, and our mukkairee, or muleteers, are engaged to
PBEPARATIONS FOR DEPARTORK. 31
be in readiness to-morrow morning. I learn that the Uruses
are in revolt in Djebel Hauaran and parts of the Anti-Lebanon,
wliich will prevent my forming any settled plan for the tour
through Palestine and Syria. Up to this time, the country has
been considered quite safe, the only robbery this winter having
been that of the party of Mr. Degen, of New York, which was
plundered near Tiberias. Dr. Robinson left here two weeks
ago for Jerusalem, in company with Dr. Eli Smith, of the
American MiHSion at this place.
3 J t HE LANIIS 0¥ TBB SAK4CEH.
DH APTER II.
Ta» <;oAST or rALEariXK.
Oip Pilgrimage Comnien««4 — The Maletecra — The Mules — The Dinkey— Journey to
Sidon — The Foot of LebatraH — PictDres — The Rnina of Tjre — A Wild Morning— Ihe
Tyrian Surges — Climbing ^ e Ladder of Tyre — Panorama of the Bay of Acre — The
Plain of Esdraelon — Gamp . v * Garden — Acre — the Shore of the Bay — Haifa — Mount
Carmel and ttg Monastery — < Ireserted Coast — The Knins of Caesarea — The Scenery
of Palestine — We become Rc>--t ^rs — El Haram — Wrecks — the Harbor and Town oi
Jaffa.
** Along the line of foam, the jevelled chain,
The largessfc of the ever-giving main."
R. H. SroDDiKO.
Rahlih, April 27, 1352.
We left Beyrout on the morning of the 22d, Our caravan
consisted of three horses, three males, and a donkey, in charge
of two men — Dervish, an erect, black-bearded, and most
impassive Mussulman, and Mustapha, who is the very picture
of patience and good-nature. He was born with a smile on
his face, and has never been able to change the expression.
They are both masters of their art, and can load a mnle with a
speed and skill which I would defy any Santa Pe trader to
excel. The animals are not less interesting than their masters.
Our horses, to be sure, are slow, plodding beasts, with consi-
derable endurance, but little spirit ; but the two baggage
mules deserve gold medals from the Society for the Promotion
THE MULES. 33
M iDdustry. I can overlook any amount of waywarrtnesg
in the creatures, in consideration of the steady, persevering
energy, the cheerfulness and even enthusiasm with which they
perform their duties. They seem to be conscious that they art
doing well, and to take a delight in the consciousness. Out
of them has a band of white shells around his neck, fastened
with a tassel and two large blue beads ; and yon ueed but look
at hira to see that he is aware how becoming it is. He tliinka
it was given to him for good conduct, and is doing his best to
merit another. The little donkey is a still more original
animal. He is a practical humorist, full of perverse tricks,
but all intended for effect, and without a particle of malice.
He generally walks behind, running off to one side or the
other to crop a mouthful of grass, but no sooner does Dervish
attempt to mount him, than he sets off at full gallop, aud
takes the lead of the caravan. After having performed one
of his feats, he turns around with a droll glance at us, as much
as to say : " Did you see that ?" If we had not been present,
most assuredly he would never have done it.^ I can imagine
him, after his return to Beyrout, relating his adventures to a
company of fellow-donkeys, who every now and then burst into
tremendous brays at some of his irresistible dry sayings.
I persuaded Mr. Harrison to adopt the Oriental costume,
which, from five months' wear in Africa, I greatly preferred to
the Frank. We therefore rode out of Beyrout as a pair
of Syrian Beys, while Frangois, with his belt, sabre, and pistols,
had mmh the aspect of a Greek brigand. The road crosses the
hill behind the city, between the Forest of Pines and a long
tract of red sand-hills next the sea. It was a lovely morning,
not too bright and hot, for light, fleecy vapors hung along thn
2*
34 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
sides of Iiebanon. Beyond the mulberry orchards, we entered
on wild, half-cultivated tracts, covered with a bewildering maze
of blossoms. The hill-side and stony shelves of soil overhang-
ing the sea fairly blazed with the brilliant dots of color which
W3re rained upon them. The pink, the broom, the poppy, the
speedwell, the lupin, that beautiful variety of the cyclamen,
called by the Syrians " dedc e-djebel " (cock o' the mountain),
and a number of unknown plants dazzled the eye with their
profusion, and loaded the air with fragrance as rare as it was
unfailing. Here and there, clear, swift rivulets came down
from Lebanon, coursing their way between thickets of bloom-
ing oleanders. Just before crossing the little river Damoor,
Francois pointed out, on one of the distant heights, the resi-
dence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope. During the after-
noon we crossed several offshoots of the Lebanon, by paths
incredibly steep and stony, and towards evening reached Saida,
the ancient Sidon, where we obtained permission to pitch our
tent in a garden. The town is built on a narrow point of land,
jutting out from the centre of a bay, or curve in the coast, and
contains about five thousand inhabitants. It is a quiet, sleepy
sort of a place, and contains nothing of the old Sidon except a
few stones and the fragments of a mole, extending into the sea,
The fortress in the water, and the Citadel, are remnants of
Venitian sway. The clouds gathered after nightfall, and
occasionally there was a dash of rain on our tent. But I heard
it with the same quiet happiness, as when, in boyhood, sleep-
ing beneatl the rafters, I have heard the rain beating all night
upon the roof. I breathed the sweet breath of the grasses
whereon my carptt was spread, and old Mother Earth, wel-
ooming me back to hor bosom, cradled me into (salm and
THE FOOT OF LEBANON 3ij
refreshiog sleep. There is no rest more grateful than that
which we take on the turf or the sand, except the rest below
it.
We rose in a dark and cloudy morning, and continued oui
way between fields of barley, completely stained with the
bloody hue of the poppy, and meadows turned into golden
mosaic by a brilliant yellow daisy. Until noon our road was
over a region of alternate meadow land and gentle though stony
elevations, making out from Lebanon. We met continually
with indications of ancient power and prosperity. Tlie ground
was strewn with hewn blocks, and the foundations of buildings
remain in many places. Broken sarcophagi lie half-buried in
grass, and the gray rocks of the hills are pierced with tombs.
The soil, though stony, appeared to -be naturallv fertile, and
the crops of wheat, barley, and lentils were vei/ flourishing.
After rounding the promontory which forms the southern boun-
dary of the Gulf of Sidon, we rode for an hour or two over a
plain near the sea, and then came down to a valley which ran
up among the hills, terminating in a natural amphitheatre. An
ancient barrow, or tumulus, nobody knows of whom, stands
near the sea. During the day I noticed two charming little
pictures. One, a fountain gushing into a broad square basin
of masonry, shaded by three branching cypresses. Two Turks
sat on its edge, eating their bread and curdled milk, while
their horses drank out of the stone trough below. The other,
an old Mahommedan, with a green turban and white robe,
seated at the foot of a majestic sycamore, over the high bank
3f a stream that tumbled down its bed of white marble rock to
the sea.
The plain back of the narrow, sandy promontory on which
36 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEK.
the modern Soor is built, is a rich black loam, wbich a little
proper culture would turn into a very garden. It helped me
to account for the wealth of ancient Tyre. The approach to
the town, along a beach on which the surf broke with a con-
tinuous roar, with the wreck of a Greek vessel in thu fore-
ground, and a stormy sky behind, was very striking. It wag
a wildj bleak picture, the white mjnarets of the town standing
out spectrally against the clouds. We rode jip the sand-hills,
back of the town, and selected a good ?amping-place among
the ruins of Tyre. Near us there was an ancient square build-
ing, now used as a cistern, and filled with excellent fresh water.
The surf roared tremendously on the rocks, on either hand,
and the boom of the more distant breakers came to my ear
like the wind in a pine forest. The remains of the ancient sea-
wall are still to be traced for the entire circuit of the city, and
the heavy surf breaks upon piles of shattered granite columns.
Along a sort of mole, protecting an inner harbor on the north
side, are great numbers of these columns. I counted fifteen
in one group, some of them fine red granite, and some of the
marble of Lebanon. The remains of the pharos and the for-
tresses strengthening the sea-wall, were pointed out by the
Syrian who accompanied us as a guide, but his faith was a
little stronger than mine. He even showed us the ruins of the
jetty built by Alexander, by means of which the ancient cityj
then insulated by the sea, was taken. The remains of the cause-
way gradually formed the promontorj by which the place is
now connected with the main land. These are the principal
mdicationS of Tyre above ground, but the guide informed ua
that the Arabs, in digging among the sand-hills for tha stones
fflf the old buildings, which they quarry out and sbipto Bfy^
THE T7BIAN SURGES. S.t
p.rat, como upon chainberai pillars^ arches, and other objects.
The Tyrian purple t still furnished by a muscle found upon the
coast, but Tyre is now only noted for its tobacco and mill-
stones. ■ I saw many of the latter lying in the streets of the
town, and an Arab was selling a quantity at auction in the
square, as we passed. They are cut out from a species of dark
Tolcanic rock, by the Bedouins of the mountains. There were
naif a dozen small coasting vessels lying in the rOad, but the
old harbors are entirely destroyed. Isaiah's prophecy is liter
ally fulfilled : " Howl, ye ships of Tarshish ; for it is laid waste,
so that there is no house, no entering in."
On returning from our ramble we passed the house of the
Gorernor, Daood Agha, who was dispensing justice in regard
to a lawsuit then before him. He asked us to stop and take
coffee, and received us with much grace and dignity. As we
rose to leave, a slave brought me a large bunch of choice flOwera
from his garden.
We set out from Tyre at an early hour, and rode along tht
beach around the head of the bay to the Ras-el-Abiad, tbs
ancient Promontorium Album. The morning was wild and
cloudy, with gleams of sunshine that flashed out over the dark
violet gloom of the sea. The surf was magnificent, rolling up
iu grand billows, which broke and formed again, till the last
of the long, falling fringes of snow slid seething up the sand,
Something of ancient power was in their shock and roar, and
every great wave that plunged and drew back again, called iu
its solemn bass ; " Where are the ships of Tyre ? where are
the ships of Tyre?" I looked back on the city, which stoo(J
advanced far into the sea, her feet bathed in thunderous spray.
By and by the clovds deared away, the sun came out bold and
S8 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
bright, aud our road left the beach for a meadowy plain,
crossed by fresh streams, and sown with an inexhaustible wealth
of flowers. Through thickets of myrtle and mastic, around
which the rue and lavender grew in dense clusters, we reached
the foot of the mountain, and began ascending the celebrated
Ladder of Tyre. The road is so steep as to resemble a stai^
ease, and climbs along the side of the promontory, liangiog
over precipices of naked white rock, in some places three hun-
dred feet in height. The mountain is a mass of magnesian
limestone, with occasional beds of marble. The surf has worn
its foot into hollow caverns, into which the sea rushes with a
dull, heavy boom, like distant thunder. The sides are covered
with thickets of broom, myrtle, arbutus, ilex, mastic and laurel,
overgrown with woodbine, and interspersed with patches of
sage, lavender, hyssop, wild thyme, and rue. The whole moun-
tain is a heap of balm ; a bundle of sweet spices.
Our horses' hoofs clattered up and down the rounds of the
ladder, and we looked our last on Tyre, fading away behind
the white hem of the breakers, as we turned the point of the
promontory. Another cove of the mountain-coast followed,
terminated by the Cape of Nakhura, the northern point of the
Bay of Acre. We rode along a stony way between fields of
wheat and barley, blotted almost out of sight by showers of
scarlet poppies and yellow chrysanthemums. There were fre-
quent ruins : fragments of sarcophagi, foundations of houses,
and about half way between the two capes, the mounds of
Alexandro-Schoenae. We stopped at a khan, and breakfasted
nsder a magnificent olive tree, while two boys tended our
jorses to see that they ate only the edges of the wheat field.
'Below the house were two large cypresses, and on a littk
PANORAMA or THE BAY OF ACRE. 39
longiie of land the ruins of one of those square towers of Ihe
corsairs, which line all this coast. The intense blue of the
sea, seen close at hand over a broad field of goldening wheat,
formed a dazzling and superb contrast of color. Early in the
afternoon we climbed the Ras Nakhura, not so bold and grand,
though quite as flowery a steep as the Promontorium Album.
We had been jogging half an hour over its uneven summit,
when the side suddenly fell away below us, and we saw the
whole of the great gulf and plain of Acre, backed by the long
ridge of Mount Carmel. Behind the sea, which makes a deep
indentation in the line of the coast, extended the plain;
bounded on the east, at two leagues' distance, by a range of
hills covered with luxuriant olive groves, and still higher, by
the distant mountains of Galilee. The fortifications of Acre
were visible on a slight promontory near the middle of the
Gulf From our feet the line of foamy surf extended for
miles along the red sand-beach, till it finally became like a
chalk-mark on the edge of the field of blue.
We rode down the mountain and continued our journey over
the plain of Esdraelon — a picture of summer luxuriance and
bloom. The waves of wheat and barley rolled away from our
path to the distant olive orchards ; here the water gushed
from a stone fountain and flowed into a turf-girdled pool,
around which the Syrian women were washing their garments ;
there, a garden of orange, lemon, fig, and pomegranate tree?
in blossom, was a spring of sweet odors, which overflowed the
whole land. We rode into some of these forests, for they were
no less, and finally pitched our tent in one of them, belonging
to the palace of the former Abdallah Pasha, within a mile of
^cre. The old Saracen aqueduct, which still conveys water to
40 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
the town, overhung our tent. For an hour before reaching oui
destination, we had seen it on the left, crossing the hollows on
light stone arches. In one place I counted fifty-eight, and in
another one hundred and three of these ai ches, some of which
were fifty feet high. Our camp was a charming place : a nest
of deep herbage, under two enormous fig-trees, and surrounded
by a balmy grove of orange and citron. It was doubly beau-
tiful when the long line of the aqueduct was lit up by the moon,
and the orange trees became mounds of ambrosial darkness.
In the morning we rode to Acre, the fortifications of which
have been restored on the land-side. A ponderous double gate
Way of stone admitted us into the city, through what was once,
apparently, the court-yard of a fortress. The streets of the
town are narrow, terribly rough, and very dirty, but the
bazaars are extensive and well stocked. The principal mosque,
whose heavy dome is visible at some distance from the city, is
surrounded with a garden, enclosed by a pillared corridor^
paved with marble. All the houses of the city are built in the
most massivfe style, of hard gray limestone or marble, and this
circumstance alone prevented their complete destruction during
the English bombardment in 1841. The marks of the shells
are everywhere seen, and the upper parts of the lofty buildings
are completely riddled with cannon-balls, some of which
remain embedded in the stone. We made a rapid tour of the
town on horseback, followed by the curious glances of the
people, who were in doubt whether to consider us Turks or
Franks. There were a dozen vessels in the harbor, .which is
considered the best in Syria.
The baggage-mules had gone on, so we galloped after them
ilong the hard beach, around the head of the bay. It was i
HAIFA AND MOUNT CARMEL. H
brilliant mdruing ; a delicious south-eastern breeze came to u»
OTer the flowery plain of Esdraelon ; the sea on our right shone
blue, and purple, and violet-green, and black, as the shadows
or sunshine crossed it, and only the long lines of roaring foam,
for ever changing in form, did not vary in hue A fisherman
stood on the beac*» in a statuesque attitude, his handsome bare
legs bathed in the frothy swells, a bag of fish hanging from his
shoulder, and the large square net, with its sinkers of lead in
his right hand, ready for a cast. He had good luck, for the
waves brought up plenty of large fish, and cast them at our
feet, leaving them to struggle back into the treacherous brine.
Between Acre and Haifa we passed six or eight wrecks, mostly
of small trading vessels. Some were half buried in sand, some
so old and mossy that they were fast rotting away, while a few
had been recently hurled there. As we roijnded the deep curve
of the bay, and approached the line of palm-trees girding the
foot of Mount Carmel, Haifa, with its wall and Saracenic
town in ruin on the hill above, grew more clear and bright in
the sun, while Acre dipped into the blue of the Mediterranean.
The town of Haifa, the ancient Caiapha, is small, dirty, and
beggarly looking ; but it has some commerce, sharing the trade
of Acre in the productions of Syria. It was Sunday, and ail
the Consular flags were flying. It was an unexpected delight
to find the American colors in this little Syrian town, flying
U'om one of the tallest poles. The people stared at us as we
passed, and I noticed among them many bright Frankish faces,
with eyes too clear and gray for Syria. ye kind brothers of
the monastery of Carmel I forgive me if I look to you for as
axplahation of this phenomenon.
We ascended to Mount Carmel. The path led through a
12 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
grove of carob trees, from which the beans, known in Germanj
as St. John's bread, are produced. After this we came into
an olive grove at the foot of the mountain, from wnich long
fields of wheat, giving forth a ripe summer smell, flowed dowD
to tHe shore of the bay. The olive trees were of immense size,
and I can well believe, as Fra Carlo informed us, that they
*ere probably planted by the Roman colonists, established
there by Titus. The gnarled, veteran boles still send forth
vigorous and blossoming boughs. There were all manner of
lovely lights and shades chequered over the turf and the wind-
ing path we rode. At last we reached the foot of an ascent,
steeper than the Ladder of Tyre. As our horses slowly climbed
to the Convent of St. Elijah, whence we already saw the French
flag floating over the shoulder of the momitain, the view opened
grandly to the north and east, revealing the bay and plain of
Acre, and the coast as far as Ras Nakhura, from which we first
saw Mount Carmel the day previous. The two views are very
similar in character, one being the obverse of the other. We
reached the Convent — Dayr Mar Elias, as the Arabs call it —
at noon, just in time to partake of a bountiful dinner, to which
the monks had treated themselves. Fra. Carlo, the good Fran-
ciscau who receives strangers, showed us the building, and the
Grotto of Elijah, which is under the altar of the Convent
Church, a small but very handsome structure of Italian marble.
The sanctity of the Grotto depends on tradition entirely, aa
there is no mention in the Bible of Elijah havino- resided ou
Carmel, though it was from this mountain that he saw the
cloud, " like a man's hand," rising from the sea. The Convent,
which is quite new— not yet completed, in fact — is a large^
massive building, and has the aspect of a fortress.
THE RUINS OF CiESAREA. 43
As we were to sleep at Tantura, five hours distaut, we
were obligod to make a short visit, in spite of the invitation of
the hospitable Fra Carlo to spend the night there. In the
afternoon we passed the ruins of Athlit, a town of the Middle
Ages, and the Castel Pellegrino of the Crusaders. Our road
now followed the beach, nearly the whole distance to Jaflfa^
and was in many places, for leagues in extent, a solid layer of
white, brown, purple and rosy shells, which cracked and rattled
under our horses' feet. Tantura is a poor Arab village, and
we had some difficulty in procuring provisions. The people
lived in small huts of mud and stones, near the sea. The place
had a thievish look, and we deemed it best to be careful in the
disposal of our baggage for the night.
In the morning we took the coast again, riding over millions
of shells. A line of sandy hills, covered with thickets of
myrtle and mastic, shut off the view of the plain and meadows
between the sea and the hills of Samaria. After three hours'
ride we saw the ruins of ancient Caesarea, near a small pro-
montory. The road turned away from the sea, and took the
wild plain behind, which is completely overgrown vnth. camo-
mile, chrysanthemum and wild shrubs. The ruins of the town
are visible at a considerable distance along the coast. The
principal remains consist of a massive wall, flanked with pyra-
midal bastions at regular intervals, and with the traces of gate-
ways, draw-bridges and towers. It was formerly surrounded
by a deep moat. Within this space, which may be a quarter
of a mile square, are a few fragments of buildings, and toward
the sea, some high arches and masses of masonry. The plain
around abounds with traces of houses, streets, and court-yards
Caesarea was one of the Roman colonies, but owed its prosp»
44 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEU.
rity principally to Herod. St Paul passed through it on his
way from Macedon to Jerusalem, by the very road we wera
travelling.
During the day the path struck inland over a vast rollinj^
plain, covered with sage, lavender and other sweet-smelliag
shrubs, and tenanted by herds of gazelles and flocks of large
storks. As we advanced farther, the landscape became singu-
larly beautiful. It was a broad, shallow valley, swelling away
towards the east into low, rolling hills, far back of which rose
the blue line of the mountains — the hill-country of Judea.
The soil, where it was ploughed, was the richest vegetable loam.
Where it lay fallow it was entirely hidden by a bed of grass
and camomile. Here and there great herds of sheep and goats
browsed on the herbage. There was a quiet pastoral air about
the landscape, a soft serenity in its forms and colors, as if the
Hebrew patriarchs still made it their abode. The district is
famous for robbers, and we kept our arms in readiness, never
suffering the baggage to be out of our sight.
Towards evening, as Mr. H. and myself, with Frangois,
were riding in advance of the baggage mules, the former with
his gun In his hand, I with a pair of pistols thrust through the
folds of my shawl, and Frangois with his long Turkish sabre,
we came suddenly upon a lonely Englishman, whose com-
panions were somewhere in the rear. He appeared to be
struck with terror on seeing us making towards him, and,
turning his horse's head, made an attempt to fly. The animal,
aowever, was restive, and, after a few plunges, refused to
move. Tiie traveller gave himself up for lost ; his arms
dropped by his side ; he stared wildly at us, with pale face
and eyes opened wide with a look of helpless fright. Restrain'
BL HARAM. 4-5
Sng with difBcul'y a SDOut of laughter, I said to him ; "Bid
you leave Jaffa to-day ?" but so completely was his ear the
fool cf his imagination, that he thought I was speaking
Arabic, and made a faint attempt to get out the only word or
two of that language which he knew. I then repeated, with
as much distinctness as I could command : "Did — ^you^ — leave
— Jaffa— ^to-day ?" He stammered mechanically, thi-ough his
chattering teeth, " Y-y-yes 1" and we immediately dashed off
at a gallop through the bushes. When we last saw him, he
was standing as we left him, apparently nOt yef recovered
from the shock.
At the little village of E! Haram, where we spent the
bight, I visited the tomb of Sultan Ali ebn-Aleym. who is now
revered as a saint. It is enclosed in a mosque, crowning the
top of a hill. ' I was admitted into the court-yard without
hesitation, though, from the porter styling me '' Effendi," he
probably took me for a Turk. At the entrance to the inner
court, I took off my slippers and walked to the tomb of the
Sultan — a square heap of white marble, in a small marble
enclosure. In one of the niches in the Wall, near the tomb,
there is a very old iron box, with a slit in the top. The por
ter informed me that it contained a charm, belonging to Sul
tan Ali, which was of great use in producing rain in times of
drouth.
In the morning we sent our baggage by a short road across
the country to this place, and then rode down the beach
towards Jaffa. The sun came out bright and hot as we paced
along the line of spray, our horses' feet sinking above the fet-
locks in pink and purple shells, while the drol' sea-crabs scam-
piered away from our path, and the blue gelatinous sea-uettles
ib THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
were tossed before us by the surge. Our view was confiucd ti
the saiidrhills — sometimes covered with a flood of scarlet pop-
pies — on one hand; and to the blue, surf-fringed sea on tha
x)ther. The terrible coast was still lined with wrecks, and
just before reaching the town, we passed a vessel of some two
hundred tons, recently cast ashore, with her strong hull still
unbroken. We forded the rapid stream of El Anjeh, which
comes down from the Plain of Sharon, the water rising to our
saddles. The low promontory in front now broke into towers
and white domes, and great masses of heavy walls. The
aspect of Jaffa is exceedingly picturesque. It is built on a
hill, and the land for many miles around it being low and flat,
its topmost houses overlook all the fields of Sharon. The old
harbor, protected by a reef of rocks, is on the north side of
the town, but is now so sanded up that large vessels cannot
eiiter. A number of small craft were lying close to the shore.
The port presented a different scene when the ships of Hirara,
King 01 Tyre, came in with the materials for the Temple of
Solomon. There is but one gate on the land side, which
is rather strongly fortified. Outside of this there is an open
space, whic'u we found filled with venders of oranges and vege-
tables, camel-men and the like, some vociferating in. loud dis^
pute, some given up to silence and smoke, under the shade of
the sycamores.
We rode under the heavily arched and towered gateway,
and entered the bazaar. The street was crowded, and there
(v-as such a confusion of camels, donkeys, and men, that
we made our way with difficulty along the only practicable
street in the city, to the sea-side, where Francois pointed out
a hole in the wall as the veritable spot where Jonah was cas',
3ATTA. 47^
ashore by the whale. This part of the harbor is the recej>-
tacle of all the offal of the town ; and I do not wonder
that the whale's stomach should have turned on approaching
it. The sea-street was filled with merchants and traders, and
we were obliged to pick our way between bars of iron, skins
of oil, heaps of oranges, and piles of. building timber. At last
we reached the end, and, as there was no other thoroughfare,
returned the same way we went, passed out the gate, and took
the road to Ramleh and Jerusalem.
But 1 hear the voice of Frangois, announcing, " Messieurs, It
diner est prel." We are encamped just beside the pool of
Ramleh, and the mongrel children of the town are making
a great noise in the meadow below it. Our horses are enjoy-
ing their barley ; and Mustapha stands at the tent-door tying
up his sacks. Dogs are barking and donkeys braying all
along the borders of the town, whose filth and dilapidation
are happily concealed by the fig and olive gardens which sur-
round it. I have not curiosity enough to visit the Greek and
Latin Convents embedded in its foul purlieus, but content
myself with gazing from my door upon the blue hills of
Palestine, which we must cross to-morrow, on our way to
Jerusalem.
t8, rHB LANDS OF THE SAKAOBN.
CHAPTER III.
FROM JAFFA TO JERUSALEM.
rhe Garden of Jaffa — Breakfast at a, Fountain — The Plain of Sharon— The Rolnad
Hcsque of Ratnleh — A Judean Landscape— The Streets of Kamleh — Am 1 in Palefl*
tine? — A Heavenly Morning — The Land of Milk and Honey — Entering the Hill-
Country— The Pilgrim's Breakfast— The Father of Lies— A Church of the Crusajen
—The Agriculture of the Uills^The Valley of Elah— Day-Dreams- The Wilderneu
—The Approach— We-see the Holy City.
" Through the air sublime,
Over the wilderness and o'er the plain ;
Till underneath them 'air Jerusalem,
The Holy City, hfted high her towers."
Pabadise RiiaAniia).
JsRHSALBM, Thursday, April 29, 186S.
Leavikg the gate of Jaffa, we rode eastward betweeo delight-
ful gardens of fig, citron, orange, pomegranate and palm. The
country for several miles around the city is a complete level —
part of the great plain of Sharon — and the gray mass Ot
building crowning the little promontory, is the only landmark
seen above the green garden-land, on looking towards the sea
The road was lined with hedges of giant cactus, now in blos-
som, and shaded occasionally with broad-armed sycamores
The orange trees were in bloom, and at the same time laden
lowu with ripe fruit. The oranges of Jaffa are the finest iu
iyria, and great numbers of them are sent to Beyrout aud
THK PLAIN OF SHARON. 49
Other ports further north. The dark fcliage of the pome-
granate fairly blazed with its heavy scarlet blossoms, and hero
and there a cluster of roses made good the Scriptural renown
of those of Sharon. The road was filled with people, passing
10 and fro, and several families of Jaffa Jews were having a
sort of pic-nic in tlie choice shady spots.
Ere long we came to a fountain, at a point where two road
met. It was a large square structure of limestone and marble,
with a stone trough in front, and a delightful open chamber at
the side. The space in front was shaded with immense syca-
more trees, to which we tied our horses, and then took our seats
iu the window above the fountain, where the Greek brought us
our breakfast. The water was cool and deli( ious, as were our
Jaffa oranges. It was a charming spot, for as we sat we could
look under the boughs of the great trees, and down between
the gardens to Jaffa and the Mediterranean. After leaving
- the gardens, we came upon the great plain of Sharon, on which
we could see the husbandmen at work far and near, ploughing
and sowing their grain. In some instances, the two operations
were made simultaneously, by having a sort of funnel attached
to the plough-handle, running into a tube which entered the
earth just behind the share. The man held the plough with
one hand, while with the other he dropped the requisite quan-
tity of seed through the tube into the furrow. The people are
ploughing now for their summer crops, and the wheat and bar
ley which they sowed last winter are already in full head. Ou
other parts of the plain, there were large flocks of sheep and
goats, with their attendant shepherds. So ran the rich land-
scape, broken o:ily by belts of olive trees, to the far MBa oi
Judea.
60 THE LANDS OF THE SABAUEN.
Riding on over the long, low swells, fragrant with wiW
thyme and camomile, we saw at last the tower of Ramleh, and
down the valley, an hour's ride to the north-east, the minaret
of Lndd, the ancient Lydda. Still further, I could see the
houses of the village of Sharon, embowered in olives. Ramleh
is built along the crest and on the eastern slope of a low, hill,
aniH at a distance appears like a stately place, but this impres-
sion is immediately dissipated on entering it. West of the
town is a largo square tower, between eighty and ninety feet in
height. We rode up to it through an orchard of ancient olive
trees, ind over a field of beans. The tower is evidently a min-
aret, as it is built in the purest Saracenic style, and is sui*-
rounded by the ruins of a mosque. I have rarely seen any-
thing more graceful than the ornamental arches of the upper
portions. Over the door is a lintel of white marble, with an
Arabic inscription. The mosque to which the tower is attached
is almost entirely destroyed, and only part of the arches of a
corridor around three sides of a court-yard, w'th the fountain
in the centre, still remain. The subterranean cisterns, under
the court-yard, amazed me with their extent and magnitndc.
'I'hey are no less than twenty-four feet deep, and covered by
twenty-four vaulted ceilings, each twelve feet square, and res^
ing on massive pillars. The mosque, when entire, must have
been one of the finest in Syria.
We clambered over the broken stones cumbering the entrance,
and mounted the steps to the very summit. The view reached
from Jaffa and the sea to the mountains near Jerusalem, and
southward to the plain of Ascalon — a great expanse of grain
flud grazing land, all blossoming as the rose, and dotted, espe-
cially near the mountains, with dark, luxuriant olive-giove&
All I IN PALESTINE? 61
The landscape had something of the green, pastoral beauty of
England, except the mountains, which were wholly of Palestine.
The shadows of fleecy clouds, drifting slowly from east to west,
moved across the landscape, which became every moment softo
and fairer in the light of the declining sun.
I did not tarry in Ramleh. The streets are narrow, crooked,
and filthy as only an Oriental town can be. The houses have
either flat roofs or domes, out of the crevices in which springs
a plentiful crop of weeds. Some yellow dogs barked at us as
we passed, childreu in tattered garments stared, and old tur-
baned heads were raised from the pipe, to guess who the two
brown individuals might be, and why they were attended by
such a fierce cawass. Passing through the eastern gate, we
were gladdened by the sight of our tents, already pitched iii
the meadow beside the cistern. Dervish had arrived an hour
before us, and had everything ready for the sweet lounge of an
hour, to which we treat ourselves after a day's ride. I watched
the evening fade away over the blue hills before us, and tried
to convince myself that I should reach Jerusalem on the mor-
row. Reason said : " You certainly will 1" — but to Faith the
Holy City was as far off as ever. Was it possible that I was
in Judea ? Was this the Holy Land of the Crusades, the soil
hallowed by the feet of Christ and his Apostles ? I must
believe it. Yet it seemed once that if I ever trod that earth,
then beneath my feet, there would be thenceforth a consecra-
tion iu my life, a holy essence, a purer inspiration on the lips,
a surer faith in the heart. And because I was not other than
I had been, I half doubted whether it was the Palestine of
Diy dreams.
A number of Arab cameleers, who had come with travellers
52 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
across tlie Desert from Egypt, were encamped near us. Fran-
cois was suspicious of some of them, and tlierefore divided the
niglit into three watches, which were kept by himself and our
two men. Mustapha was the last, and kept not only himself,
but myself, wide awake by his dolorous chants of love and reli-
gion. I fell sound asleep at dawn, but was roused before
sunrise by Francois, who wished to start betimes, on account
of the rugged road we had to travel. The morning was
mild, clear, and balmy, and we were soon packed and in
motion. Leaving the baggage to follow, we rode ahead
over the fertile fields. The wheat and poppies were glistening
with dew, birds sang among the fig-trees, a cool breeze came
down from the hollows of the hills, and my blood leaped
as nimbly and joyously as a young hart on the mountains of
Betber.
Between Ramleh and the hill-country, a distance of about
eight miles, is the rolling plain of Arimathea, and this, as well
as the greater part of the plain of Sharon, is one of the richest
districts in the world. The soil is a dark-brown loam, and,
without manure, produces annually superb crops of wheat and
barley. We rode for miles through a sea of wheat, waving
far and wide over the swells of land. The tobacco in the fields
about Raralch was the most luxuriant I ever saw, and the
olive and fig attain a size and lusty strength wholly unknown
in Italy. Judea cursed of God 1 what a misconception, not
only of God's mercy and beneficence, but of the actual fact 1
Give Palestine into Christian hands, and it will again flow with
milk and honey. E.Kc.ept some parts of Asia Minor, no por-
tion of the Levant is capable of yielding such a harvest of
vjrain, silk, wool, fruits, oil, and wine. The gi-eat disadvantagf
ENTERINtt THE HILL-COUNTRY. 53
under which the country labors, is its frequent drouthSj
but were the soil more generally cultivated, and the old
orchards replanted, these would neither be so frequent nor so
severe.
We gradually ascended the hills, passing one or two Tillages,
imbedded in gropes of olives. In the little valleys, slanting
down to the plains, the Arabs were still ploughing and sowing,
singing the while an old love-song, with its chorus of " ya,
gaazake! ya, ghazalet!" (oh, gazelle ! oh, gazelle!) The valley
narrowed, the lowlands behind us spread out broader, and in
half an hour more we were threading a narrow pass, between
stony hills, overgrown with ilex, rajtrtle, and dwarf oak. The
wild purple rose of Palestine blossomed on all sides, and a fra-
grant white honeysuckle in some places hung from the rocks.
The path was terribly rough, and barely wide enough for two
persons on horseback to pass each other. We met a few pil-
grims returning from Jerusalem, and a straggling company of
armed Turks, who had such a piratical air, that without the
solemn asseveration of Francois that the road was quite safe,
I should have felt uneasy about our baggage. Most of the
persons we passed were Mussulmen, few of whom gave the
customary " Peace be with you I" but once a Syrian Christian
saluted me with, " God go with you, Pilgrim !" For
two hours after entering the mountains, there was scarcely
a sign o' cultivation. The rock was limestone, or marble,
lying in horizontal strata, the broken edges of which rose like
terraces to the summits. These shelves were so covered with
wild shrubs — in some places even with rows of olive trees —
thitt to me they had not the least appearance of that desoliv
lion so generally ascribed to them.
54 THE LANDS OP THE SARACBN.
lu a little dell among the hills there is a small ruined mosque,
or chapel (I could not decide which), shaded by a group of
magnificent terebinth trees. Several Arabs were resting in its
shade, and we hoped to find there the water we were looking
for, in order to make breakfast. But it was not to be found,
and we climbed nearly to the summit of the first chain of hills,
where in a small olive orchard, there was a cistern, filled bj
the late rains. It belonged to two ragged boys, who brought
US an earthen vessel of the water, and then asked, " Shall we
bring you milk, Pilgrims !" I assented, and received a small
jug of thick buttermilk, not remarkably clean, but very refresh-
ing. My companion, who had not recovered from his horror at
finding that the inhabitants of Ramleh washed themselves in
tLe pool which supplied us and them, refused to touch it. We
made but a short rest, for it was now nearly noon, and there
were yet many rough miles between us and Jerusalem. W-e-
srossed the first chain of mountains, rode a short distance over
a stony upland, and then descended into a long cultivated
valley, running to the eastward. At the end nearest us
appeared the village of Aboo '1 Ghosh (the Father of Lies),
which takes its name from a noted Bedouin shekh, who distin-
guished himself a few years ago by levying contributions on
tratellers. He obtained a large sum of money iu this way,
but as ho added murder to robbt.-y, and fell upon Turks as
well as Christians, he was finally captured, and is now expi
ating his offences in some mine on the coast of the Black
Sea.
Near the bottom of the village there is a large ruined build-
ing, now used as a stable by the inhabitants. The interior id.
divided into a nave and two side aisles by rows of square
AGRICULTURE OF THE HILLS. 55
pillars; from which spring pointed arches. The door-way is at
the side, and is Gothic, with a dash of Saracenic in the orna-
mental mouldings above it. The large window at the extremity
of the nave is remarkable for having round arches, which circnra-
stance, together with the traces of arabesque painted ornaments
on the columns, led me to think it might have been a mosque ;
but Dr. Robinson, who is now here, considers it a Christian
church, of the time of the Crusaders. The village of Aboo '1
Ghosh is said to be the site of the birth-place of the Prophet
Jeremiah, and I can well imagioe it to have been the case.
The aspect of the mountain-country to the east and north-east
would explain the savage dreariness of his lamentations. The
whole valley in which the. village stands, as well as another
which joins it on the east, is most assiduously cultivated. The
stony mountain sides are wrought into terraces, where, in spite
of soil which resembles an American turnpike, patches of
wheat are growing luxuriantly, and olive trees, centuries old,
hold on to the rocks with a clutch as hard and bony as the
hand of Death. In the bed of the valley the fig tree thrives,
and sometimes the vine and fig grow together, forming the
patriarchal arbor of shade familiar to us all. The shoots of
the tree are still young and green, but the blossoms of the
grape do not yet give forth their goodly savor. I did not hear
the voice of the turtle, but a nightingale sang in the briery
thickets by the brook side, as we passed along.
Climbing out of this valley, we descended by a stony stair-
case, as rugged as the Ladder of Tyre, into the Wady Beit
Haniueh. Here were gardens of oranges in blossom, with
orchards of quince and apple, overgrown with vines, and the
iiragrant hawthorn tree, snowy with its bloom. A stone
56 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
bridge, the only one on the road, crosses the dry bed of a
winter stream, and, looking up the glen, I saw the Arab
village of Kulonieh, at the entrance of the valley of Elah,
glorious with the memories of the shepherd-boy, David. Our
road turned off to the right, and commenced ascending a long,
dry glen between mountains which grew more sterile the
further we «rent. It was nearly two hours past noon, the sun
fiercely hot, and our horses were nigh jaded out with the rough
road and our impatient spurring. I began to fancy we could
see Jerusalem from the top of the pass, and tried to think of
the ancient days of Judea. But it was in vain. A newer
picture shut them out, and banished even the diviner images
of Our Saviour and His Disciples. Heathen that I was, 1
L'ould only think of Godfrey and the Crusaders, toiling up the
same path, and the ringing lines of Tasso vibrated constantly
ia my ear :
' Ecoo apparir Gierusalemm' si vede ;
Ecco additar Gierusalemm' si soorge ;
Ecco da mille vooi unitamente, ^
Gieruaalemme salutar si sente !"
The Palestine of the Bible — the Land of Promise to the
Israelites, the land of Miracle and Sacrifice to the ApostlcB
and theii* followers — still slept in the unattainable distance,
under a sky of bluer and more tranquil loveliness than that to
whose cloudless vault I looked up. It lay as far and beautiful
us it once seemed to the eye of childhood, and the swords of
Seraphim kept profane feet from its sacred hills. But these
rough rocks around me, these dry, fiery hollows, these thickets
of ancient oak and ilex, had heard the trumpets of the Middle
THE AI'PROACn TO THE HOLT CIIV. 51
Ages, and the elang and clatter of European armor — I could
feel and believo that. I entered the ranks ; I followed the
trnmpets and the holy hymns, and waited breathlessly for the
m'Jment when every mailed knee should drop in the dust, and
every bearded and sunburned cheek be wet with devotional
tears.
But when I climbed the last ridge, and looked ahead with
a sort of painful suspense, Jerusalem did not appear. We
were two thousand feet above the Mediterranean, whose blue
we could dimly see far to the west, through notches in the
chain of hills. To the north, the mountains were gray,
desolate, and awful. Not a shrub or a . tree reheved their
frightful barrenness. An upland tract, covered with white
volcanic rock, lay before us. We met peasants with asses, who
looked (to my eyes) as if they had just left Jerusalem. Still
forward we urged our horses, and reached a ruined garden,
surrounded with hedges of cactus, over which I saw domes
and walls in the distance. I drew a long breath and looked at
Frangois. He was jogging along without turning his head ;
he could not have been so indifferent if that was really the
city. Presently, we reached another slight rise in the rocky
plain. He began to urge his panting horse, and at the same
instant we both lashed the spirit into ours, dashed on at a
break-neck gallop, round the corner of an old wall on the top
of the hill, and lo ! the Holy City !■ Our Greek jerked both
pistols from his holsters, and fired them into the air, as we
reined up on the steep.
From the descriptions of travellers, I had expected to see iu
Jerusalem an ordinary modern Turkish town ; but tha,t before
lae, with its w ills, fortresses, and domes, was vt not still the
3*
68 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
City of David ? I saw the Jerusalem of the New TL'Stamenl,
as 1 had imagined it. , Long lines of walls crowned with a
notched parapet and strengthened by towers; a few domes and
spires above them; clusters of cypress here and there; this
was all that was visible of the city. On either side the hill
sloped down to the two deep valleys over which it hangs. Ou
the east, the Mount of Olives, crowned with a chapel and
mosque, rose high and steep, but in front, the eye passed
directly over the city, to rest far away upon the lofty moun-
tains of Moab, beyond the Dead Sea. The scene was grand iu
its simplicity. The prominent colors were the purple of those
distant mountains, a,nd the hoary gray of the nearer hills. The'
walls were of the dull yellow of weather-stained marble, and
the only trees, the dark cypress and moonlit olive. Now,
indeed, for one brief moment, I knew that I was in Palestine :
that I saw Mount Olivet and Mount Zion; and — I know not
how it was — my sight grew weak, and all objects trembled and
wavered in a watery film. Since we arrived, I have looked
down upon the city from the Mount of Olives, and np to it
from the Valley of Jehosaphat; but I cannot restore the
illusion of that first view.
We allowed our horses to walk slowly down the remaining
half-mile to the Jaffa gate. An Englishman, with a red silk
shawl over his head, was sketching the city, while an Arab
held an umbrella over him. Inside the gate we stumbled upon
an Italian shop with an Italian sign, and after threading n
number of intricate passages under dark archways, and being
turned off from one hotel, which was full of travellers, reached
Another, kept by a converted German Jew, where we found Dr.
Robinson and Dr. Ely Smith, who both amved yesterday. It
jrntTSAiEM. t'li)
Konnds strange to talk of a hotel in Jerasalem, but the world
is progressing, and there are already three. I leare to-mor
row for Jericho, the Jordan, and the Dead Sea, and shall have
more to say of Jerasalem on my retnru.
TiO TUE LANDS OF THE oARACJBM
CHAPTER IV.
THE DEJlD sea AND THE KIVER JORD&N.
Bargaining for a Guard — Departure from Jerusalem — The Hill of Offence — Bethauf— <
The Grotto of Lazarus — The Valley of Fire — Scenery of the Wilderness — The liilts a
Engaddi — The shore of the Dead Sea — A Bituminous Bath — Gallop to the Jordan—
A watch for Robbers — The Jordan — Baptism — The Plains of Jericho — The Fountain
of Elisha — The Mount of Temptation — Return to Jerusalem.
" And the spoiler shall come upon every city, and no city shall escape ; the valley
also shall perish and the plain shall be destroyed^ as the Lord hath spoken."—
JBRBMIAH, Xlviii. 8.
Jbbusalem, Jfay 1, 1S52.
I RETURNED this afternoon from an excursion to tlie Dead Sea,
the River Jordan, and the site of Jericho. Owing to the
approaching heats, an early visit was deemed desirable, and the
shekhs, who have charge of the road, were summoned to meet
us on the day after we arrived. There are two of these
gentlemen, the Shekh el-Arab (of the Bedouins), and the
Shekh el-Fellaheen (of the peasants, or husbandmen), to whom
each traveller is obliged to pay one hundered piastres for an
escort. It is, in fact, a sort of compromise, by which the
shekhs agree not to rob the traveller, and to protect him
against other shekhs. If the road is not actually safe, the
Turkish garrison here is a mere farce, but the arrangement is
winked at by the Pasha, who, of course, gets his share of th«
DEPARTURE FROM JERUSALEM. 61
100,000 piastres which the two scamps yearly levy upon
travellers The shekhs came to our rooms, and after trying to
postpone our departure, iu order to attach other tourists to the
same escort, and thus save a little expense, took half the pay
and agreed to be ready the next morning. TJufortunately for
my original plan, the Convent of San Saba has been closed
within two or three weeks, and no stranger is now admitted.
This unusual step was caused by the disorderly conduct of some
Frenchmen who visited San Saba. We sent to the Bishop of
the Greek Church, asking a simple permission to view thfl
interior of the Convent; but without effect.
We left the city yesterday morning by St. Stephen's Gate,
descended to the Valley of Jehosaphat, rode under the stone
wall which encloses the supposed Gethsemaue, and took a path
leading along the Mount of Olives, towards the Hill of
Offence, which stands over against the southern end of the city,
opposite the mouth of the Vale of Hinnon. Neither of the
shekhs made his appearance, but sent in their stead three
Arabs, two of whom were mounted and armed with sabres and
long guns. Our man, Mustapha, had charge of the baggage-
mule, carrying our tent and the provisions for the trip. It was
a dull, sultry morning ; a dark, leaden haze hung over Jerusa-
lem, and the khamseen, or sirocco-wind, came from the south-
west, out of the Arabian Desert. Wo had again resumed the
Oriental costume, but in spite of an ample turban, my face
soon began to scorch in the dry heat. J'rom the crest of the
Hill of Offence there is a wide view over the heights on both
sides of the valley of the Brook Kedron. Their sides are
worked into terraces, now green with springing grain, and near
the bottom planted with olive anc" fig trees The upland rldg«
6S THE liANDS OF THE SARACEN.
or watershed of Palestine is cultivated for a cousiderabk
distance around Jerusalem. The soil is light and stony, yet
appears to yield a good return for the little labor bestowed
upon it.
Crossing the southern flank of Mount Oliyet, iu half an hom:
wc reached the village of Bethany, hanging on the side of the
hill. It is a miserable cluster of Arab huts, with not a building
which appears to be more than a century old. The Grotto of
Lazarns is here shown, and, of course, we stopped to sec it.
It belongs to an old Mussulman, who came out of his house with
a piece of waxed rope, to light us down. An aperture opens
from the roadside into the hill, and there is barely room enough
for a person to enter. Descending about twenty steps at a
sharp angle, we landed in a small,, damp vault, with an opening
in the floor, communicating with a short passage below. The
vault was undoubtedly excavated for sepulchral purposes, and
the bodies were probably deposited (as in many Egyptian
tombs) in the pit under it. Our guide, however, pointed to a
square mass of masonry in one corner as the tomb of Lazarus,
whose body, he informed us, was still walled up there. There
was an arch in the side of the vault, once leading to other
chambers, but now closed np, and the guide stated that
seventy-four Prophets were interred therein. There seems to
be no doubt that the present Arab village occupies the site of
Bethany; and if it could be proved that this pit existed at the
beginning of the Gliristiau Era, and there never had been any
other, we might accept it as the tomb of Lazarus. On the
crest of a high hill, over against Bethany, is an Arab village on
the site of Bethpage.
Wf! descended into the valley of a winter stream, now died
THE VALLEY OF FIKE. 62
witli patches of sparse wheat, just beginning to ripeii. Tlie
mountains grew more bleak and desolate as we advanced, and
as there is a regular descent in the several ranges over which
one must pass, the distant hills of the la>nds of Moab and
^mmon were always in sight, rising like a high, blue wall
against the sky. The Dead Sea is 4,000 feet below, Jerusa-
lem, but the general slope of the intervening district is sr
regular that from the spires of the city, and the Mount ol
Olives, one can look down directly upon its waters. This
deceived me as to the actual distance, and I could scarcely
credit the assertion of our Arab. escort, that it would requirei
six hours to reach it. After we had ridden nearly two hours,
we left the Jericho road, sending Mustapha and a staunch olo
Arab direct to our resting-place for the night, in the Valley of
the Jordan. The two mounted Bedouins accompanied us across
the rugged mountains lying between us and the Dead Sea.
At first, we took the way to the Convent of Mar Saba, fol-
lowing the course of the Brook Kedron down the Wady
i.n-Nar (Valley of Fire). In half an hour more we reached
two large tanks, hewn out under the base of a limestone cliif,
and nearly filled with rain. The surface was covered with a
greenish vegetable scum, and three wild and dirty Arabs
of the hills were washing themselves in the principal one
Our Bedouins, immediately dismounted and followed their
example, and after we had taken some refreshment, we had
llie satisfaction of filling our water-jug from the same sweet
pool. After this, we left, the San Saba road, and mounted the
height east of the valley. From that point, all signs of cuJti
ration and habitation disappeared. The mountains were grim,
bare, and frightfully rugged. The scanty grass,,coaxcd intalife'
04 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACKN.
by the winter rains, was already scorched out of all grcenncBJ
some bunches of wild sage, gnaphalium, and other hardy aro'
ma tic herbs spotted the yellow soil, and in sheltered places the
scarlet poppies burned like coals of fire among the rifts of the
gray limestone rock. Our track kept along the higher
ridges and crests of the hills, between the glens and gorges
which sank on either hand to a dizzy depth below, and were
so steep as to be almost inaccessible. The region is so
scarred, gashed and torn, that no work of man's hand can
save it from perpetual desolation. It is a wilderness more
hopeless than tlie Desert. If I were left alone in the midst
of it, I should lie down and await death, without thought or
hope of rescue.
The character of the day was peculiarly suited to enhance
the impression of such scenery. Though there were no clouds,
tlie sun was invisible : as far as we could see, beyond the Jor-
dan, and away southward to the mountains of Moab and
the cliffs of Engaddi, the whole country was covered as with
the smoke of a furnace ; and the furious sirocco, that threat-
ened to topple us down tlic gulfs yawning on either hand, had
no coolness on its wings. The horses were sure-footed, bnt
now and then a gust would come that made them and us
strain against it, to avoid being dashed against the rock on
one side, or hurled off the brink on the other. The atmos-
phere was painfully oppressive, and by and by a dogged
silence took possession of our party. After passing a lofty
peak which Frangois called Djcbel Nuttar, the Mountain
of Rain, we came to a large Moslem building, situated on
u bleak eminence, overlooking part of the valley of the Jordan.
This is liio tomb called Nebbee Motissa by the Arabs, and
THE SHORE OF THE DEAD SEA. 66
believed by them to stand upon the spot where Moses died
We halted at the gate, but no one came to admit us, though
my companion thought he saw a man's head at one of the aper-
tures in the wall. Arab tradition here is as much at fault aa
Christian tradition in many other places. The true Nebo is
somewhere in the chain of Pisgah; and though, probably,
I saw it, and all see it who go down to the Jordan, yet " no
man knoweth its place unto this day."
Beyond Nebbee Moussa, we came out upon the last heights
overlooking the Dead Sea, though several miles of low
hills remained to be passed. The head of the sea was visible
as far as the Ras-el-Feshka on the west, and the hot fountains
of Callirhoe on the eastern shore. Farther than this, all was
vapor and darkness. The water was a soft, deep purple hue,
brightening into blue. Our road led down what seemed a vast
sloping causeway from the mountains, between two ravines,
walled by cliffs several hundred feet in height. It gradually
flattened into a plain, covered with a white, saline incrus-
tation, and grown with clumps of sour willow, tamarisk, and
other shrubs, among which I looked in vain for the osher, or
Dead Sea apple. The plants appeared as if smitten with
leprosy; but there were some flowers growing almost to the
margin of the sea. We reached the shore about 2 p. m.
The heat by this time was most severe, and the air so dense as
to occasion pains in my ears. The Dead Sea is 1,300 feet
below the Mediterranean, and without doubt the lowest part
of the earth's surface. I attribute the oppression I felt to this
fact and to the sultriness of the day, rather than to any exha-
lation from the sea itself Francois remarked, however, that
hud the wind — which by this time was veering round to
66 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
the uorttt'cqist — ^blown from the south, we could scarcely hare
endared it. The sea resembles a great cauldron, sunk between
mountains from three to four thousand feet in height; and pro-
bably we did not experience more than a tithe of the summer
heat.
I proposed a bath, for the sake of experiment, but Frangois
endeavored to dissuade us. He had tried it, and nothing
could be- more disagreeable ; we • risked getting a fever,
and, besides, there were four hours of dangerous travel yet
before us. But by this time we were half undressed, and
soon were floating on the clear bituminous waves. The beach
was fine gravel and shelved gradually down. I kept my
turban on my head, and was careful to avoid touching the
water with my face. The sea was moderately warm and
gratefully soft and soothing to the skin. It was impossible to
sink ; and even while swimming, the body rose half out of the
•water. I should think it possible to dive for a short distance,
but prefer that some one else would try the experiment.
With a log of wood for a pillow, one might sleep as on one of
the patent mattresses. The taste of the water is salty and
pungent, and stings the tongue like saltpetre. We were
obliged to dress in all haste, without even wiping off the
detestable liquid ; yet I experienced very little of that dis-
comfort which most travellers have remarked. Where the
skin had been previously bruised, there was a slight smarting
sensation, and my body felt clammy and glutinous, but the
bath was rather refreshing than otherwise.
We turned our horses' heads towards the Jordan, and rode
on over a dry, barren plain. The two Bedouins at first
dashed ahead at ull gallop, uttering cries, and whirling theii
A WATCH FOR ROBBERS, 67
long guns in the air. The dust they raised was blown in our
faces, and contained so much salt that' my eyes began to smart
painfully. Thereupon I followed them at an equal rate of speed
and we left a long cloud of the accursed soil whirling behind
us. Presently, however, they fell ,to the rear,- and continued to
kee]> at some distance from us. The reason of this was soon
explained. The path turned eastward, and we already saw a
line of dusky green winding through the wilderness. This was
the Jordan, and the mountains beyond, the home of robber
Arabs, were close at hand. : Those robbers frequently cross
the river and conceal themselves behind the sand-hills on this
side. Our brave escort was, therefore, inclined to put us for-
ward as a forlorn-hope, and secure their own retreat in case of
an attack. But as we were all well armed, and had never consi-
dered their attendance as anything more than a genteel way
of buying them off from robbing us, we allowed them to lag as
much as they chose. Finally, as we approached the Pilgrims'
Ford, one of them took his station at some distance from the
river, on the top of a mound, while the other got behind some
trees near at hand ; in order, as they said, to watch the oppo- •
site hills, and alarm us whenever they should see any of the
Beni Sukrs, or the Beni Adwams, or the Tyakh, coming down
upon us.
The Jordan at this point will not average more than ten
yards in breadth. It flows at the bottom of a gully about fif-
teen feet d«ep, which traverses tlie broad valley in a most tor-
tnous course. The water has a white, clayey hue, and is very
Bwift. The changes of the current have formed islands and
beds of soil here and there, which are covered with a dense
growth of ash, poplar, willow, and tamarisk trees. The banks
88 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
of the river are bordered with thickets, now overgrown with
wild vines, and fragrant with flowering plants. Birds sing
continually in the cool, dark coverts of the trees, I found a
singular charm in the wild, lonely, luxuriant banks, the tangled
undergrowth, and the rapid, brawling course of the sacred
stream, as it slipped in sight and out of sight among the trees
It is almost impossible to reach the water at any othei
point than the Foi'd of the Pilgrims, the supposed locality
of the passage of the Israelites and the baptism of Christ.
The plain near it is still blackened by the camp-fires of the ten
thousand pilgrims who went down from Jerusalem three weeks
ago, to bathe. We tied our horses to the trees, and prepared-
to follow their example, whieh was necessary, if only to wash off
the iniquitous sllrae of the Dead Sea. Frangois, in the mean-
time, tilled two tin flasks from the stream and stowed them m
the saddle-bags. The current was so swift, that one could not
venture far without the risk of being carried away ; but I sue
ceeded in obtaining a complete and most refreshing immersion.
The taint of Gomorrah was not entirely washed away, but I
rode off with as great a sense of relief as if the baptism had
been a moral one, as well, and had purified rae from sin.
We rode for nearly two hours, in a north-west direction, to
the Bedouin village of Rihah, near the site of ancient Jericho.
Before reaching it, the gray salt waste vanishes, and the soil 'm
covered with grass and herbs. The barren character of the
first region is evidently owing to deposits from the vapors of
the Dea Sea, as thej are blown over the plain by the south
wind. The channels of streams around Jericho are filled witt
nebbuk trees, the fruit of which is just ripening. It is appa-
rently indigenous, and grows more luxuriantly than on the
CAMP AT JERICHO. S9
White Nile. It is a variety of the rharmms, and is set down
by botanists as the Spina Christi, of wliich the Saviour's mock
crown of thorns was made. I see no reason to doubt this, as
the twigs are long and pliant, and armed with small, though
most cruel, thorns. I had to pay for gathering some of tho
fruit, with a torn dress and bleeding fingers. The little apples
which it bears are slightly acid and excellent for alleviating
thirst, I also noticed on the plain a variety of the night-
shade,, with large berries of a golden color. The spring
flowers, so plentiful now in all other parts of Palestine, have
already disappeared from the Valley of the Jordan.
Rihah is a vile little village of tents and mud-huts, and the
only relic of antiquity near it is a square tower, which may
possibly be of the time of Herod. There are a few gardens
in the place, and a grove of superb fig-trees. We found
our tent already pitched beside a rill which issues from the
Fountain of Elisha. The evening was very sultry, and the
musquitoes gave us no rest. We purchased some milk from
an old man who came to the tent, but such was his mistrust
of us that he refused to let us keep the earthen vessel contain-
ing it until morning. As we had already paid the money to
his son, we would not let him take the milk away until he had
brought the money back. He then took a dagger from his
waist and threw it before us as security, while he carried oflf
the vessel and returned the price. I have, frequently seen the
same mistrustful spirit exhibited in Egypt. Our two Bedouins,
to whom I gave some tobacco in the evening, manifested their
gratitude by stealing the remainder of our stock during the
aight.
This morning we followed the stream to its source, the
70 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
Fountain (if Elisha, so called as being probably that healed by
the Prophet. If so, the healing was scarcely complete. Tho
water, which gushes up strong and free at the foot of a rocky
mound, is warm and slightly brackish. It spreads into a
shallow pool, shaded by a fine sycamore tree. Just below,
there are some remains of old walls on both sides, and the
stream goes roaring away through a rank jungle of canes
fifteen feet in height. The precise site of Jericho, I believei,
has not been fixed, but " the city of the palm trees," as it was
called, was probably on the plain, near some mounds which rise
behind the Fountain. Here there are occasional traces of
foundation walls, but so ruined as to give no clue to the date
of their erection. Further towards the mountain there are
some arches, which appear to be Saracenic. As we ascended
again into the hill-country, I observed several traces of cisterns
in the bottoms of ravines, which collect the rains. Herod, as
is well known, built many such cisterns near Jericho, where he
had a palace. On the first crest, to which we climbed, there is
part of a Roman tower yet standing. The view, looking back
over the valley of Jordan, is magnificent, extending from the
Dead Sea to the mountains of Gilead, beyond the country of
Ammon. I thought I could trace the point where the River,
Yabbok comes down from Mizpeh of Gilead to join the Jordan.
The wilderness we now entered was fully as barren, but less
rugged than that through which we passed yesterday.. The
path ascended along the brink of a deep gorge, at the bottom of
which a little stream foamed over the rocks. The high, bleak
summits towards which we were climbing, are considered by
some Biblical geographers to be Mount Quarantana, the scene
of Christ's fasting and temptation. After two hours we
RKTOKN TO JERUSALEM. 11
reached the ruins of a large khan or hostlery, under one of th«
peaks, which Francois stated to be the veritable " high moan<
tain " whence the Devil pointed out all the kingdoms of the
earth. There is a cave in the rock beside the road, which tho
superstitious look upon as the orifice out of which his Satanic
Majesty issued. We met large numbers of Arab families, with
their flocks, descending from the mountains to take up their
summer residence near the Jordan. They were all on foot,
except the young children and goats, which were stowed
together on the backs of donkeys. The men were armed, and
appeared to be of the same tribe as our escort, with whom they
bad a good understanding.
The morning was cold and cloudy, and we hurried on over
the hills to a fountain in the valley of the Brook Kedron,
where we breakfasted. Before we had reached Bethany a rain
came down, and the sky hung dark and lowering over Jerusa-
lem, as we passed the crest of Mount Olivet. It still rains,
and the filthy condition of the city exceeds anything I have
seen, even in the Orient.
frU THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
CHArXER V.
THE CITY OF CHRIST.
ttodem Jerusalem— The Site or the City— Mount Zion- Mount Morlah — The T^mple-r'
The Valley of Jehosaphat— The Olives of G eth soman e— The Mount of Olives— Moslem
Tradition— Panorama from the Summit — The Interior of the City — The Popu ation—
Missions and Missionaries — Christianity in Jerusalem — Intclerance— The Jsws of
Jerusalem — The Face of Christ — The Church of the Holy Sepulchre — The Uoly of
Holies— The Sacred Localities — Visions of Christ^— The Mosque of Omar— The Uolj
Man orTim1>uctoo — Preparations for Departure.
*' Cut otf thy haiff Jerusalem, and cast it aw^ay, and take up a lamentation in high
rlaCRs; for the Lord hath rejected and forsaken the generation of his wrath."-
Jkremiau vii. 29.
" Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek
In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Ueaven."
MlLTOBi.
Jbrusalbh, Monday^ 3tay 8, 1862.
Since travel is becoming a necessary part of education, and
a journey through the East is no longer attended with personal
risk, Jerusalem will soon be as familiar a station on the grand
tour as Paris or Naples. The task of describing it is already
next to superfluous, so thoroughly has the topography of the
city been laid down by the surveys of Robinson and tlic
drawings of Roberts. There is little more left for Biblical
research. The few places which can be authenticated are
now generally accepted, and the many doubtful oucs must
always be the subjects of speculation and conjecture. There
MODERN JERUSALEM. IS
is no new light which can remove the cloud of uncertainties
wherein one continually wanders. Yet, even rejecting al,
these with the most skeptical spirit^ there still remains enough
to make the place sacred in the eyes of every follower of
Christ. The city stands on the ancient site ; the Mount of
Olives looks down upon it ; the foundations of the Temple of
Solomon are on Mount Moriah ; the Pool of Siloam has still
Si, cup of water for those who at noontide go down to the
Valley of Jehosaphat ; the ancient gate yet looketh towards
Damascus, and of the Palace of Herod, there is a tower which
Time and Turk and Crusader have spared.
Jerusalem is built on the summit ridge of the hill-country
of Palestine, just where it begins to slope eastward. Not
half a mile from the Jaffa Gate, the waters run towards the
Mediterranean. It is about 2,100 feet above the latter, and
4,000 feet above the Dead Sea, to which the descent is much
more abrupt. The hill, or rather group of small mounts, on
which Jerusalem stands, slants eastward to the brink of the
Valley of Jehosaphat, and the Mount of Olives rises opposite,
from the sides and summit of which, one sees the entire city
spread out like a map before him. The Valley of Hinnon,
the bed of which is on a much higher level than that of
Jehosaphat, skirts the south-western and southern part of the
walls, and drops into the latter valley at the foot of Mount
Zion, the most southern of the mounts. The steep slope at
the junction of the two valleys is the site of the city of
the Jebusites, the most ancien' Dart of Jerusalem. It is
now covered with garden-terraces, the present wall crossing
from Mount Zion on the south to Mount Moriah on the east.
A little glen, anciently called the Tyropeon, dividefj the
4
74 THB LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
mounts, and winds through to the Damascus Gate; or, th«
north, though from the height of the walls and the position
of the city, the depression which it causes iu the mass of
buildings is not very perceptible, except from the latter point.
Moriah is the lowest of the mounts, and hangs directly over
the Valley of Jehosaphat. Its summit was built up by
Solomon so as to form a quadrangular terrace, five hundred
by three hundred yards in dimension. The lower courses pf
the grand wall, composed of huge blocks of gray conglomerate
limestone, still remain, and there seems to be no doubt that
they are of the time of Solomon. Some of the stones are of
enormous size ; I noticed several which were fifteen, and one
twenty-two feet in length. The upper part of the wall was
restored by Sultan Sclim, the conqueror of Egypt, and the
level of the terrace now supports the great Mosque of Omar,
which stands on the very site of the temple. Except these
foundation walls, the Damascus Gate and the Tower of
Hippicus, there is nothing left of the ancient city. Tht
length of the present wall of circumference is about two miles
but the circuit of Jernsalem, in the time of Herod, was
probably double that distance.
The best views of the city are from the Mount of Olives,
itud the hill north of it, whence Titus directed the siege which
resulted in its total destruction. The Crnsaders nnder God-
frey of Bouillon encamped on the same hill. My first walk
after reaching here, was to the summit of the Mount of Olives,
Not far from the hotel we came upon the Via Dolorosa, up
which, according to Catholic tradition, Christ toiled with the
cross upon his shoulders. I found it utterly impossible to
Imagine that I was walking in the same path, and prefened
THE VALLEY OF JEHOSArllAT. 76
doubting the tradition. An arch is built across the street at
the spot where they say he was shown to the populace;
(Ecce Homo.) The passage is steep and rough, descending to
St. Stephen's Gate by the Governor's Palace, which stands on
the site of the house of Pontius Pilate. Here, in the wall
forming the northern part of the foundation of the temple,
there are some very fine remains of ancient workmanship.
From the city wail, the ground descends abruptly to the
Valley of Jehosaphat. The Turkish residents have their
tombs on the city side, just under the terrace of the mosque,
while thousands of Jews find a peculiar beatitude in having
themselves interred on the opposite slope of the Mount of
Olives, which is in some places quite covered with their
crumbling tombstones. The bed of the Brook Kedron is now
dry and stony. A sort of chapel, built in the bottom of the
valley, is supposed by the Greeks to cover the tomb of the
Virgin — a claim which the Latins consider absurd. Near this,
at the very foot of the Mount of Olives, the latter sect have
lately built a high stone wall around the Garden of Gethse-
mane, for the purpose, apparently, of protecting the five aged
olives. I am ignorant of the grounds wherefore Gethseraaue
is placed here. Most travellers have given their faith to the
spot, but Dr. Robinson, who is more reliable than any amount
of mere tradition, does not coincide with them. The trees do
not appear as ancient as some of those at the foot of Mount
Carmel, which are supposed to date from the Roman colony
established by Titus. Moreover, it is well known that at the
time of the taking of Jerusalem by that Emperor, all
the trees, for many miles around, were destroyed. The
olive-trees, tlierefore, cannot be those under which Chtitit
■f6 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
rested, even supposing this to be the true site of Qetls
semane.
The Mount of Olives is a steep and rugged hill, dominating
orer the city and the surrounding heights. It is still covered
with olive orcharis, and planted with patches of grain, whicli
do not thrive wtU on the stony soil. On the summit is a
mosque, with a minaret attached, which affords a grand pano-
ramic view. As we. reached it, the Chief of the College of
Dervishes, in the court of the Mosque of Omar, came out with
a number of attendants. He saluted us courteously, which
would not have been the case had he been the Superior of the
Latin Convent, and we Greek Monks. There were some
Turkish ladies in the interior of the mosque, so that we could
not gain admittance, and therefore did not see the rock con-
taining the foot-prints of Christ, who, according to Moslem
tradition, ascended to heaven from this spot. The Mohamme-
ians, it may not be generally known, accept the history of
Christ, except his crucifixion, believing that he passed to
heaven without death, another person being crucified in his
stead. They call him the Roh-AUah, or Spirit of God,
and consider him, after Mahomet, as the holiest of the
Prophets.
We ascended to the gallery of the minaret. The city lay
o]>posite; so fairly spread out to our view that almost every
house might be separately distinguished. It is a mass of gray
buildings, with dome-roofs, and but for the mosques of Omar
and El Aksa, with the courts and galleries around them, would
be exceedingly tame in appearance. The only other prominent
points are the towers of the Holy Sepulchre, the citadel,
enclosing Herod's Tower, and the mosque on mount Zion. Thf
A SACRED PANORAMA. 71
Turkish wall, with its sharp angles, its square bastions, and
the long', embrasured lines of its parapet, is the most striding
feature of the view. Stony hills stretch away from the city
on all sides, at present cheered with tracts of springing wheat,
but later in the season, brown and desolate. In the south, the
convent of St. Elias is visible, and part of the little town of
Bethlehem. 1 passed to the eastern side of the gallery, and
looking thence, deep down among the sterile mountains, beheld
a long sheet of blue water, its southern extremity vanishing in
a hot, sulphury haze. The mountains of Ammon and Moab,
which formed the back-ground of my first view of Jerusalem,
leaned like a vast wall against the sky, beyond the mysterious
sea and the broad valley of the Jordan. The great depression
of this valley below the level of the Mediterranean gives it a
most remarkable character. It appears even deeper than ia
actually the case, and resembles an enormous chasm or moat,
separating two different regions of the earth. The khamseen
was blowing from the south, from out the deserts of Edom,
and threw its veil of fiery vapor over the landscape. The
muezzin pointed out to me the location of Jericho, of Kerak
in Moab, and Es-Salt in -the country of Ammon. Ere long
the shadow of tlie minaret denoted noon, and, placing his
hands on both sides of his mouth, he cried out, first on tlie
South side, towards Mecca, and then to the West, and North,
and East : " God is great : there is no God but God, and
Mohammed is His Prophet! Let us prostrate ourselves before
Him : and to Him alone be the glory!"
Jerusalem, internally, gives no impression but that of Eltb,
ruin, poverty, and degradation. There are two or three
streets in the western or higher portion of the city wiiich are
78 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN
tolerably clean, but all the others, to the very gates of the
Holy Sepulchre, are channels of pestilence. The Jewish Quar-
ter, which is the largest, so sickened and disgusted me, that I
should rather go the whole round of the city walla than pass
through it a second time. The bazaars are poor, compared
with those of other Oriental cities of the same size, and the
principal trade seems to be in rosaries, both Turkish and Chris-
tian, crosses, seals, amulets, and pieces of the Holy Sepulchre.
The population, which may possibly reach 20,000, is apparently
Jewish, for the most part ; at least, I have been principally
struck with the Hebrew face, in my walks. The number of
Jews has increased considerably within a few years, and there
is also quite a number who, having been converted to Pro-
testantism, were brought hither at the expense of English
missionary societies for the purpose of forming a Protestant
community. Two of the hotels are kept by families of tliia
class. It is estimated that each member of the community has
cost the Mission about £4,500 : a sura which would have
Christianized tenfold the number of Englisli heathen. The
Mission, however, is kept up by its patrons, as a sort of religi-
ous luxury. The English have lately built a very handsome
church within the walls, and the Rev. Dr. Gobat, well known
by his missionary labors in Abyssinia, now has the title of
Bishop of Jerusalem. A friend of his in Central Africa gave
mc a letter of introduction for hinj, and I am quite disap'
pointed in finding him absent. Dr. Barclay, of Virginia, a
most worthy man in every respect, is at the head of the Amo
rican Mission here. There is, besides, what is called the
" American Colony,'" at the village of Artos, near Bethlehem !
a little community of religious enthusiasts, whose experimenis
CHRISTIANITY IN JERUSALEM. 19
tn cnltiTation have met with remarkable success, and are much
spoken of at present.
Whatever good the various missions here may, in time
accomplish (at present, it does not amount to much), Jerusa
leni is the last, place in the world where an intelligent heathen
would be converted to Christianity. Were I cast here, igno-
rant of any religion, and were I to compare the lives and
practices of the different sects as the means of making my
choice — in short, to judge of each faith by the conduct of its
professors — I should at once turn Mussulman. When you
consider that in the Holy Sepulchre there are nineteen chapels,
each belonging to a different sect, culling itself Christian, and
that a Turkish police is always stationed there to prevent tlio
bloody quarrels which often ensue between them, you may
judge how those who call themselves followers of the Prince
of Peace practice the pure faith he sought to establish.
Between the Greek and Latin churches, especially, tliero is a
deadly feud, and their contentions are a scandal, not only to
the few Christians here, but to the Moslems themselves. I
believe there is a sort of truce at present, owing to the settle-
ment of some of the disputes — as, for instance, the restoration
of the silver star, which the Greeks stole from the shruie of
the Nativity, at Bethlehem. The Latins, however, not long
since, demolished, ri el armis, a chapel which the Greeks com-
menced building on Mount Zion. But, if the employment of
material weapons has been abandoned for the time, there is
none the less a war of words and of sounds still going on. Gc
into the Holy Sepulchre, when mass is being celebrated, and
you can scarcely endure the din. No sooner does the Greek
choir begin its shrill chant, than the Latins fly to the assault
BO THE LANDS Ot THE SARACEN.
They have an organ, and terribly does that organ strain its
bellows and labor its pipes to drown the rival singing. Yoa
think the Latins will carry the day, when suddenly the cymbals
of the Abyssinians strike in with harsh brazen clang, and, for
the moment, triumph. Then there are Copts, and Maronites,
and Armenians, and I know not how many other sects, who
must have their share ; and the service that should be a many-
toned harmony pervaded by one grand spirit of devotion,
becomes a discorcfaiit orgie, befitting the rites of Belial.
A long time ago — I do not know the precise number of
years — the Sultan granted a firman, in answer to the applica-
tion of both Jews and Cliristians. allowing the members of
each sect to put to death any person belonging to the other
sect, who should be found inside of their churches or syna-
gogues. The firman has never been recalled, though in every
place but Jerusalem it remains a dead letter. Here, although
the Jews freely permit Christians to enter their synagogue, a
Jew who slionld enter the Holy Sepulchre would be lucky if
he escaped with his life. Not long since, an English gentle-
man, who was taken by the monks for a Jew, was so severely
beaten that he was confined to his bed for two months. What
worse than scandal, what abomination, that the spot looked
upon by so many Christians as the most awfully sacred ou
earth, should be the scene of such brutish intolerance ! I
never pass the group of Turkish officers, quietly smoking their
long pipes and sipping their coffee within the vestibule of the
Church, without a feeling of humiliation. Worso than the
money-changers whom Clirist scourged out of the Temple, tlie
guardians of this edifice make use of His crucifixicn and
resun'ection as a means of gain. You may buy a piece of the
THE JEWS or JERUSALEM. 81
Stone covering the Holy Sepulchre, duly certified by the
Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem, for about $1. At Bethlehem,
which I vi?ited this morning, the Latin monk who showed us
the manger, the pit where 12,000 innocents were buried, and
other things, had much less to say of the sacredness or authen-
ticity of the place, than of the injustice of allowing the Greeks
u share in its possession.
T "rj native Jewish families in Jerusalem, as well as those
in other parts of Palestine, present a marked difference to the
Jews of Europe and America. They possess the same physi-
cal characteristics — -the dark, oblong eye, the prominent nosQ
the strongly-marked cheek and jaw — but in the latter, these
traits have become harsh and coarse. Centuries devoted to
the lowest and most debasing forms of traffic, with the endu-
rance of persecutioji and contumely, have greatly changed and
vulgarized the appearance of the race. But the Jews of the
Holy City still retain a noble beauty, which proved to my
mind their descent from the ancient princely houses of Israel
The forehead is loftier, the eye larger and more frank in its
expression, the nose more delicate in its prominence, and the
face a purer oval. I have remarked the same distinction in
the countenances of those Jewish families of Europe, whose
members have devoted themselves to Art or Literature.
Mendelssohn's was a face that might have belonged to the
Hoase of David.
On the evening of my arrival in the city, as I set out to
walk through the bazaars, I encountered a native Jew, whose
face will haunt me for the rest of my life. I was sauntering
slowly along, asking myself " Is this Jerusalem ? " when,
lifting my eyes, they met those of Christ 1 It was the very
4*
82 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEK.
face which Raphael has painted — the traditional features of
the Savioir, as they are recognised and accepted by al
Christendom. The waving brown hair, partly hidden by a
Jewish cap, fell clustering about the ears ; the face was the
most perfect oval, and almost feminine in the purity of its
outline ; the serene, child-like mouth was shaded with a light
moustache, and a silky brown beard clothed the chin ; but the
eyes — shall I ever look into such orbs again ? Large, dark,
unfathomable, they beamed with an expression of divine love
and divine sorrow, such as I never before saw in human face.
The man had just emerged from a dark archway, and the
golden glow of the sunset, reflected from a white wall above,,
fell upon his face. Perhaps it was this transfiguration which
made his beauty so unearthly ; but, during the moment that
I saw him, he was to me a revelation of the Saviour. There
are still miracles in the Land of Judah. As the dusk gathered
in the deep streets, I could see nothing but the ineffable
sweetness and benignity of that countenance, and my friend
was not a little astonished, if not shocked, when I said to him,
with the earnestness of belief, on my return : " I have just
seen Christ."
I made the round of the Holy Sepulchre on Sunday, while
the monks were celebrating the festival of the Invention of the
Cross, in the chapel of the Empress Helena. As the finding
of the cross by the Empress is almost the only authority for
the places inclosed within the Holy Sepulchre, I went there
inclined to doubt their authenticity, and came away with my
floubt vastly strengthened. The building is a confused laby-
rinth of chapels, choirs, shrines, staircases, and vaults — without
auy definite plan or any architectural beauty, though very riot
THE HOLY SEPULCHRE 88
in parts and full of picturesque effects. Golden lamps con-
tinually burn before the sacred places, and you rarely yisit
the church without seeing some procession of monks, with
crosses, censers, and tapers, threading the shadowy passages,
from shrine to shrine It is astonishing how many localities
are assembled under one roof. At first, you are shown the
stone on which Christ rested from the burden of the cross ;
then, the place where the soldiers cast lots for His garments,
both of them adjoining the Sepulchre. After seeing this, you
are taken to the Pillar of Flagellation ; the stocks ; the place
of crowning with thorns ; the spot where He met His mother ;
the cave where the Empress Helena found the cross ; and,
lastly, the summit of Mount Calvary. The Sepulchre is a
small marble building in the centre of the church. We removed
our shoes at the entrance, and were taken by a Greek monk,
first into a sort of ante-chamber, lighted with golden lamps,
and having in the centre, inclosed in a case of marble, the
stone on which the angel sat. Stooping through a low door,
we entered the Sepulchre itself. Forty lamps of gold burn
unceasingly above the white marble slab, which, as the monks
say, protects the stone whereon tlie body of Christ was laid.
As we again emerged, our guide led us up a flight of steps to
a second story, in which stood a shrine, literally blazing with
gold. Kneeling on the marble floor, he removed a golden
shield, and showed us the hole in the rock of Calvary, where
the cross was planted. Close beside it was the fissure pro-
duced by the earthquake which followed the Crucifixion. But,
to ray eyes, aided by the light of the dim wax taper, it was no
violent rupture, such as an earthquake would produce, and the
rock did no't appear tc be the same as that of which Jerusalem
84 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEK.
is bnilt. As we turned to leave, a monk appeared with a bowl
of sacred rose-water, which he sprinkled on our hands, bestowing
a double portion on a rosary of sandal-wood which I carried
But it was a Mohammedan rosary, brought from Mecca, and
containing the sacred number of ninety-nine beads.
I have not space here to state all the arguments for and
against the localities in the Holy Sepulchre. I came to the
conclusion that none of them were authentic, and am glad to
have the concurrence of such distinguished authority as Dr.
Robinson. So far from this being a matter of regret, I, for
one, rejoice that those sacred spots are lost to the world,
Christianity does not need them, and they are spared a daily
profanation in the name of religion. We know that Christ lias
walked on the Mount of Olives, and gone down to the Pool of
Siloam, and tarried in Bethany; we know that here, within
the circuit of our vision, He has suffered agony and death, and
that from this little point went out all the light that has made
the world greater and happier and better in its later than in
its earlier days.
Yet, I must frankly confess, in wandering through this city
— revered alike by Christians, Jews and Turks as one of the
holiest in the world — I have been reminded of Christ, the
Man, rather than of Christ, the God. In the glory which
overhangs Palestine afar off, we imagine emotions which never
come., when we tread the soil and walk over the hallowed
Bites. As I toiled up the Mount of Olives, in the very foot-
steps of Christ, panting with the heat and the difficult ascent,
I found it utterly impossible to conceive that the Deity, in
human form, had walked there before me. And even at night,
as I walk on the terraced roof, while the moon, " the balm}
VISIONa Oi' CHRIST. 85
raoon of blessed Israel," restores the Jerusalem of olden aays
to my imagination, the Saviour who then haunts my thoughts
is the Man Jesus, in those moments of trial Avhen He felt the
weaknesses of our common humanity; in that agony of struggle
in the garden of Gethsemane, in that still more bitter cry of
human doubt and human appeal from the cross : " My God,
my God, why hast Thou forsaken me !" Yet there is nc
reproach for this conception of the character of Christ
Better the diTinely-inspired Man, the purest and most perfect
of His race, the pattern and type of all that is good and holy
In Humanity, than the Deity for whose intercession we pray,
wliile we trample His teachings under our feet. It would be
well for many Christian sects, did they keep more constantly
before their eyes the sublime humanity of Christ. Hoiv much
bitter intolerance and persecution might be spared the world,
if, instead of simply adoring Him as a Divine Mediator, they
would strive to walk the ways He trod on earth. But Chris-
tianity is still undeveloped, and there is yet no sect which
represents its full and perfect spirit.
It is my misfortune if I give offence by these remarks. I
cannot assume emotions 1 do not feel, and must describe Jeru-
salem as I found it. Since being here, I have read the
accounts of several travellers, and in many cases the devotional
rhapsodies — the ecstacies of awe and reverence — in which they
indulge, strike me as forced and affected. The pious writers
hare described what was expected of them, not what they
found. It was partly from reading such accounts that my
anticipations were raised too high, for the view of the city
'rom the Jaffa road and the panorama from the Mount of Olives
ore the only things wherein I have been pleasantly disappointed
86 THE LANDS OF THE SABACEN
By far the most interesting relic left to the city is the foun
dation wall of Solomon's Temple. The Mosque of Omar,
according to the accounts of the Turks, and Mr. Catherwood's
examination, rests on immense vaults, which are believed to be
the substructions of the Temple itself. Under the dome of the
mosque there is a large mass of natural rock, revered by the
Moslems as that from which Mahomet mounted the beast
Borak when he visited the Seven Heavens, and believed by
Mr. Catherwood to have served as part of the foundation of
the Holy of Holies. No Christian is allowed to enter the
mosque, or even its enclosure, on penalty of death, and even
the firman of the Sultan has failed to obtain admission for a
Frank. I have been strongly tempted to make the attempt in
my Egyptian dress, which happens to resemble that of a
moUah or Moslem priest, but the Dervishes in the adjoining
college have sharp eyes, and my pronunciation of Arabic
would betray me in case I was accosted. I even went so far
as to buy a string of the large beads usually carried by a mol-
lah, but unluckily I do not know the Moslem form of prayer,
or I might carry out the plan under the guise of religious
abstraction. This morning we succeeded in getting a nearer
view of the mosque from the roof of the Governor's palace.
Francois, by assuming the character of a Turkish cawass,
gained us admission. The roof overlooks the entire enclosure
of the Haram, and gives a complete view of the exterior of
the mosque and the paved court surrounding it. There is no
regularity in the style of the buildings in the enclosure, but the
general effect is highly picturesque. The great dome of the
mosque is the grandest in all the Orient, but the body of the
«diflce, made to resemble an octagonal tent, and covered with
THE MOSQUE OF OMAK. 8?
blue and white tiles, is not high enough to do it justice. The
first court is paved with marble, and has four porticoes, each of
five light Saracenic arches, opening into the green park, which
occupies the rest of the terrace. This park is studded with
cypress and fig trees, and dotted all over with the tombs of
ehekhs. As we were looking down on the spacious area,
behold I who should come along hut Shekh Mohammed Senoi*-
see, the holy man of Timbuctoo, who had laid off his scarlet
robe and donned a green one. I called down to him, where-
upon he looked up and recognised us. For this reason I regret
our departure from Jerusalem, as I am sure a little persuasion
would induce the holy man to accompany me within the
mosque.
We leave to-morrow for Damascus, by way of Nazareth and
Tiberius. My original plan was to have gone to Djerash, the
ancient Geraza, in the land of Gilead, and thence to Bozrah,
in Djebel Hauaran. But Djebel Adjeloun, as the country
about Djerash is called, is under a powerful Bedouin shekh,
named Abd-el Azeez, and without an escort from him, which
involves considerable delay and a fee of $150, it would be
impossible to make the journey. We are therefore restricted
to the ordinary route, and in case we should meet with any
difficulty by the way, Mr. Smith, the American Consul, who ia
now here, has kindly procured us a firman from the Pasha ot
Jerusalem. All the travellers here are making preparations to
eave, but there are still two parties in the Desert.
88 THE LANDS OF THE RARACBK.
CHAPTER VI.
IHE HILL-COUNTRY OF PALESTINK.
l*«TinR J iruMlem— The Tombs of the Kings— El Blreh— The Hlll-Countiy— First
View of Mount Hermon — The Tomb of Joseph — Ebal and Gerlzim — The Oai'dcna of
Nablous — The Samaritans — The Sacred Book — A Scene in the Synagogue — Mentoi
and Telemachus — Ride to Samaria — The Ruins of Sebaste — Scriptural Landscapes-
Halt at Genln — The Plain of Esdraelon — Palestine and California — ^The Hills of
Naeareth — Accident — Fra Joachim — The Church of the Virgin —The Shrine of the
Annunciation — ^The Holy Places.
" Blest land of Judea ! thrice hallowed of song,
Where the holiest of memories pilgrim-like throng:
In the shade of thy palms, by the shores of thy sea,
On the hills of thy beauty, my lieart is with thee ! "
J. G. Whittieh.
Li TIN COKTEKT, Nasakbth, I'ridaj/, May 7, 1852.
We left Jerusalem by the Jaffa Gate, because within a few
months neither travellers nor baggage are allowed to pass the
Damascus Gate, on account of smuggling operations having
been carried on there. Not far from the city wall there is a
superb terebinth tree, now in the full glory of Its shining green
leaves. It appears to be bathed in a perpetual dew ; the
rounded masses of foliage sparkle and glitter in the light, and
tho great spreading boughs flood the turf below with a deluge
of delicious shade. A number of persons were reclining on iho
grass under it, and one of them, a very handsome Christian
boy, spoke to us in Italian and English. I scarcely remembei
THE TOMBS OF THE .KINftS. - 89
a brighter and purer day than that of onr departure. The
sky was a sheet of spotless blue ; every rift and scar of the
distant hills was retouched with a firmer pencil, and all the
outlines, blurred away by the haze of the previous few days,
were restored with wonderful distinctness. The temperature
was hot, but not sultry, and the air we breathed was an elixir
of immortality.
Through a luxuriant olive grove we reached the Tombs of
the Kings, situated in a small valley to the north of the city.
Part of the valley, if not the whole of it, has been formed by
quarrying away the crags of marble and conglomerate lime-
stone for building the city. Near the edge of the low cliffs
overhanging it, there are some illustrations of the ancient mode
of cutting stone, which, as well as the custom of excavating
tombs in the rock, was evidently borrowed from Egypt. The
upper surface of the rocks was first made smooth, after which
the blocks were mapped out and cut apart by grooves chiselled
between them. I visited four or five tombs, each of which
had a sort of vestibule or open portico in front. The door
was low, and the chambers which I entered, small and black,
without sculptures of any kind. The tombs bear some resem-
blance in their general plan to those of Thebes, except that
they are without ornaments, either sculptured or painted.
There are fragments of sarcophagi in some of them. On the
southern side of the valley is a large quarry, evidently worked
for marble, as the blocks have been cut out from below,
leaving a large overhanging mass, part of which has broken
off and fallen down. Some pieces which I picked up were of a
very fine white marble, somewhat resembling that of Carrara
Vlie opeuiug of the quarry made a striking picture, the sofl
00 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
pink huo of tlie vreather^stained rock contrasting exquigitelj
with the vivid green of the vines festooning the entrance.
From the long hill beyond the Tombs, we took onr last view
of Jerusalem, far beyond whose walls I saw the Church of the
Nativity, at Bethlehem. The Jewish synagogue on the top of
the mountain called Nebbee Samwil, the highest peak in Pales-
tine, was visible at some distance to the west. Notwithstand-
ing its sanctity, I felt little regret at leaving Jerusalem, and
cheerfully took the rough road northward, over the stony hills.
There wore few habitations in sight, yet the hill-sides were
cultivated, wherever it was possible for anything to grow.
The wheat was just coming into head, and the people were at
work, planting maize. After four hours' ride, we reached El
Bireh, a little village on a hill, with the ruins of a convent and
a large khan. The place takes its name from a fountain of
excellent water, beside which we found our tents already
pitched. In the evening, two Englishmen, ail ancient Mentor,
with a wild young Telemachus in charge, arrived, and camped
near us. The night was calm and cool, and the full moon
poured a flood of light over the bare and silent hills.
We rose long before sunrise, and rode off in the brilliant
morning — the sky unstained by a speck of vapor. In the
valley, beyond Bl Bireh, the husbandmen were already at their
ploughs, and the village boys were on their way to the uncul-
tured parts of the hills, with their flocks of sheep and goats.
'J'te valley terminated in a deen gorge, with perpendicular
walls of rock on either side. Our road mounted the hill on
ohe eastern side, and followed the brink of the precipice
through the pass, where an enchanting landscape opened upon
us. The village of Yebrood crowned a hill which rose oppo
THE HILL-COUNTRY. 91
Bite, and the monntain slopes leaning towards it on all sidea
were covered with orchards of fig trees, and either rustling
with wheat or cleanly ploughed for maize. The soil was a dark
brown loam, and very rich. The stones have been laboriously
built into terraces ; and, even where heavy rocky boulder?
almost hid the soil, young fig and olive trees were planted in
the crevices between them. I have never seen more thorough
and patient cultivation. In the crystal of the morning aii',
the very hills laughed with plenty, and the whole landscape
beamed with the signs of gladness on its countenance.
The site of ancient Bethel was not far to the right of our
road. Over hills laden with the olive, fig, and vine, we passed
to Ain el-Haramiyeh, or the Fountain of the Robbers. Here
there are tombs cut in the rock on both sides of the valley.
Over auother ridge, we descended to a large, bowl-shaped
valley, entirely covered with wheat, and opening eastward
towards the Jordan. Thence to Nablons (the Shechem of the
Old and Sychar of the New Testament) is four hours through
a winding dell of the richest harvest land. On the way, we
first caught sight of the snowy top of Mount Hermon, distant
at least eighty miles in a straight line. Before reaching
Nablous, I stopped to drink at a fountain of clear and sweel;
water, beside a square pile of masonry, upon which sat two
Moslem dervishes. This, we were told, was the Tomb of
Joseph, whose body, after having accompanied the Israelites
in all their wanderings, was at last deposited near Shechem.
There is less reason to doubt this spot than rn Dst of the sacred
places of Palestine, for the reason that it rests, not on Chris-
tian, but on Jewish tradition. The wonderful tenacity with
which the Jews cling to every record or memento of their earlj
92 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACEN.
history, and the fact that from the time of Joseph a portion of
them have always lingered near the spot, render it highly
probable that the locality of a spot so sacred should have been
preserved from generation to generation to the present time.
It has been recently proposed to open this tomb, by digging
under it from the side. If the body of Joseph was actually
deposited here, there are, no doubt, some traces of it remaining.
It must have been embalmed, according to the Egyptian cus-
tom, and placed in a coffin of the Indian sycamore, the wood
of which is so nearly incorruptible, that thirty-five centuries
would not suffice for its decomposition. The singular interest
of such a discovery would certainly justify the experiment.
Not far from the tomb is Jacob's Well, where Christ met the
Woman of Samaria. This place is also considered as authen
tic, for the same reasons. If not wholly convincing to all,
there is, at least, so much probability in them that one is freed
from that painful coldness and incredulity with which he
oeholds the sacred shows of Jerusalem.
Leaving the Tomb of Joseph, the road turned to the west,
and entered the narrow pass between Mounts Ebal and Geri-
zim. The former is a steep, barren peak, clothed with terraces
of cactus, standing on the northern side of the pass. Mount
Gerizira is cultivated nearly to the top, and is truly a moun-
tain of blessing, compared with j'^^s neighbor. Through an
orchard of grand old olive-trees, we reached Nablous, which
presented a charming picture, with its long mass of white,
dome-topped stone houses, stretching along the foot of Gerizim
through a sea of bowery orchards. The bottom of the valley
resembles some old garden run to waste. Abundant streams,
poured from the generous heart of the Mount of Blessing, leaf
NABLOCS. 93
and gurgle with pleasant noises through thickets of orange,
fig, and pomegranate, through bowers of roses and tangled
masses of briars and wild vines. We halted in a grove of
olives, and, after our tent was pitched, walked upward through
the orchards to the Ras-el-Ain (Promontory of the Fountain),
or. the side of Mount Gerizim. A multitude of beggars sat
at the city gate ; and, as they continued to clamor after I had
given sufficient alms, I paid them with "Allah deekk!" — (God
give it to you 1) — the Moslem's reply to such importunity —
and they ceased in an instant. This exclamation, it seems,
takes away from them the power of demanding a second
time.
Prom under the Ras-el-Ain gushes forth the Pountain of
Honey, so called from the sweetness and purity of the water.
We drank of it, and I found the taste very agreeable, but my
companion declared that it had an unpleasant woolly flavor.
When we climbed a little higher, we found that the true source
from which the fountain is supplied was above, and that an
A.rab was washing a flock of sheep in it 1 We continued our
walk along the side of the mountain to the other end of the
sity, through gardens of almond, apricot, prune, and walnut-
trees, bound each to each by great vines, whose heavy arms
they seemed barely able to support. The interior of the town
is dark and filthy; but it has a long, busy bazaar extending
its whole length, and a cafe, where we procured the best
coffee in Syria.
Nablous is noted for the existence of a small remnant of the
ancient Samaritans. The stock has gradually dwindled away,
and amounts to only forty families, containing little more than
a hundred and fifty individuals. They live in a particulai
04
THE LANDS OP THE SARACEW.
quarter of the city, and are easily distinguished froia the otlier
inhabitants by the cast of their features. After our guide, a
native of Nablous, had pointed out three or four, I had uo
difficulty in recognising all the others we met. They have
long, but not prominent noses, like the J^ws ; small, oblong
eyes, narrow lips, and fair complexions, most of them having
brown hair. They appear to be held in considerable obloquy
by the Moslems. Our attendant, who was of the low class of
Arabs, took the boys we met very unceremoniously by the
head, calling out : " Here is another Samaritan !" He then
conducted us to their synagogue, to see the celebrated Penta-
teuch, which is there preserved. We were taken to a small,
open court, shaded by an apricot-tree, where the priest, an old
man in a green robe and white turban, was seated in medita-
tion. He had a long grey beard, and black eyes, that lighted
up with a sudden expression of eager greed when we promised
him backsheesh for a sight of the sacred book. He arose and
took us into a sort of chapel, followed by a number of Samari-
tan boys. Kneeling down at a niche, in the wall, he produced
from behind a wooden case a piece of ragged parchment, writ-
ten with Hebrew characters. But the guide was familiar with
this deception, and rated him so soundly that, after a little
hesitation, he laid the fragment away, and produced a large tin
cylinder, covered with a piece of green satin embroidered in
gold. The boys stooped down and reverently kissed the
blazoned cover, before it was removed. The cylinder, sliding
open by two rows of hinges, opened at the same time the
parchment scroll, which was rolled at both ends. Jt was,
indeed, a very ancient manuscript, and in remar'table preserva-
tion. The rents have been carefully repaired and the scoll
A SCENE IN THE SYNAGOGUE. 9ft
neatly stitched upon another piece of parchment, covered on
the outside with violet satin. The priest informed me that it
was written by the son of Aaron ; but this does not coincide
with the fact that tlie Samaritan Pentateuch is different from
tliat of the Jews. It is, however, no doubt one of the oldest
parchment records in the world, and thf Samaritans look upon
it with unbounded faith and reverence. The Pentate'uch,
according to their version, contains their only form of religion.
They reject everything else which the Old Testament contains.
Three or four days ago was their grand feast of sacrifice, when
they made a burnt offering of a lamb, on the top of Mount
Gerizim. Within a short time, it is said they have shown
some curiosity to become acquainted with the New Testament,
and the High Priest sent to Jerusalem to procure Arable
copies.
I asked one of the wild-eyed boys whetlier he could read the
sacred book. " Oh, yes," said tlie priest, " all these boys can
read it ;" and the one I addressed immediately pulled a volume
from his breast, and commenced reading in fluent Hebrew. It
appeared to be a part of their church service, for both the
priest and hoab, or door-keeper, kept up a running series of
responses, and occasionally the whole crowd sJiouted out some
deep-mouthed word in chorus. The old man leaned forward
with an expression as fixed and intense as if the text had
become incarnate iu him, following with his lips the sound of
the boy's voice. It was a strange picture of religious enthu-
siasm, and was of itself sufficient to convince me of the legiti-
macy of the Samaritan's descent. When I rose to leave I ^,aTe
liim the promised fee, and a smaller one to the boy who read
the service. This was the signal for a general attack from the
Jj6 the lands of the SARACEN.
door-keeper and all the boys who were present. The; sur-
rounded me with eyes sparkling with the desire of gain, kissed
thq border of my jacket, stroked my beard coaxingly with their
hands, which they then kissed, and, crowding up with a bois
terous show of aiTection, were about to fall on my neck in a
heap, after the old Hebrew fashion. The priest, clamorous for
more, followed with glowing face, and the whole group had a
riotous and bacchanalian character, which I should never have
imagined could spring from such a passion as avarice.
On returning to our camp, we found Mentor and Telemachns
arrived, but not on such friendly terras as their Greek proto-
types. We were kept awake for a long time that night I)j
their high words, and the first sound I heard the next morning
came from their tent. Telemaehus, I suspect, had found some
island of Calypso, and did not relish the cold shock of the
plunge into the sea, by which Mentor had forced him away.
He insisted on returning to Jerusalem, but as Mentor would
not allow him a horse, he had not the courage to try it on foot.
After a series of altercations, in which he took a pistol to
shoot the dragoman, and applied very profane terms to every
body in the company, his wrath dissolved into tears, and when
we left. Mentor had decided to rest a day at Nablous, and let
him recover from the effects of the storm.
We rode down the beautiful valley, taking the road to
Sebaste (Samaria), while our luggage-mules kept directly ovei
the mountains to Jenin. Our path at first followed the course
of the stream, between turfy banks and through luxuriant
orchards. The whole country we overlooked was planted with
olive-trees, and, except the very summits of the mountains,
oovered with grain-fields. For iwo hours our course was
THE RUINS OF SAMARIA. 91
north-east, leading over the hills, and now and then dipping iutn
beautiful dells. In one of these a large stream gushes I'roru
the earth in a full fountain, at the foot of a great olive-tree.
The hill-side above it was a complete mass of foliage, crowned
with the white walls of a Syrian village. Descending the val-
ley, which is very deep, we came in sight of Samaria, situated
on the ' summit of an isolnted hill. The sanctuary of the
ancient Christian church of St. John towers high above the
mud walls of the modern village. Riding between olive-
orchards and wheat-fields of glorious richness and beauty, we
passed the remains of an acqueduct, and ascended the hill
The ruins of the church occupy the eastern summit. Part of
them have been converted into a mosque, which the Christian
foot is not allowed to profane. The church, which is in the
Byzantine style, is "apparently of the time of the Crusaders.
It had originally a central and two side-aisles, covered with
groined Gothic vaults. The sanctuary is semi-circular, with a
row of small arches, supported by double pillars. The church
rests on the foundations of some much more ancient building —
probably a temple belonging to the Roman city.
' Behind the modern village, the hill terminates in a long,
fliptical mound, about one-third of a mile in length. We
made the tour of it, and were surprised at finding a large
number of columns, each of a single piece of marble. They
had once formed a double colonnade, extending from the
church to a gate on the western side of the summit. Our
nail ye guide said they had been covered with an arch, and
constituted a long market or bazaar — a supposition in which he
may be correct. From the gate, which is still distinctly
marked, we ovcrltfoked several deep valleys to the west, and
5
98 THE LANDS Of THE SAKACEN.
over them all, the bine horizon of the Mediterranean, south ol
Caesarea. On the northern side of the hill there are upwards
of twenty more pillars standing, besides a number hurled
down, and the remains of a quadrangular colonnade, on the
side of the hill below. The total number of pillars on the
summit cannot be less than one hundred, from twelve to
eighteen feet in height. The hill is strewn, even to its base,
with large hewn blocks and fragments of sculptured stone.
The present name of the city was given to it by Herod, and it
must have been at that time a most stately and beautiful
place.
We descended to a valley on the east, climbed a long
ascent, and after crossing the broad shoulder of a mountain
beyond, saw below us a landscape even more magnificent than
that of Nablous. It was a great winding valley, its bottom
rolling in waves of wheat and barley, while every hill-side, np
to the bare rock, was mantled with groves of olive. The very
summits which looked into this garden of Israel, were greeu
with fragrant plants — wild thyme and sage, giiaphalium and
camomile. Away to the west was the sea, and in the north*
west the mouhtain chain of Oarmel. We went down to the
gardens and pasture-land, and stopped to rest at the Village
of Geba, which bangs on the side of the mountain. A spring
of whitish but delicious water gushed out of the soil, in the
midst of a fig orchard. The women passed us, going back and
forth with tall water-jars on their heads. Some herd-boyi
brought down a flock of black goats, and they were all given
drink in a large wooden bowl. They were beautiful animals,
frith thick curved horns, white eyes, and ears a foot long. It
Was a truly Biblica,l picture in every feature.
.'»»«I.RSTINE AND , CALIFORNIA. - 99
;t Beyond this valley We ipassed a circular basin, which has no
outlet, so that in winter the bottom of it must be a lake.
After winding among the hills an hour more, we came out upon
the town of Jeniu, a Turkish village, with a tail white minaret,
at the head of the great plain of Esdraelon. It is supposed to
be the ancient Jezreel, whei*e the termagant Jezebel was
thrown out of the. window. We pitched our tent in a garden
near the town, under a beautiful mulberry tree, and, as the
place is in very bad repute, engaged a man to keep guard at
night. An English family was robbed there two or three
weeks ago. Our guard did his duty well, pacing, back and
forth, and occasionally grounding his musket to keep up. his
courage by the sound. In the evening, Frangois caught a
vi:hameleoii, a droll-looking little creature, which changed color
in a marvellous manner. '
Our road, next day, lay 'directly across the Plain of lEsdrae-
Ion, one of the richest districts in the world. It is now a
green sea, covered with fields of wheat and barley, or great
-grazing tracts, on which multitudes of sheep and goats are
wandering. In some respects it reminded me of the Valley
of San Jose, and if I were to liken Palestine to any other
country I have seen, it would be California. The climate and
succession of the seasons are the same, the soil is very similar
in quality, and the. landscapes present the same general
features. Here, in spring, the plains are covered with that
deluge of floral bloom, which makes California seem a paradise.
Here there are the same picturesque groves, the same rank
fields of wild oats clothing the mountain-sides, the same
aromatic herbs impregnating the air with balm, and above all,
the same blue, cloudless days and dewless nights. While
100 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
travelling here, I am constantly reminded of our new Syria on
tbe Pacific.
Towards noon, Mount Tabor separated itself from the chain
of hills before ns, and stood out singly, at the oxtremity of the
plain. We watered our horses at a spring in a swamp, were
some women were collected, beating with sticks the rashes
they had gathered to make mats. After reaching the moun-
tains on the northern side of the plain, an ascent of an hour
and arhalf, through a narrow glen, brought us to Nazareth,
which is situated in a cul-de-sac, under the highest peaks of
the range. As we were passing a rocky part of the road,
Mr. Harrison's horse fell with him and severely injured his
leg. We were fortunately near our destination, and on reach-
the Latin Convent, Fra Joachim, to whose surgical abilities
the traveller's book bore witness, took him in charge. Many
others besides ourselves have had reason to be thankful for the
good offices of the Latin monks in Palestine. I have never
met with a class more kind, cordial, and genial. All the
convents arc bound to take in and entertain all applicants —
of whatever creed or nation — ^for the space of three days.
In the afternoon, Fra Joachim accompanied me to the
Church of the Virgin, which is inclosed within the walls of the
convent. It is built over the supposed site of the house in
which the mother of Christ was living, at the time of the
angelic annunciation. Under the high altar, a flight of steps
leads down to the shrine of the Virgin, on the threshold of the
house, where the Angel Gabriel's foot rested, as he stood, witli
a lily in his hand, announcing the miraculous conception. The
shrine, of white marble and gold, gleaming in the light of
golden lamps, stands under a rough arch of the natural rodt|
THE SHRINE OF THE ANNUNCIATION, 101
from the side of which hangs a heavy fragment of a granite
pillar, suspended, as the devout believe, by divine power. Fra
Joachim informed me that, when the Moslems attempted to
obliterate all tokens of the holy place, this pillar was preserved
by a miracle, that the locality might not be lost to the Chris-
tians. At the same time, he said, the angels of God carried
away the wooden house which stood at the entrance of the
grotto ; and, after letting it drop in Marseilles, while they
rested, picked it up again and set it down in Loretto, where it
still remains. As he said this, there was such entire, absolute
belief in the good monk's eyes, and such happiness in that
belief, that not for ten times the gold on the shrine would I
Lave expressed a doubt of the story. He then bade me kneel,
that I might see the spot where the angel stood, and devoutly
repeated a paternoster while I contemplated the pure plate of
snowy marble, ' surrounded with vases of fragrant flowers,
between which hung cressets of gold, wherein perfumed oils
were burning. All the decorations of the place conveyed the
idea of transcendent purity and sweetness ; and, for the first
time in Palestine, I wished for perfect faith in the spot. Behind
the shrine, there are two or three chambers in the rock, which
served as habitations for the family of the Virgin.
A young Christian Nazarene afterwards conducted me to
the House of Joseph, the Carpenter, which is now inclosed in
a little chapel. It is merely a fragment of wall, undoubtedly
as old as the time of Christ, and I felt willing to consider it a
genuine relie. There was an honest roughness about the large
stones, inclosing a small room called the carpenter's shop,
which I could not find it in my heart to doubt. Besides, in a
quiet country ''.own like Nazareth, which has never knowc
; 102 THK LANDS OF THE SARAOEIT. , ;
snch vicissitudes as Jerusdem, much more depeiidenearance here last evening, in long, white
132 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
fthas, with the Bedouin ktffiz bound over their heads, theii
faces burnt, their eyes inflamed, and their frames feverish with,
seven days and nights of travel. The shekh who conducted
them was not an Aneyzeh, and would have lost his life had
they falleD in with any of that tribe.
THE VISIONS OF HASHEESH. 133
CHAPTER X.
THE VISIONS OF HASHEESH.
" Exulting, trembling, raging, faittting,
Possessed beyobd tbc Muse's painting."
C0U.IK9.
During my stay in Damascus, that insatiable cariosity which
leads me to prefer the acquisition of all lawful knowledge
through the channels of my own personal experience, rather
than in less satisfactory and less laborious ways, induced me to
make a trial of the celebrated Hasheesh — that remarkable drug
which supplies the luxurious Syrian with dreams more alluring
and more gorgeous than the Chinese extracts from his darling
opium pipe. The use of Hasheesh — which is a preparation of
the dried leaves of the cannabis indka— has been familiar to
the East for many centuries. During the Crusades, it was
frequently used by the Saracen warriors to stimulate them to
the work of slaughter, and from the Arabic term of " Hasha-
sheen," or Eaters of Hasheesh, as applied to them, the word
" assassin " has been naturally derived. An infusion of the
name plant gives to the drink called " hhang" which is in com-
mon use throughout India and Malaysia, its peculiar properties.
Thus prepared, it is a more fierce and faial stimulant than the
paste of sugar and Spices to which the Turk resorts, as the
food of his voluptuous evening reveries. While its immediatft
'effects seem to be more potent than those, of opium, it4
134 THE LANPS OF THE SABACEII.
habitual use, though attended with ultimate and permanent
injury to the system, rarely results in such utter wreck ot
mind and body as that to which the votaries of the latter drug
inevitably condemn themselves.
A previous experience of the effects of hasheesh — which I
look once, and in a very mild form, while in Egypt — was so
peculiar in its character, that ray curiosity, instead of being
satisfied, only prompted me the more to throw myself, for once,
wholly under its iiifluence. The sensations it then produced
were those, physically, of exquisite lightness and airiness —
mentally, of a wonderfully keen perception of the ludicrous, in
the most simple and familiar objects. During the half hour in
which it lasted, I was at no time so far under its control, that
I could not, with the clearest pereeption, study the changes
through which I passed. I noted, with careful attention, the
fine sensations which spread throughout the whole tissue of my
nervous fibre, each thrill helping to divest my frame of its
earthy and material nature, until my substance appeared to
me no grosser than the vapors of the atmosphere, and while
sitting in the calm of the Egyptian twilight, I expected to be
lifted up and carried away by the first breeze that should ruffle
the Nile. While this process was going on, the objects by
which I was surrounded assumed a strange and whimsical
expression. My pipe, the oars which my boatmen plied, the
turban worn by the captain, the water-jars and culinary imple-
ments, became in themselves so inexpressibly absurd and com-
ical, that I was provoked into a long fit of laughter. The
hallucination died away as gradually as it came, leaving nie
overcome with a soft and pleasant drowsiness from which I
sank into a deep, refreshing sleep.
THE VISIOVS OF HASHEESH 135
My companion and an English gentleman, who, with his
nrifc, was also residing in Antonio's pleasant caravanserai — i
agreed to join me in the experiment. The dragoman of the
latter was deputed to procure a sufficient quantity of the drug,
He was a dark Egyptian, speaking only the lingua franca of
the East, and asked me, as he took the money and departed
on his mission, whether he should get hasheesh "per ridere, o
per dormire 1" " Oh, per ridere, of course," I answered ; " and
Bee that it be strong and fresh." It is customary with the
Syrians to take a small portion immediately before the evening
meal, as it is thus diffused through the stomach and acts more
gradually, as well as more gently, upon the system. As our
dinner-hour was at sunset, I proposed taking- hasheesh at that
time, but my friends, fearing that its operation might be more
speedy upon fresh subjects, and thus betray them into some
absurdity in the presence of the other travellers, preferred
waiting until after the meal. It was then agreed that we
should retire to our room, which, as it rose like a tower one
story higher than the rest of the building, was in a manner
isolated, and would screen us from observation.
We commenced by taking a tea-spoonful each of the mixture
which Abdallah had procured. This was about the quantity I
had taken in Egypt, and as the effect then had been so slight,
I judged that we ran no risk of taking an over-dose. The
strength of the drug, however, must have been far greater in
this instance, for whereas I could in the former case distinguish
no flavor but that of sugar and rose leaves, I now found the
taste intensely bi' ter and repulsive to the palate. We allowed
the paste to dissolve slowly on our tongues, and sat some time,
q[uietly waiting the result. But, having been taken upon o
IS6 THE J,A}fiiS OF THE SARAOE(f.
full stomach, its operation was hindered, and after the lapse
of nearly an hoar, we could not detect the least change in our
feelings. My friends loudly expressed their conviction of the
humbug of hasheesh, but I, unwilling to give up the experi-
mont at this point, proposed that we should take an additional
half spoonful, and follow it with a cup of hot tea,, which, if
there were really any virtue in. the preparation, could not fail
to call it into action. This was done, though not without
some misgivings, as we were all ignorant of the precipe quan-
tity which constituted a dose, and the limits within whiqh the
drug could be taken with safety. It was now ten o'clock ; the
streets of Damascus were gradually beconiiug silent, and the
fair city was bathed in the yellow lustre of the Syrian moon.
Only in the marble court-yard below us, a few dragomen and
mukkairee lingered under the lemon-trees, and beside the foun-
tain in the centre.
I was seated alone, nearly in the middle of the room, talking
with my friends, who were lounging upon a sofa placed in a
sort of alcove, at the farther end, when the same fine nervous
thrill, of which I have spoken, suddenly shot through me.
But this time it was accompanied with a burning sensation at
the pit of the stomach ; and, instead of growing upon me with
the gradual pace of healthy slumber, and resolving me, as
before, into air, it came with the intensity of a pang, and shot
throbbing along the nerves to the extremities of my body. The
sense of limitation — of the confinement of our senses within
the bounds of our own flesh and blood — instantly fell away.
The walls of my frame were burst outward and tumbled into
ruin ; and, without thinking what form I wore — losing sight
even of all ideq, of form — I felt that I existed throughout «
THE VISIONS Of HASHEESH 137
vast exteut of space. The blood, pulsed from my heart, sped
through uncounted leagues before it reached my extremities ,
the air drawn into my lungs expanded into seas of limpid
ether, and the arch of my skull was broader than the vault of
heaven. Within the concave that held my brain, were the
fathomless deeps of blue ; clouds floated there, and the winds
of heaven rolled them together, and there shone the orb of the
sun It was — though I thought not of that at the time — like-
a revelation of the mystery of omnipresence. It is diffcult to
describe this sensation, or the rapidity with which it mastered
me. In the state of mental exaltation in which I was then
plunged,. all sensations, as they rose, suggested more or less
coherent images. They presented themselves to me in a double
form : one physical, and therefore to a certain extent tangible ;
the other spiritual, and revealing itself in a succession of splen-
did metaphors. The physical feeling of extended being was
accompanied by the image of an exploding meteor, not sub-
siding into darkness, but continuing to shoot from its centre or
nucleus — which corresponded- to the burning spot at the pit of
my stomach — incessant adumbrations of light that finally lost
themselves in the infinity of space. To my mind,, even now,
this image is still the best illustration of my sensations, as I
recall them ; but I greatly doubt whether the reader will find
it equally clear.
My curiosity was now in a way of being satisfied ; the
Spirit (demon, shall I not rather say ?) of Hasheesh had entire
possession of me. I was cast upon the flood of his illusions, and
drifted helplessly whithersoever they might choose to bear me
The thrills which ran through my nervous system became more
rapid aud fierce, accompanied with sensations that steeped mji
138 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
whole being in unutterable rapture. I was encompassed by &
sea of liglit, through which played the pure, harmonious colors
that are born of light. While endeavoring, in broken expres-
sions, to describe my feelings to. my friends, who sat looking
upon me incredulously — not yet having been affected by the
drug — I suddenly found myself at the foot of the great Pyrar
mid of Cheops. The tapering courses of yellow limestone
gleamed like gold in the sun, and the pile rose so high that it
seemed to lean for support upon the blue arch of the sky. 1
wished to ascend it, and the wish alone placed me immediately
npon its apex, lifted thousands of feet above the wheat-fields
and palm groves of Egypt. I cast my eyes downward, and,
to my astonishment, saw that it was built, not of limestone,
but of huge square plugs of Cavendish tobacco ! Words can-
not paint the overwhelming sense of the ludicrous which I
then experienced. I writhed on my chair in an agony of
laughter, which was only relieved by the vision melting away
like a dissolving view ; till, out of my confusion of indistinct
images and fragments of images, another and more wonderful
vision arose.
The more vividly I recall the scene which followed, the more
carefully I restore its different features, and separate the many
threads of sensation which it wove into one gorgeous web, the
more I despair of representing its exceeding glory. I was
moving over the Desert, not upon the rocking dromedary, but
seated in a barque made of mother-of-pearl, and studded with
jewels of surpassing lustre. The sand was of grains of gold,
and my keel slid through them without jar or sound. The air
was radiant with excess of light, though no sun was to be seen.
1 inhaled the most dclicions perfumes ; and harmonies, such oa
THE VISIONS OF HASHEESH. 139
BoethoTen may hare heard in dreams, but never wrote, floated
around me. The atmosphere itself was light, odor, music ;
and eacli and all sublimated beyond anything the sober senses
are capable of receiving. Before me — for a thousand leagues,
as it seemed — stretched a vista of rainbows, whose color^
gleamed with the splendor of gems — arches of living amethyst,
sapphire, emerald, topaz, and ruby. By thousands and tens
of thousands, they flew past me, as my dazzling barge sped
down the magnificent arcade ; yet the vista still stretched as
far as ever before me. I revelled in a sensuous elysinm, which
was perfect, because no sense was left ungratified. But beyond
all, my mind was filled with a boundless feeling of triumph.
My journey was that of a conqueror — not of a conqueror who
subdues his race, either by Love or by Will, for I forgot that
Man existed — but one victorious over the grandest as well aa
the subtlest forces of Nature. The spirits of Light, Color,
Odor, Sound, and Motion were my slaves ; and, having these,
I was master of the universe.
Those who are endowed to any extent with the imaginative
faculty, must have at least once in their lives experienced feel-
ings which may give them a clue to the exalted sensuous
raptures of my triumphal march. The view -of a sublime
mountain landscape, the hearing of a grand orchestral sym-
phony, or of a choral upborne by the " full-voiced organ," or
even the beauty and luxury of a cloudless summer day, sug-
gests emotions similar in kind, if less intense. They took a
warmth and glow from that pure animal joy which degrades
not, but spiritualizes and ennobles our material part, and
which differs from cold, abstract, intellectual enjoyment, as the
flajning diamond of the Orient differs from the iciclo of the
1 40 THE LAStS OF THE SARACEN.
North. Those finer senses, which occupy a middle ground
between our animal and intellectual appetites, were suddenly
developed to a pitch beyond what I had ever dreamed, and
being thus at one and the same time gratified to, the fullest
extent of their preternatural capacity, the result was a single
harmonious sensation, to describe which human language has
no epithet. Mahomet's Paradise, with its palaces of ruby and
emerald, its airs of musk and cassia, and its rivers colder than
snow and sweeter than honey, would have been a poor and
moan terminus for my arcade of rainbows. Yet in the charac-
ter of this paradise, in the gorgeous fancies of the Arabian
Kights, in the glow and luxury of all Oriental poetry, I now
recognize more or less of the agency of hasheesh.
The fulness of my rapture expanded the sense of time ; and
though the whole vision was probably not more than five
minutes in passing through my mind, years seemed to have
elapsed while I shot under the dazzling myriads of rainbow
arches. By and by, the raiubows, the barque of pearl and
jewels, and the desert of golden sand, vanished ; and, still
bathed in light and perfume, I found myself in a laud of greeu
and flowery lawns, divided by hills of gently undulating out-
line. But, although the vegetation was the richest of earth,
there were neither si-cams nor fountains to be seen ; and the
people who came from the hills, with brilliant garments that
shone in the sun, besought me to give them the blessing of
water. Their hands were full of branches of the coral honey*
Buckle, in bloom. These I took ; and, breaking off the flowers
one by one, set them in the earth. The slender, trumpet-like
tubes immediately became shafts of masonry, and sank deep
luto the earth ; the lip of the flower changed into a circular
THE VISIONS OF HASHEESH.
lit
mouth of rose-colored marble, and the people, leaning over its
brink, lowered their pitchers to the bottom with cords, and
drew them up again, filled to the brim, and dripping with'
honey.
The most remarkable feature of these illusions was, that at
the time when I was most completely under their influence, I
knew niyself to be seated in the tower of Antonio's hotel in
Damascus, knew that I had taken hasheesh, and that the
strange, gorgeous and ludicrous fancies which possessed rae;
were the effect Of it. At the very same instant that I looked
upon the Valley of the Nile from the pyramid, slid over the
Desert, or created my marvellous wells in that beautiful pastoJ
ral country, I saw the furniture of my room, its mosaic pave-
ment, the quaint Saracenic niches in the walls, the painted and
gildfcd beams of the ceiling, and the couch in the recess before
me, with my two companions watching me. Both sensations
were simultaneous, and equally palpable. While I was most
given up to the magnificent delusion, I saw its cause and felt
its absurdity most clearly. Metaphysicians say that the mind
is incapable of performing two' operations at the same time;
and' may attempt to explain this phenomenon by supposing a
rapid and incessant vibration of the perceptions between the
two states. This explanation, however, is not satisfactory to
nie ; for not more clearly does a skilful musician with thd
game breath blow two distinct inusicat notes from a bugle, than
I was conscious of two distinct conditions of being in the same
moment. Yet, singular as it may seem, neither conflicted witk
the other. My enjoyment of the visions ■was complete and
absolute, undisturbed by the faintest doubt of their reality 5
while, in some other chamber of my brain, Keason sat coolly
142 THE LANDS OF THE &AEACEN.
watching them, and heaping the liveliest ridicule on their fan
tastic features. One set of nerves vt^as thrilled with the bliss
of the gods, while another was convulsed with unquenchablo
l&nghter at that very bliss. My highest ecstacips could noi
bear down and silence the weight of my ridicule, which, in its
turn, was powerless to prevent me from running into other and
more gorgeous absurdities. I was double, not "swan and
shadow," but rather, Sphinx-like, human and beast. A true
Sphinx, I was a riddle and a mystery to myself.
The drug, which had been retarded in its operation on
account of having been taken after a meal, now began tc
make itself more powerfully felt. The visions were more gro>
tesque than ever, but less agreeable ; and there was a painful
tension throughout my nervous system — the effect, of over-sti-
mulus. I was a mass of transparent jelly, and a confectioner
poured me into a twisted mould. I threw my chair aside, and
writhed and tortured myself for some time to force my loose
substance into the mould. At last, when I had so far suc-
ceeded that only one foot remained outside, it was lifted
off, and another mould, of still more crooked and intricate
shape, substituted. I have no doubt that the contortions tfarongb
which I iirent, to accomplish the end of my gelatinous destiny,
would have been extremely ludicrous to a spectator, but to me
they were painful and disagreeable. The sober half of. mo
went into fits of laughter over them, and through that laugh-
ter, my vision shifted into another scene. I had laughed until
my eyes pverflawed profusely. Every drop that fell, immedi-
ately became a large loaf of bread, and tumbled upon the
shop-board of a baker in the bazaar at Damascus. The more
I laughed, the faster the loaves fell, until such a pile wa?
THE VISIONS OF HASHEESH. ^48
raised about the baker, that I could hardly see the top of
his head. " The man will be suffocated," I cried, " but if he
were to die, I. cannot stop 1"
My pei'ceptions now became more dim and confused. I feit
that I was in the grasp of some giant force ; and, in the glim-
mering of my fading reason, grew earnestly alarmed, for the
terrible stress under which my frame labored increased every
moment. A fierce and furious heat radiated from my stomach
throughout my system ; my mouth and throat were as dry and
hard as if made of brass, and my tongue, it seemed to me, was a
bar of rusty iron. I seized a pitcher of water, and di'ank lona
and deeply ; but I might as well have drunk so much air, for not
only did it impart no moisture, but my palate and throat gave me
no intelligence of having drunk at all. I stood in the centre of
the room, brandishing my arms convulsively,, and heaving
sighs that seemed to shatter my whole being. " Will no
one," I cried in distress, " cast out this devil that has posses-
sion of me ?" I no longer saw the room nor my friends, but I
heard one of them saying, " It must be real ; he could not
counterfeit such an expression as that. But it don't look
much like pleasure." Immediately afterwards there was a
scream of the wildest laughter, and my countryman sprang
upon the floor, exclaiming, " 0, ye gods I I am a locomotive !"
This was his ruling hallucination ; and, for the space of two or
three hours, he continued to pace to and fro with a measured
stride, exhaling his breath in violent jets, and when he spoke,
dividing his words into syllables, each of which he brought oui
with a jerk, at the same time turning his hands at his sides, as
if they were the cranks of imaginary wheels The English-
man, as soon as he felt the dose beginning to take efTcct, pru
144 THE LANDS or THE 3ARACEIJr.
dently retreated to his own room, and what the natare cf hfa
visions was, we never learned, for he refused to tell, and,
moreover, enjoined the strictest silence on his wife.
By this time it was nearly midnight. I had passed through
the Paradise of Hasheesh, and was plunged at once into its
fiercest Hell. In my ignorance I had taken what, I have
since learned, would have been a sufficient portion for six men,
and was now paying a frightful penalty for my curiosity. The
excited blood rushed through my frame with a sound like the
roaring of mighty waters. It was projected into my eyes until
I could no longer see ; it beat thickly in my ears, and so
throbbed in my heart, that I feared the ribs would give way
under its blows. I tore open my vest, placed my hand over
the spot, and tried to count the pulsations ; out there were
two hearts, one beating at the rate of a thousand beats a
minute, and the other with a slow, dull motion. My throat,'!
thought, was filled to the brim with blood, and streams of
blood were pouring from my ears. I felt them gushing warm
down my cheeks and neck. With a maddened, desperate feel
ing, I fled from the room, and walked over the flat, terraced
roof of the house. My body seemed to shrink and grow rigid
as- 1 wrestled with the demon, and my face to become wild,
lean and haggard. Some lines which had struck me, years
before, in reading Mrs. Browning's " Rhyme of the Duchess
May," flashed into my mind : —
''And the horse, in stark despair, with his front hoofs poised in air,
On the last verge, rears amain ;
And he hangs, he rooks between — and his nostrils curdle in —
And he shivers, bead and hoof, and the flakes of foam fall off ;
And his face grows fierce and thin."
THE VISIONS OF HASHEESH. 145
That pictul'e of animal terror and agony was mine. I was the
horse, hanging poised on the verge of the giddy tower, the
next moment to be borne sheer down to destruction. Involun-
tarily, I raised my hand to feel the leanness and sharpness of
my face. Oh horror ! the flesh had fallen from my bones, and
it was a skeleton head that I carried on my shoulders ! With
one bound I sprang to the parapet, and looked down into the
silent courtyard, then filled with the shadows thrown into it by
the sinking moon. Shall I cast myself down headlong ? was
the question I proposed to myself ; but though the horror of
that skeleton delusion was greater than my fear of death, there
was an invisible hand at my breast which pushed me away from
the brink.
I made my way back to the room, in a state of the keenest
suffering. My companion was still a locomotive, rushing to
and fro, and jerking out his syllables with the disjointed accent
peculiar to a steam-engine. His mouth had turned to brass,
like mine, and he raised the pitcher to his lips in the attempt
to moisten it, but before he had taken a mouthful, set the
pitcher down again with a yell of laughter, crying out : "How
lan I take water into my boiler, while I am letting off steam ?"
But I was now too far gone to feel. the absurdity of this, or
his other exclamations. I was sinking deeper and deeper into
a pit of unutterable agony and despair. For, although I wac
not conscious of real pain in any part of my body, the cruel
tension to which my nerves had been subjected filled mo
through and through with a sensation of distress which was
I'lir more severe than pain itself In addition to this, the rem-
nant of will with which I struggled against the demon, became
gradually weaker, and I felt that I should soon be powerless
1
146 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEN.
in bis liands. Every effort to preserve my reason was accom
panied by a pang of mortal fear, lest what I now experienced
was insanity, and would hold mastery o^er me for ever. The
thought of death, which also haunted me, was far less bitter
than this dread. I knew that in the struggle wliich Was going
on in ray frame, I was borne fearfully near the dark gulf, ar.d
the thought that, at such a time, both reason and will were,
leaving my brain, filled me with an agony, the depth and
blackness of which I should vainly attempt to portray. I
threw myself on my bed, with the excited blood still roaring
wildly in ray ears, my heart throbbing with a force that seemed
to be rapidly wearing away my life, my throat dry as a pot-
sherd, and my stiffened tongue cleaving to the roof of my
mouth — resisting no longer, but awaiting my fate with the
apathy of despair.
My companion was now approaching the same condition,
but as the effect of the drug on him had been less violent, so
his stage of suffering was more clamorous. He cried out to
me that he was dying, implored me to help him, and reproached
me vehemently, because I lay there silent, motionless, and
apparently careless of his danger. " Why will he disturb
me ?" I thought ; " he thinks he is dying, but what is death to
madness ? Let him die ; a thousand deaths were more easily
boriie than the pangs I suffer." While I was sufficiently con-
scious to hear his exclamations, they only provoked my keen
auger ; but after a time, my senses became clouded, and I
sank into a stupor. As near as I can judge, this must have
been three o'clock in the morning, rather more than five
hours after the hasheesh began to take effect. I lay thus all
the following day and night, in a state of gray blank oblivion.
THE VISIONS OF HASHEESH. 14t
broken only by a single wandering gleam of consciousness. I
recollect hearing Francois' voice. He told ine afterwards that
I arose, attempted to dress myself, drank two cups of coffee,
and then fell back into the same death-like stupor ; but of all
this, I did not retain the least knowledge. On the morning of
the second day, after a sleep of thirty hours, I awoke again to
the world, with a system utterly prostrate and unstrung, and
a brain clouded with the lingering images of my visions. I
knew where I was, and what had happened to nie, but all that
I saw still remained unreal and shadowy. There was no taste
in what I ate, no refreshment in what I drank, and it required
a painful effort to comprehend what was said to me and return
a coherent answer. Will and Reason had come back, but they
still sat unsteadily upon their thrones.
My friend, who was much further advanced in his recovery,
accompanied me to the adjoining bath, which I hoped would
assist in restoring me. It was with great difficulty that I pre-
served the outward appearance of consciousness. In spite of
myself, a veil now and then fell over my mind, and after
wandering for years, as it seemed, in some distant world, I
awoke with a shock, to find myself in the steamy halls of the
bath, with a brown Syrian polishing my limbs. I suspect that
my language must have been rambling and incoherent, and
that the menials who had me in charge understood my condi-
tion, for as soon as I had stretched myself upon the couch
which follows the bath, a glass of very acid sherbet was pre-
Bfinted to me, and after drinking it I experienced instant relief,
Still the. spell was not wholly broken, and for two or three
days I continued subject to frequent involuntary fits of absence,
which made me insensible, for the time, to all that was passing
148 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEK.
around me. I walked the streets of Damascus with a strange
consciousness that I was in some other place at the same time,
and with a constant effort to reurite my divided perceptions.
Previous to the experiment, we had decided on making a
bargain with the shekh for the journey to Palmyra. The
Btate, however, in which we now fonnd ourselves, obliged us tc
relinquish the plan. Perhaps the excitement of a forced march
across the desert, and a conflict with the hostile Arabs, which
was quite likely to happen, might have assisted us in throwing
off the baneful effects of the drug ; but all the charm which
lay in the name of Palmyra and the romantic interest of the
trip, was gone. I was without courage and without energy,
and nothing remained for me but to leave Damascus,
Yet, fearful as my rash experiment proved to me, I did not
regret having made it. It revealed to me deeps of rapture
and of suffering which my natural faculties never could have
sounded. It has taught me the majesty of human reason and
of human will, even in the weakest, and the awful peril of
tampering with that which assails their integrity. I have here
faithfully and fully written out my experience, on account of
the lesson wliich it may convey to others. If I have unfortU'
nately failed in my design, and have but awakened that restless
curiosity which I have endeavored to forestall, let me beg all
who are thereby led to repeat the experiment upon themselves,
that they be content to take the portion of hasheesh which is
considered sufficient for one man, aad not, like me, swallow
euough for six.
A DISSERTATION ON BATHING AND BODIES. 144
CHAPTER XI
A DISSKRTATION ON BATHING AND BODIES.
" No swan-soft woman, rubbed with lucid oila,
The gift of an enamored god, more fair,'*
BROWKiiro.
Wk shall not set out from Damascus — we shall not leave the
Pearl of the Orient to glimmer through the seas of foliage
wherein it lies buried — without consecrating a day to the
Bath, that material agent of peace and good-will unto men.
We have bathed in the Jordan, like Naaman, and been made
clean ; let us now see whether Abana and Pharpar, rivers of
Damascus, are better than the waters of Israel.
The Bath is the " peculiar institution " of the East. Coflfee
has become colonized in France and America ; the Pipe is a
cosmopolite, and his blue, joyous breath congeals under
the Arctic Circle, or melts languidly into tlie soft airs of the
Polynesian Isles ; but the Bath, that sensuous elysium which
cradled the dreams of Plato, and the visions of Zoroaster, and
the solemn meditations of Mahomet, is only to be found under
an Oriental sky. The naked natives of the Torrid Zcne
are amphibious ; they do not bathe, they live in the water
The European and Anglo-American wash themselves and
think they ha\ e bathed ; thej shudder under cold showers and
loO THE LANDS OF THE SABAOKN.
perform laborious antics with coarse towels. As for the
Hydropathist, the Genius of the Bath, whose dwelling is
in Damascus, would be convulsed with scornful lausfhter, could
he behold that aqueous Diogenes sitting in his tub, or stretched
out in his wet wrappings, like a sodden mummy, in a cata
comb of blankets and feather beds. As the rose in the Bast
has a rarer perfnme than in other lands, so does the Bath
bestow a superior purification and impart a more profound
enjoyment.
Listen not unto the lamentations of travellers, who complain
of the heat, and the steam, and the dislocations of their joints
They belong to the stiflf-necked generation, who resist the pro-
cesses, whereunto the Oriental yields himself body and soul.
He who is bathed in Damascus, must be as clay in the hands
of a potter. The Syrians marvel how the Franks can walk,
so difficult is it to bend their joints. Moreover, they know the
difference between him who comes to the Bath out of a mere
idle curiosity, and him who has tasted its delight and holds it
in due honor. Only the latter is permitted to know all its
mysteries. Tlie former is carelessly hurried through the ordi-
nary forms of bathing, and, if any trace of the cockney remain
in him, is quite as likely to be disgusted as pleased. Again,
there are many second and third-rate baths, whither cheating
dragomen conduct their victims, in consideration of a division
of spoils with the bath-keeper. Hence it is, that the Bath liaH
received but partial justice at the hands of tourists in the
East. If any one doubts this, let him clothe himself with
Oriental passiveness and resignation, go to the Hamman
el-Kliyateen, at Damascus, or the Bath of Mabmoud Fashaj
at Constantinople, and demand that he be perfectly bathed.
THE BATH. 15 J
Come yriih me, and I will show you the mysteries of thf
perfect bath. Here is the entrance, a heavy Saracenic arch,
opening upon the crowded bazaar. We descend a few steps to
the marble' pavement of a lofty octagonal hall, lighted by a
dome. There is a jet of sparkling water in the centre, falling
into a heavy stone basin. A platform about five feet in height
runs around the hall, and on this are ranged a number of nar-
row couches, with their heads to the wall, like the pallets in
a hospital ward. The platform is covered with straw mat-
ting, and from the wooden gallery which rises above it are
suspended towels, with blue and crimson borders. The master
of the bath receives us courteously, and conducts us to one of
the vacant couches. We kick off our red slippers below, and
mount the steps to the platform. Yonder traveller, in Frank
dress, who has just entered, goes up with his boots on, and we
know, from that fact, what sort of a bath he will get.
As the work of disrobing proceeds, a dark-eyed boy appears
with a napkin, which he holds before us, ready to bind it about
the waist, as soon as we regain our primitive form. Another
attendant throws a napkin over our shoulders and wraps a
third around our head, turban-wise. He then thrusts a pair of
wooden clogs upon our feet, and, taking us by the arm, steadies
our tottering and clattering steps, as we pass through a low
door and a warm ante-chamber into the first hall of the bath.
The light, falling dimly through a cluster of bull's-eyes in the
domed ceiling, shows, first, a silver thread of water, playing
i'.i a steamy atmosphere : next, some dark motionless objects,
stretched out on a low central platform of marble. The
attendant spreads a linen sheet in one of the vacant places,
places a pillow at one end, takes off onr clogs, deposits ua
152 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
gently on our back, and leaves us. The pavement is warm
beneath us, and the first breath we draw gives us a sense of
suffocation. But a bit of burning aloe-wood has just been
carried through the hall, and the steam is permeated with fra^
grance. The dark-eyed boy appears with a narghileh, which
he places beside us, offering the amber mouth-piece to our sub-
missive lips. The smoke we inhale has an odor of roses ; and
as the pij)e bubbles with our breathing, we feel that the dews
of sweat gather heavily upon us. The attendant now re-
appears, kneels beside us, and gently kneads us with dexterous
hands. Although no anatomist, he knows every muscle and
sinew whose suppleness gives ease to the body, and so moulds
and manipulates them that we lose the rigidity of our mechan-
ism, and become plastic in his hands. He turns us upon our
face, repeats the same process upon the back, and leaves us a
little longer to lie there passively, glistening in our own dew.
We are aroused from a reverie about nothing by a dark-
brown shape, who replaces the clogs, puts his arm around our
waist and leads us into an inner hall, with a steaming tank in
the centre. Here he slips us oif the brink, and we collapse
over head and ears in the fiery fluid. Once — twice — we dip
into the delicious heat, and then are led into a marble alcove,
and seated flat upon the floor. The attendant stands behind
us, and we now perceive that his hands are encased in dark
hair-gloves. He pounces upon an arm, which he rubs until,
like a serpent, we slough the worn-out skin, and resume our
infantile smoothness and fairness. No man can be called clean
until he has bathed in the East. Let him walk directly from
his accustomed bath and self-friction with towels, to the Hai*
mam el-Khyateen, and the attendant will exclaim, as he shakes
THE BATH. 153
out his hair-gloves : " Frank ! it is a long time since yoi
have bathed." The other arm follows, the back, the breast,
the legs, until the work is complete, and we know precisely how
a horse feels after he has, been curried.
Now the attendant turns two cocks at the back of the
alcove, and holding a basin alternately under the cold and hot
streams, floods us at first mth a fiery dash, that sends a deli-
cious warm shiver through every nerve ; then, with milder
applications, lessening the temperature of the water by semi-
tones, until, from the highest key of heat which we can bear,
we glide rapturously down the gamut until we reach the
lowest bass of coolness. The skin has by this time attained an
exquisite sensibility, and answers to these changes of tempera-
ture with thrills of the purest physical pleasure. In fact, the
whole frame seems purged of its earthy nature and trans-
formed into something of a finer and more delicate texture.
After a pause, the attendant makes his appearance with a
large. wooden bowl, a piece of soap, and a bunch of palm-
fibres. He squats down beside the bowl, and speedily creates
a mass of snowy lather, which grows up to a pyramid and
topples over the edge. Seizing us by the crown-tuft of hair
upon our shaven head, he plants the foamy bunch of fibres fuD
in our face. The world vanishes ; sight, hearing, smell, taste
(unless we open our mouth), and breathing, are cut off; we
have become nebulous. Although our eyes are shut, we seem
to see a blank whiteness ; and, feeling nothing but a soft
ilceciness, we doubt whether we be not the Olympian cloud
which visited lo. But the cloud clears away before strangula-
tion begins, and the velvety mass descends upon the body,
Twice we are thus "slushed" from head to fpot, and mad?
1*
V54 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
more slippery than the anointed wrestlers of the Greek games
Then the basin comes again into play, and we glide once more
musically through the scale of temperature.
The brown sculptor has now nearly completed his task. Th«
figm-e of clay which entered the bath is transformed into
polished marble. He turns the body from side to side, and
lifts the limbs to see whether the workmanstiip is adequate to
his conception. His satisfied gaze proclaims his success. A
skilful bath- attendant has a certain aesthetic pleasure in his
occupation. The bodies he polishes become to some extent
his own workmanship, and he feels responsible for their
symmetry or deformity. He experiences a degree of triumph
in contemplating a beautiful form, which has grown more airily
light and beautiful under his hands. He is a great connoisseur
of bodies, and could pick you out the finest specimens with as
ready an eye as an artist.
I envy those old Greek bathers, into whose hands were
delivered Pericles, and Alcibiades, and the perfect models of
Phidias. They bad daily before their eyes the highest types
of Beauty which the world has ever produced ; for of all
things that are beautiful, the human body is the crown. Now,
since the delusion of artists has been overthrown, and we know
that Grecian Art is but the simple reflex of Nature — that the
old masterpieces of sculpture were no miraculous embodiments
of a beau ideal, but copies of living forms — we must admit
that in no other age of the world has the physical Man been
BO perfectly developed. The nearest approach I have evei
seen to the symmetry of ancient sculpture was among the
Arab tribes of Ethiopia. Our Saxon race can supply the
athlete, but not the Apollo.
CIRCASSIAN BEAUTY. 155
Oriental life is too full of repose, and tlie Ottoman rac has
become too degenerate through indulgence, to exhibit many
striking specimens of physical beauty. The face is ger/eraliy
fine, but the body is apt to be lank, and with imperfect muscu-
lar development. The best forms I saw in the baths were
those of laborers, who, with a good deal of rugged strength,
showed some grace and harmony of proportion. It may be
received as a general rule, that the physical development of
the European is superior to that of the Oriental, with the
exception of the Circassians and Georgians, whose beauty well
entitles them to the distinctiou of giving their name to our
race.
So far as female beauty is concerned, the Circassian women
have no superiors. They have preserved in their mountain
home the purity of the Grecian models, and still display the
perfect physical loveliness, whose type has descended to us in
the Venus de Medici. The Frank who is addicted to wander-
ing about the streets of Oriental cities can hardly fail to be
favored with a sight of the faces of these beauties. More than
once it has happened to me, in meeting a veiled lady, sailing
along in her balloon-like feridjee, that she has allowed the veil
to drop by a skilful accident, as she passed, and has startled
me, with the vision of her beauty, recalling the line of the Per-
sian poet : " Astonishment ! is this the dawn of the glorious
eun, or is it the full moon ?" The Circassian face is a pure
oval ; the forehead is low and fair, " an excellent thing in
woman," and the skin of an ivory whiteness, except the faint
pink of the cheeks and the ripe, roseate stain of the lips. The
liair is dark, glossy, and luxuriant, exquisitely outlined on the
temples ; the eyebrows slightly arched, and drawn with a
156 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
delicate peucil ; while lashes like "rays of darkness" shade
the large, dark, humid orbs below them. The alabaster of the
facC; so pure as scarcely to show the blue branching of the
veins on the temples, is lighted by those superb eyes —
" Shining eyes, like antique jewels set in Parian statue-stone,"
— whose wells are so dark and deep, that you are cheated into
the belief that a glorious soul looks out of them.
Once, by an unforeseen chance, I beheld the Circassian form,
in its most perfect development. I was on board an Austrian
steamer in the harbor of Smyrna, when the harem of a Turk-
ish pasha came out in a boat to embark for Alexandria. The
sea was rather rough, and nearly all the officers of the steamer
were ashore. There were six veiled and swaddled women, with
a black eunuch as guard, in the boat, which lay tossing for some
time at the foot of the gangway ladder, before the frightened
passengers could summon courage to step out. At last the
youngest of them — a Circassian girl of not more than fifteen
or sixteen years of age — ventured upon the ladder, clasping the
hand-rail, with one hand, while with the other she held together
the folds of her cumbrous feridjee. I was standing in the
gangway, watching her, when a slight lurch of the steamer
caused her to loose her hold of the garment, which, fastened
at the neck, was blown back from her shoulders, leaving hei
body screened but by a single robe of light, gauzy silk.
Through this, the marble whiteness of her skin, the roundness,
the glorious symmetry of her form, flashed upon me, as a vision
of Aphrodite, seen
" Through leagues of shimmering water, like a star."
THE HUMAN BQDY. 151
It was but a momentary glimpse ; yet that moment convinced
me that forms of Phidian perfection are still nurtured in the
vales of Caucasus.
The necessary disguise of dress hides from us much of the
beauty and dignity of Humanity. I have seen men who
appeared heroic in the freedom of nakedness, shrink almost into
absolute vulgarity, when clothed. The soul not only sits at
the windows of the eyes, and hangs upon the gateway of the
lips ; she speaks as well in the intricate, yet harmonious lines
of the body, and the ever-varying play of tlie limbs. Look at
the torso of Ilioueus, the son of Niobe, and see what an agony
of terror and supplication cries out from that headless and
limbless trunk 1 Decapitate Laocoon, and his knotted muscles
will still express the same dreadful suffering and resistance.
None knew this better than the ancient sculptors ; and hence
it was that we find many of their statues of distinguished men
wholly or partly undraped. Such a view of Art would be
considered transcendental now-a-days, when our dress, our cos-
tumes, and our modes of speech either ignore the existence of
our bodies, or treat them with little of that reverence which is
their due.
But, while we have been thinking these thoughts, the
attendant has been waiting to give us a final plunge into the
seething tank. Again we slide down to the eyes in the fluid
heat, which wraps us closely about until we tingle with exqui-
site hot shiverings. Now comes the graceful boy, with clean,
eool, lavendered napkins, which he folds around our waist and
wraps softly about the head. The pattens are put upon our
fcet, and the brown arm steadies us gently through the sweat-
ing-room and ante-chamber into the outer hall, where we mount
158 THE LANDS OP TH<5 SARACEN.
to our couch. We sink gently upon the cool linen, and the
boy covers us with a perfumed sheet. Then, kneeling beside
the couch, he presses the folds of the sheet around us, that it
may absorb the lingering moisture and the limpid perspiration
shed by the departing heat. As fast as the linen becomes
damp, he replaces it with fresh, pressing the folds about >is as
tenderly as a mother arranges the drapery of her sleeping
babe ; for we, thdugh of the stature of a man, are now infan-
tile in our helpless happiness. Then he takes our passive
hand and warms its palm by the soft friction of his own;
after which, moving to the end of the couch, he lifts our
feet upon his lap, and repeats the friction upon their soles,
until the blood comes back to the surface of the body with a
misty glow, like that which steeps the clouds of a summer
afternoon.
We have but one more process to undergo, and the attend'
ant already Stands at the -head. of our couch. This is the
course of passive gymnastics, which excites so much alarm and
resistance in the ignorant Franks. It is only resistance that
is dangerous, complistely neutralizing the enjoyment of the pro-
cess. Give yourself with a blind submission into the arms of
the brown Fate, and he will lead you to new chambers of
delight. He lifts us to a sitting posture, places himself behind
us, and folds his arms around our body, alternately tightening
and relaxing his clasp, as if to test the elasticity of the ribs,
Then seizing one arm, he drawis it across the opposite shoulder,
until the joint cracks like a percussion-cap. The shoulder-
blades, the elbows, the wrists, and the finger-joints are all made
to fire off their muffled volleys ; and then, placing one knee
between our shoulders- and clasping both hands upon our fore«
THE BATH. 155
head, he draws our head back until we feel a great suap of the
vertebral column. Now he descends to the hip-joints, knees,
ankles, and feet, forcing each and all to discharge a salvo dc
ioie. The slight ' languor left from the bath is gone, and an
airy, delicate exhUaration, befitting the winged Mercury, takes
its place.
The boy, kneeling, presents us with afinjan of foamy coffee,
followed by a glass of sherbet cooled with the snows of Leba-
non. He presently returns with a narghileh, which we smoke
by the effortless inhalation of the lungs. Thus we lie in per-
fect repose, soothed by the fragrant weed, and idly watching
the silent Orientals, who are undressing for the bath or reposing
like ourselves. Through the arched entrance, we see a picture
of the bazaars : a shadowy painting of merchants seated amid
their silks and spices, dotted here and there with golden drops
and splashes of sunshine, which have trickled through the roof.
The scene paints itself upon our eyes, yet wakes no slightest
stir of thought. The brain is a becalmed sea, without a ripple
on its shores. Mind and body are drowned in delicious rest ;
and we no longer remember what we are. We only know that
there is an Existence somewhere in the air, and that wherever
it is, and whatever it may be, it is happy.
More and more dim grows the picture. The colors fade and
blend into each other, and finally merge into a bed of rosy
clouds, flooded with the radiance of some unseen sun. Gentlier
than "tired eyelids upon tired eyes," sleep lies upon our
senses : a half-conscious sleep, wherein we know that we behold
light and inhale fragrance. As gently, the clouds dissipate
into air, and we are born again into the world. The Bath is
at an end. We arise and put on our garments, and walk forth
160 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
into the snuny streets of Damascus. But as we go homewards,
we involuntarily look down to see whether we are really tread-
ing upon the earth, wondering, perhaps, that we should be
content to do so, when it would be so easy to soar above the
house-tops.
DKJ'AHTUBK iROM CAMASUUd. ItVl
CHAPTER XII.
BAALBEO AND LEBANON.
Depar(ure from Uamasrus— The Fountains of the Pharpar— Puss of the Anti-Lebaiiai>-
Adventure with the Druses — The Range of Lebanon — Tlie Demon of HashecsK
departs — Impressions of Baalbec — The Temple of the Sun — Titanic Masonry — The
Ruined Mosque — Camp on Lebanon — Rascality of the Guide — The Summit of Lebanon
— The Sacred Cedars — The Christians of Lebanon — An Afturnooa in Eden—RuggeJ
Travel — We Reach the Coast — Return to Beyrout.
" Peor and Baalim
Forsake their temples dim."
MlI.TON.
" The cedars wave on Lebanon,
But Judah's statelier maids are gone."
BVRON.
BEynonr, Thursday, May 27, ISW.
After a stay of eight days in Damascas, we called our meii,
Dervish and Mustapha, again into requisition, loaded our
enthusiastic mules, and mounted our despairing horses. There
were two other parties on the way to Baalbec — an English
gentleman and lady, and a solitary Englishman, so that our
united forces made an imposing caravan. There is always a
custom-house examination, not on entering, but on issuing from
an Oriental city, but travellers can avoid it by procuring the
company of a Consular Janissary as far as the gate. Mr.
Wood, the British Consul, lent us one of his officers for the
Ifi'J THE LANDS OF THE SJRACEH'.
occasion, whom we found waiting, outside of the wall, to receiTt
his private fee for the service. "We mounted the long, barren
hill west of the plain, and at the summit, ner«r the tomb of a
Moslem shekh, turned to take a last long lock at the bowery
plain, and the minarets of the city, glittering through the blue
morning vapor.
A few paces further on the rocky road, a different scene
presented itself to us. There lay, to the westward, a long
Etretcli of naked yellow mountains, basking in the hot glare of
the sun, and thn)ugh the centre, deep down in the heart of the
arid landscape, a winding line of living green showed the course
of the Barrada. We followed the river, until the path reached
an impassable gorge, which occasioned a detour of two or
three hours. We then descended to the bed of the dell, where
the vegetation, owing to the radiated heat from the mountains
and the fertilizing stimulus of the water below, was even richer
than on the plain of Damascus. The trees were plethoric with
an overplus of life. The boughs of the mulberries were
weighed down with the burden of the leaves ; pomegranates
were in a violent eruption of blossoms ; and the foliage of the
fig and poplar was of so deep a hue that it shone black in, the
Eun.
Passing through a gateway of rock, so narrow that we were
often obliged to ride in the bed of the stream, we reached a
little meadow, beyond which was a small hamlet, almost hidden
ill the leaves. Here the mountains again approached each
other, and from the side of that on the right hand, the main
body of the Barrada, or Pharpar, gushed forth in one full
stream. The fountain is nearly double the volume of that of
the Jordan at Baiiias, and mach more beautiful. The foundar
THE F0UNTAIS3 OF THE PHARPAK. 16iJ
tions of an ancient hnilding, probably a temple, overhang it,
and tall poplars and sycamores cover it with impenetrable
shade. From the low aperture, where it bursts into the light
its waters, white with foam, bound away flashing in the chance
rays of sunshine, until they are lost to sight in the dense, dark
foliage. We sat an hour on the ruined walls, listening to the
roar and rush of the flood, and enjoying the shade of the wal-
nuts and sycamores. Soon after leaving, our path crossed a
small stream, which comes down to the Barrada from the upper
valleys of the Anti-Lebanon, and entered a wild pass, faced
with cliffs of perpendicular rock. An old bridge, of one arch,
spanned the chasm, out of whicli we climbed to a tract of high
meadow land. In the pass there were some fragments of
ancient columns, traces of.an aqueduct, and inscriptions on the
rocks, among which- Mr. H. found the name of Antoninus
The place is not mentioned in any book of travel I have seen, as
it is not on the usual road from Damascus to Baalbec.
As we were emerging from the pass, we saw a company of
twelve armed men seated in the grass, near the roadside.
They were wild-looking characters, and eyed us somewhat
sharply as we passed. We greeted them with the usual
" salaam aleikoom !" which they did not return. The same
eveiiitig, as we encamped at the village of Zebdeni, about three
hours further up the valley, we were startled by a great noise
and outcry, with the firing of pistols. It happened, as we
learned on inquiring the cause of all this confusion, that the
men we saw in the pass were rebel Druses, who were then
lying in wait for the Shekh of Zebdeni, whom, with his son,
they had taken captive soon after we passed. The news had
by some means bjeu conveyed to the village, and a compary
164 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACEN.
of about two hundred persons was then marching out to the
rescue. The noise they made was probably to give the Druses
intimation of their coming, and thus i void a fight. 1 do not
believe that any of the mountaineers of Lebanon would will-
ingly take part against the Druses, who, in fact, are not
fighting so much against the institution of the conscription
law, as its abuse. The law ordains that the conscript shall
serve for five years ; but since its establishment, as I have
been informed, there has not been a single instance of dis-
charge. It amounts, therefore, to lifelong servitude, and there
is little wonder that these independent sons of the mountains,
as well as the tribes inhabiting the Syrian Desert, should rebel
rather than submit.
The next day, we crossed a pass in the Anti-Lebanon beyond
Zebdeni, descended a beautiful valley on the western side,
• under a ridge which was still dotted with patches of snow,
and after travelling for some hours over a wide, barren height,
the last of the range, saw below us the plain of Baalbec. The
grand ridge of Lebanon opposite, crowned with glittering
fields of snow, shone out clearly through the pure air, and the
hoary head of Hermon, far in the south, lost something of ita
grandeur by the comparison. Though there is a " divide," or
watershed, between Husbeiya, at the foot of Mount Hermon,
and Baalbec, whose springs join the Orontes, which flows
northward to Antioch, the great natural separation of the two
chains continues unbroken to the Gulf of Akaba, in the Red
Sea. A little beyond Baalbec, the Anti-Lebanon terminates,
sinking into the Syrian plain, while the Lebanon, though ita
name and general features are lost, about twenty miles furthel
to the north is succeeded by other ranges, which, though
THE DEMON OF HASHEESH DEPAUTS. 165
broken at intervals, form a regular series, connecting with the
Taurus, in Asia Minor.
On learing Damascus, the Demon of Hasheesh still main-
tained a partial control over me. I was weak in body and at
times confused in my perceptions, wandering away from the
scenes about nle to some unknown sphere beyond the moon.
But the healing balm of my sleep at Zebdeni, and the purity
of the morning air among the mountains, completed my cure.
As T rode along the valley, with the towering, snow-sprinkled
ridge of the Anti-Lebanon on my right, a cloudless heaven
above my head, and meads enamelled with the asphodel and
scarlet anemone stretching before me, I felt that the last
shadow had rolled away from my brain. My mind was now as
clear as that sky — my heart as free and joyful as the elastic
morning air. The sun never shone so brightly to my eyes ;
the fair forms of Nature were never penetrated with so perfect
a spirit of beauty. I was again master of myself, and the
world glowed as if new-created in the light of my joy and gra-
titude. I thanked God, who had led me out of a darkness
more terrible than that of the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
and while my feet strayed among the flowery meadows of Leba-
non, my heart walked on the Delectable Hills of His Mercy.
By the middle of the afternoon, we reached Baalbec. The
distant view of the temple, on descending the last slope of the
Anti-Lebanon, is not calculated to raise one's expectations.
On the green plain at the foot of the mountain, you see a large
square platform of masonry, upon which stand six columns, the
body of the temple, and a quantity of ruined walls. As a
feature in the la:ndscape, it has a fine effect, but you find your-
self pronouncing the speedy judgment, that " Raalbec, without
(66 THE LANDS OF THE SAJACEN.
Lebanon, would be rather a poor show." Having come to
this conclusion, you ride down the hill with comfortable fcel<
ings of indifference. There are a number of quarries on the
bft hand ; you glance at them with an expression which merely
says : "Ah 1 I suppose they got the stones here," and so you
saunter on, cross a little stream that flows down from the
modern village, pass a mill, return the stare of the quaint
Arab miller who comes to the door to see you, and your horse
is climbing a difficult path among the broken columns and
friezes, before you think it worth while to lift your eyes to the
pile above you. Now re-assert your judgment, if you dare 1
This is Baalbec : what have you to say ? Nothing ; but yon
amazedly measure the torsos of great columns which lie piled
acro.ss one another in magnificent wreck ; vast pieces which
have dropped from the entablature, beautiful Corinthian capi-
tals, bereft of the last graceful curves of their acanthus leaves,
and blocks whose edges are so worn away that they resemble
enormous natural boulders left by the Deluge, till at last you
look up to the six glorious pillars, towering nigh a hundred feet
above your head, and there is a sensation in your brain which
would be a shout, if you could give it utterance, of faultless
symmetry and majesty, such as no conception of yours and no
other creation of art, can surpass.
I know of nothing so beautiful in all remains of ancient Art
as these six columns, except the colonnade of the Meninonium,
at Thebes, which is of much sraall'^r proportions. From every
position, and with all lights of the day or night, they art
equally perfect, and carry your eyes continually away from the
peristyle of the smaller temple, which is better preserved, and
from the exquisite architecture of the outer courts and pf.vi
THE TEMPLES OF BAALBEC. 167
lions. The two temples of Baalbec stand on an artificial plat
form of masonry, a thousand feet in length, and from fifteen to
ihirty feet (according to the depression of the soil) in heiglit
The larger one, which is supposed to have been a Pantlieon,
occupies the whole length of this platform. The entrance wa?
at the north, by a grand flight of steps, now brolsen away,
between two lofty and elegant pavilions which are still nearly
entire. Then followed a spacious hexagonal court, and three
grand halls, parts of which, with niches for statues, adorned
with cornices and pediments of elaborate design, still remain
entire to the roof. This magnificent series of chambers was
terminated at the southern extremity of the platform by the
main temple, which had originally twenty columns on a side,
similar to the six now standing.
The Temple of the Sun stands on a smaller and lower plat-
form, which appears to have been subsequently added to the
greater one. The cella, or body of the temple, is complete
except the roof, and of the colonnade surrounding it, nearly
one-half of its pillars are still standing, upholding the frieze,
entablature, and cornice, which altogether form probably the
most ornate specimen of the Corinthian order of architecture
now extant. Only four pillars of the superb portico remain,
and the Saracens have nearly ruined these -by building a sort
of watch-tower upon the architrave. The same unscrupulous
race completely shut up the portal of the temple with a blank
wall, formed of the fragments they had hurled down, and one
is obliged to creep through a narrow hole in order to reach
the interior. Here the original doorway faces yon — and I
know not how to describe the wonderful design of its elaborate
sculptured mouldings and cornices. The genius of Greek art
168 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
seems to have exhausted itself in inventing ornaments, which,
while they should heighten the gorgeous effect of the work,
must yet harmonize with the grand design of (he temple. The
enormous keystone over the entrance has slipped down, no
doubt from the shock of an earthquake, and hangs within six
inches of the bottom of the two blocks which uphold it on
cither side. When it falls, the whole entablature of the portal
will be destroyed. On its lower side is an eagle with outspread
wings, and on the side-stones a genius with garlands of flowers,
exquisitely sculptured in bas relief. Hidden among the wreaths
of vines which adorn the jambs are the laughing heads of
fauns. This portal was a continual study to me, every visit
revealing new refinements of ornament, which I had not before
observed. The interior of the temple, with its rich Corinthian
pilasters, its niches for statues, surmounted by pediments ol '
elegant design, and its elaborate cornice, needs little aid of the
imagination to restore it to its original perfection. Like that
of Dendera, in Egypt, the Temple of the Sun leaves upon the
mind an impression of completeness which makes you forget
far grander remains.
But the most wonderful thing at Baalbec is the foundation
platform upon which the temples stand. Even the colossal
fabrics of Ancient Egypt dwindle before this superhuman
masonry. The platform itself, 1,000 feet long, and averaging
twenty feet in height, suggests a vast mass of stones, but when
you come to examine the single blocks of which it is composed,
you are crushed with their incredible bulk. On the western
side is a row of eleven foundation stones, each of which ia
thirty-two feet in length, twelve in height, and ten in thickness,
forming a wall three hundred and fifty-two feet long I But
TITANIC MASONRY. 169
while you are walking on, thinking of the art wnich cut and
raised these enormous blocks, you turn the southern corner and
come upon thret stones, the united length of which is ont htm-
dral and dghty-uven feet — two of them being sixty-two and
the other sixty-three feet in length I There they are, cat with
faultless exactness, and so smoothly joined to each other, that
you cannot force a cambric needle into the crevice. There is one
joint so perfect that it can only be discerned by the minutest
search ; it is not even so perceptible as the junfetion of two
pieces of paper which have been pasted together. In the quarry,
there still lies a finished block, ready for transportation, which
is sixty-seven feet in length. The weight of one of these masses
has been reckoned at near 9,000 tons, yet they do not form the
base of the foundation, but are raised upon other courses, fifteen
feet from the ground. It is considered by some antiquarians
that they are of a date greatly anterior to that of the temples,
and were intended as the basement of a different edifice.
In the village of Baalbec there is a small circular Corinthian
temple of very elegant design. It is not more than thirty feet
in diameter, and may have been intended as a tomb. A spa^
cious mosque, now roofless and deserted, was constructed almost
entirely out of the remains of the temples. Adjoining the
court-yard and fountain are five rows of -ancient pillars, forty
(the sacred number) in all, supporting light Saracenic arches.
Some of them are marble, with Corinthian capitals, and eighteeii
are single shafts of red Egyptian granite. Beside the fountain
lies a small broken pillar of porphyry, of a dark violet hue,
and of so fine a grain that the stone has the soft rich lustre
of velvet. This fragment is the only thing I would carry awaj
if I had the power.
no THB LANUS or THE SARACEN,
After a day's sojourn, we left Baalbec at noon, and took tht
road for the Cedars, which lie on the other side of Lebanon, in
the direction of Tripoli. Our English fellow-travellers chose
the direct road to Beyrout. We crossed the plain in three
hours, to the village of D&yr el'Ahmar, and then commenced
ascending the lowest slopes of the great range, whose topmost
ridge, a dazzling parapet of snow, rose high above us. Por
several hours, our path led up and down stony ridges, covered
with thickets of oak and holly, and with wild cherry, pear,- and
olive-trees. Just as the sun threw the shadows of the highest
Lebanon over us, we came upon a narrow, rocky glen at his
very base. Streams that still kept the color and the coolness
of the snow-fields from which they oozed, foamed over the
stones into the chasm at the bottom. The glen descended
into a mountain basin, in which lay the lake of Yemouni, cold
and green under the evening shadows. But just opposite us,
on a little shelf of soil, there was a rude mill, and a group of
Buperb walnut-trees, overhanging the brink of the largest tor-
rent. We had sent our baggage before us, and the men, with
an eye to the picturesque which I should not have suspected
in Arabs, had pitched our tents under those trees, where the
stream poured its snow-cold beakers beside us, and the tent-
door looked down on the plain of Baalbec and across to the
Anti-Lebanon. The miller and two or three peasants, who
were living in this lonely spot, were Christians.
The next morning we commenced ascending the Lebanon.
We had slept just below the snow-line, for the long hollows
with which brings his book for you to register your
name therein. I was surprised to find how few of the crowd
that annually overrun Syria reach the Cedars, which, after
Baalbec, arc the finest remains of antiquity in the whole
sxmntrj.
IH THE LANDS OF THE SARACEM.
After a stay of three hours, we rode on to Eden, whither cm
men had already gone with the baggage. Onr road led along
the brink of a tremendous gorge, a thousand feet deep, the
bottom of which was only accessible here and there by hazard-
ous foot-Daths. On either side, a long shelf of cultivated land
sloped down to the top, and the mountain streams, after wate^
ing a multitude of orchards and grain-fields, tumbled over the
cliffs in long, sparkling cascades, to join the roaring flood
below. This is the Christian region of Lebanon, inhabited
almost wholly by Maronites, who still retain a portion of their
former independence, and are the most thrifty, industrious,
honest, and happy people in Syria. Their villages are not con-
crete masses of picturesque filth, as are those of the Moslems,
bul are loosely scattered among orchards of mulberry, poplar
and vine, washed by fresh rills, and have an air of comparative
neatness and comfort. Each has its two or three chapels,
with their little belfries, which toll the hours of prayer. Sad
and poetic as is the call from the minaret, it never touched mo
as when I heard the sweet tongues of those Christian bells,
chiming vespers far and near on the sides of Lebanon. *
Eden merits its name. It is a mountain paradise, inhabited
by people so kind and simple-hearted, that assuredly no venge-
ful angel will ever drive them out with his flaming sword. It
hangs above the gorge, which is here nearly two thousand feet
deep, and overlooks a grand wilderness of mountain-piles,
crowded on and over each other, from the sea that gleams
below, to the topmost heights that keep off the morning sun.
The houses are all built of hewn stone, and grouped in clusters
ander the shade of large walnut-trees. In walking among
them, we received kind greetings everywhere, and every one
AN AFPEBNOON IN EDEN. 176
who was seated rose and remained standing as we passed,
The women are beautiful, with sprightly, intelligent faces, quite
different from the stupid Mahometan females.
The children were charming creatures, and some ol the girls
of ten or twelve years were lovely as angels. They came
timidly to our tent (which the men had pitched as before,
under two superb trees, beside a fountain), and offered us roses
and branches of fragrant white jasmine. They expected some
return, of course, but did not ask it, and the delicate grace
with which the offering was made was beyond all pay. It was
Sunday, and the men and boys, having nothing better to do, all
came to see and talk with us. I shall not soon forget the circle
of gay and laughing villagers,- in which we sat that evening,
while the dark purple shadows gradually filled up the gorgesy
and broad golden Mghts poured over the shoulders of the hills.
The men had much sport in inducing the smaller boys to come
up and salute us. There was one whom they called " the
Consul," who eluded them for some time, but was finally caught
and placed in the ring before us. " Peace be with you, O
Consul," I said, making him a profound inclination, " may your
days be propitious 1 may your shadow be increased !" but I
then saw, from the vacant expression on the boy's face, that he
was one of those harmless, witless creatures, whom yet one
cannot quite call idiots. " He is an unfgrtunate ; he knows
nothing ; he has no protector but God," said the men, crossing
themselves devoutly. The boy took off his cap, crept up and
kissed my hand, as I gave him some money, which he no sooner
grasped, than he sprang up like a startled gazelle, and was out
of sight in an instant.
In descending from Eden to the sea-coast, we were obliged
176 THE l.AN'DS OF THE SARACEN.
to cross the great gorge of which I spoke. Further down, its
sides are loss steep, and clothed eren to the very bottom with
magnificent orchards of mulberry, fig, olive, orange, and pome-
granate trees. We were three hours in reaching the opposite
side, although the breadth across the top is not more than a
mile. The path was exceedingly perilous ; we walked down,
leading our horses, and once were obliged to unload oar
mules to get them past a tree, which would have forced
them off the brink of a chasm several hundred feet deep.
The view from the bottom was wonderful. We were shut
in by steeps of foliage and blossoms from two to three
thousand feet high, broken by crags of white marble, and
towering almost precipitously to the very clouds. I doubt if
Melville saw anything grander in the tropical gorges of
Typee. After reaching the other side, we had still a journey
of eight hours to the sea, through a wild and broken, yet
highly cultivated country.
Beyrout was now thirteen hours distant, but by making a
forced march we reached it in a day, travelling along the
shore, past the towns of Jebeil, the ancient Byblus, and
Joonieh. The hills about Jebeil prodiice the celebrated
tobacco known in Egypt as the Jebelee, or " mountain " tobacco,
which is even superior to the Latakiyeh.
Near Beyrout, the mulberry and 6live are in the ascendant.
The latter tree bears the finest fruit in all the Levant,
and might drive all other oils out of the market, if
any one - had enterprise enough to erect proper manufac-
tories. Instead of this, the oil of the country is badly
prepared, rancid from the skins in which it is kept, and the
wealthy natives import from France and Italy in preference to
SYRIAN CDLTIVATIOlH. ' i '
iiBing it. In the bottoms near the sea, I saw several fields of
the taro-plant, the cultivation of which I had supposed waa
exclusively confined to the Islands of the Pacific. Tliere
would be no end to the wealth of Syria were the country in
proper hands.
;]7y THE LANDS OF THE SaRACKIT.
CHAPTER XIII.
PIPES AND COFFEE,
" the kind nymph to Bacchus bom
By Morpheus* daughter^ she that seems
Gifted upon her natal morn
By him with fire, by her with dreams —
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse
Than all the grape's beirildering juice.". Lowiu.
In painting the picture of an Oriental, the pipe and the coffee-
cup are indispensable accessories. There is scarce a Turk, or
Arab, or Persian — unless he be a Dervish of peculiar sanctity —
but breathes his daily incense to the milder Bacchus of the
moderns. The custom has become so thoroughly naturalized
in the East, that we are apt to forget its comparatively recent
introduction, and to wonder that no menticu is made of the
pipe in the Arabian Nights. The practice of smoking harmo-
nizes so thoroughly with the character of Oriental life, that it
is difficult for us to imagine a time when it never existed. It
has become a part of that supreme patience, that wonderful
repose, which forms so strong a contrast to the over-active Ufa
of the New World — the enjoyment of which no one can taste,
to whom the pipe is not familiar. Howl, ye Reformers 1 but I
solemnly declare unto you, that he who travels through the
East without smoking, does not know the East.
It is strange that our Continent, where tlje meaning of Rest
THE PIl'E. 17 ft
is auknown, should have given to the world this great agent of
Rest. There is nothing more remarkable in history than the
colonization of Tobacco over the whole Earth. Not three
centuries have elapsed since knightly Raleigh puffed its fumes
into the astonished eyes of Spenser and Shakspeare ; and now,
dud me any corner of the world, from Nova Zembla to the
Mountains of the Moon, where the use of the plant is unknown 1
Tarshish (if India was Tarshish) is less distinguished by its
" apes, ivory, and peacocks,'' than by its hookahs ; the valleys
of Luzon, beyond Ternate and Tidore, send us more cheroots
than spices ; the Gardens of Shiraz produce more velvety
toomhek than roses, and the only fountains which bubble in
Samarcand are those of the narghilehs : Lebanon is no longer
"excellent with the Cedais," as in the days of Solomon, but
most excellent witji its fields of Jebelee and Latakiyeh. On
the unvisited plains of Central Africa, the table-lands of Tar-
tary, and in the valleys of Japan, the wonderful plant has found
a home. The naked negro, " panting at the Line," inhales it
nnder the palms, and the Lapp and Samoyed on the shores of
the Frozen Sea.
It is idle for those who object to the use of Tobacco to
attribute these phenomena wholly to a perverted taste. The
fact that the custom was at once adopted by all the races of
'men, whatever their geographical position and degree of civili-
zation, proves that there must be a reason for it in the physical
3onstitution of man. Its effect, when habitually used, is
slightly narcotic and sedative, not stimulating — or if so, at
times, it stimulates only the imagination and the social facul*
ties. It lulls to sleep the combative and destructive propensi-
ties, and hence — so far as a material agent may operate: — it
180 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
exercises a humaniziug and refining inflaence. A profonnd
student of Man, whose name is well known to the world, once
informed me that he saw in the eagerness with which savage
tribes adopt the use of Tobacco, a spontaneous movement of
Nature towards Civilization.
I will not pursue these speculations further, for the narghileh
(bubbling softly at my elbow, as I write) is the promoter of
repose and the begetter of agreeable reverie. As I inhale its
cool, fragrant breath, and partly yield myself to the sensation
of healthy rest which wraps my limbs as with a velvet mantle,
I marvel how the poets and artists and scholars of olden times
nursed those dreams which the world calls indolence, but which
are the seeds that germinate into great achievements. How did
Plato philosophize without the pipe ? How did gray Homer,
sitting on the temple-steps in the Grecian twilights, drive
from his heart the bitterness of beggary and blindness ? How
did Phidias charm the Cerberus of his animal nature to sleep,
while his soul entered the Elysian Fields and beheld the forma
of heroes? For, in the higher world of Art, Body and Soul
are sworn enemies, and the pipe holds an opiate more potent
than all the drowsy syrups of the East, to drug the former
into submission. Milton knew this, as he smoked his evening
pipe at Chalfont, wandering, the while, among the palms of
Paradise.
But it is also our loss, that Tobacco was unknown to ths
Greeks. They would else have given us, in verse and in .mar-
ble, another divinity in their glorious Pantheon — a god lesJ
drowsy than Morpheus and Somnus, less riotous than Bacchus,
less radiant than Apollo, but with something of the spirit of
each : a figure, beautiful with youth, every muscle in perfect
THE PIPE. 181
repose, and the vagae expression of dreams in his half-closed
eyes. His temple would have been built in a grore of South-
ern pines, on the borders of a land-locked gulf, sheltered from
the surges that buflfet without, where service would have been
rendered him in the late hours of the afternoon, or in the even-
ing twilight. From his oracular tripod words of wisdom would
have been spoken, and the fanes of Delphi and Dodona would
have been deserted for his.
Oh, non-smoking friends, who read these lines with pain and
incredulity — ^and you, ladies, who turn pale at the thought of a
pipe — ^let me tell you that you are familiar only with the vul-
gar form of tobacco, and have never passed between the wind
and its gentility. The word conveys no idea to you but that
of "long nines," and pig-tail, and cavendish. . Forget these for
a moment, and look ,upon this dark-brown cake of dried leaves
and blossoms, which exhales an odor of pressed flowers. These
are the tender tops of the Jebelee, plucked as the buds begin to
expand, and carefully dried in the shade. In order to. be used,
it is moistened, with rose-scented water, ^nd cut to the neces-
sary degree of fineness. The test of true Jebelee is, that it
burns with a slow, hidden fire, like tinder, and. causes no irrita-
tion to the eye when held under it. The smoke, drawn through
a long cherry-sticki pipe and ^mber mouth-piece, is pure, cool,
and sweet, with »n aromatiC; flavor, which is very pleasant in
the mouth. It excites no salivation, and leaves behind it no
unpleasant,- stale ,qdar. ,
The narghileh (still bubbling beside me) is an institution
j^npwn only in the East. It requires a pecuUar kind of
Ijobacco, wl^ich grows to perfection in the southern provinces
«f Persia The smoke, »fter passing through water (ro8&
182 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
flavored, if you choose), is inhaled through a long, dexible
tube directly into the lungs. It occasions not the slightest
irritation or oppression, but in a few minutes produces a
delicious sense of rest, which is felt even in the finger-ends.
The pure physical sensation of rest is one of strength also, and
of perfect contentment. Many an impatient thouglit, many an
angry word, have I avoided by a resort to the pipe. Among
cur aborigines the pipe was the emblem of Peace, and I
strongly recommend the Peace Society to print their tracts
upon papers of smoking tobacco (Turkish, if possible), and
distribute pipes with them.
I know of nothing more refreshing, after the fatigue of a long
day's journey, than a well-prepared narghileh. That slight
feverish and excitable feeling which is the result of fatigue
yields at once to its potency. The blood loses its heat and the
pulse its rapidity ; the muscles relax, the nerves are soothed
into quiet, and the frame passes into a condition similar to
sleep, except that the mind is awake and active. By the time
one has finished his pipe, he is refreshed for the remainder of
the day, and his nightly sleep is sound and healthy. Such are
some of the physical effects of the pipe, in Eastern lands.
Morally and psychologically, it works still greater transforma-
tions ; but to describe them now, with the mouth-piece at my
lips, would require an active self- consciousness which the habit
does not allow.
A. servant enters with a steamy cup of coffee, seated in a
silver zerf, or cup-holder. His thumb and fore-finger are
clasped firmly upon the bottom of the zerf, whicli I inclose
near the top with my own thumb and finger, so that the trans
fer is accomplished without his hand having -touched uiiiiSi
COFFEE. 182
After draining the thick brown liquid, which mrst be done
with due deliberation and a pause of satisfaction between each
Bip, I return the zerf, holding it in the middle, while the atten-
dant places a palm of each hand upon the top and bottom and
carries it off without contact. The beverage is made of the
berries of Mocha, slightly roasted, pulverized in a mortar, and
heated to a foam, without the addition of cream or sugar.
Sometimes, however, it is flavored with the extract of roses or
violets. When skilfully made, each cup is prepared separately,
and the quantity of water and coffee carefully measured.
, Coffee is a true child of the East, and its original home was
among the hills of Yemen, the Arabia Felix of the ancients.
Fortunately for Mussulmen, its use was unknown in the days
of Mahomet, or it would probably have fallen under the same
prohibition as wine. The word Kahweh (whence cafe) is an
old Arabic term for wine. The discovery of the properties of
coffee is attributed to a dervish, who, for some misdemeanor,
was carried into the mountains of Yemen by his brethren and
there left to perish by starvation. In order to appease the
pangs of hunger he gathered the ripe berries from the wild
coffee-trees, roasted and ate them. The nourishment they con-
tained, with water from the springs, sustained his life, and aftei'
two or three months he returned in good condition to his
brethren, who considered his preservation as a miracle, and
3ver afterwards looked upon him as a pattern of holines?. He
^anght the use of the miraculous fruit, and the demand for it
soon became so great as to render the cultivation of the trea
necessary. It was a long time, however, before coffee wa.i
introduced into Europe. As late as the beginning of the
seventeenth century, Sandys, the quaint old traveller, describes
.184 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
the appearance and taste of the beverage, which he calU
" Coffa," and sagely asks : -" Why not that black broth whicb
the Lacedemonians used ?"
On account of the excellence of the material, and the skilfal
manner of its preparation, the Coffee of the East is the finest
in the world. I have found it so grateful and refreshing a
drink, that I can readily pardon the pleasant exaggeration of
the Arabic poet, Abd-el Kader Anazari Djezeri Hanbali, the
son of Mahomet, who thus celebrates its virtues. After such
an exalted, eulogy, my own praises would sound dull and tame ;
and I therefore resume my pipe, commending Abd-el Kader to
the reader.
" Coffee I thou dispellest the cares of the great ; thou
bringest back those who wander from the paths of knowledge.
Coffee is the beverage of the people of God, and the cordial
of his, servants who thirst for wisdom.- When coff«e is infused
iuto the bowl^ it,exhales the odor. of. musk, and is of the color
of ink. The truth is not: known except to the wise, who drink
it from the foaming coffee-cup. God has deprived fools of
Qoffee, who, with invincible obstinacy, coudemn it as injurious.
" Coffee is our gold ; and in the place of its libations we are
in the eqjpymetit of the best and noblest society. Coffee is
even as innocent a drink as ;the purest milk, from which it is
distiiiguished only by its color. Tarry with thy coffee m tho
place of its preparation, and the good God will hover over
thee and participate in his feast. There the graces of the
saloon, the luxury of life, the society of friends, all furnish a
picture of the abode of happiness.
" Every care vanishes when; the cup-bearer presents the deli*
eiouB chalice. It will circulate fleetly thrf^ngb iuj veins,^ and
TES PRAISE or COFFEE 136
will not rankle there : if thou doubtest this, contemplate the
youth and beauty of those who drink it. Grief cannot exist
where it grows ; sorrow humbles itself in obedience before its
powers.
" Coffee is the drink of God's people ; in it is health. Let^
this be the answer to those who doubt its qualities. In it we
will drown our adversities, and in its fire consume our sorrows
Whoever has once seen the blissful chalice, will scorn the wine-
cup. Glorious drink 1 thy color is the seal of purity, and
reason proclaims it genuine. Drink with confidence, and regard
not the prattle of fools, who condemn without foundation."
iS6 THE LANDS OF THE SARACBN
CHAPTER XIY.
JOURNEY TO ANTIOCH AND ALEPPO.
Cll3!i[e of Plans— Routes to Baghdad— Asia Minor— We sail from Beyrout— Taohtlnj
ou the Syrian Coast — Tartus and Lataliiyeh— The Coasts of Syria— The Bay of Sue.
diah— The Mouth of the Orontes— Landing— The Garden of Syria— Ride lo Antioch
— The Modern City — The Plains of the Orontes — Remains of the Greek Empire— Tlie
Ancient Road— The Plain of Keftin— Approach to Aleppo.
"The chain is loosed, the sails are spread,
The living breath is fresh behind,
As, with dews and sunrise fed,
Comes the laughing morning wind."
Shgllbt.
Aleppo, Jffiday, Jmie 4, 1852,
A. TRAVELLER in the East, who has not uubouuded time and an
extensive fortune at his disposal, is never certain where and
how far he shall go, until his journey is finished. "With but a
limited portion of both these necessaries, I have so far carried
out my original plan with scarcely a variation; but at present I
am obliged to make a material change of route. My farthest
East is here at Aleppo. A t Damascus, I was told by every-
body that it was too late in the season to visit either Baghdad
or Mosul, and that, on account of the terrible summer heata
and the fevers which prevail along the Tigris, it would be
imprudent to undertake it. Notwithstanding this, I should
probably have gone (being now so thoroughly acclimated that
I have nothing to fear from the heat), had I not met with a
ROUTES TO BAGHDAD. ISI
friend of Col. Rawlinson, the companion of Layard, and the
sharer in his discoveries at Nineveh. This gentleman, who
met Col. R. not long since in Constantinople, on his way to
Baghdad (where he resides as British Consul), informed me
that since the departure of Mr. Layard from Mosul, the most
interesting excavations have been filled up, in order to preserve
the sculptures. Unless one was able to make a new exhuma-
tion, he would be by no means repaid for so long and arduous
a journey. The ruins of Nineveh are all below the surface
of the earth, and the little of them that is now left exposed,
is less complete and interesting than the specimens in the
British Museum.
There is a route from Damascus to Baghdad, across the
Desert, by way of Palmyra, but it is rarely travelled, even by
the natives, except when the caravans are sufficiently strong to
withstand the attacks of the Bedouins. The traveller is
obliged to go in Arab costume, to leave his baggage behind,
except a meagre scrip for the journey, and to pay from $300 to
$500 for the camels and escort. The more usual route is to
come northward to this city, then cross to Mosul and descend
the Tigris — a journey of four or five weeks. After weighing
ail the advantages and disadvantages of undertaking a tour of
BucU length as it would be necessary to make before reaching
Constantinople, I decided at Beyrout to give up the fascinating
fields of tra'^el in Media, Assyria and Armenia, and take a
rather shorter and perhaps equally interesting route from
Aleppo to Constantinople, by way of Tarsus, Konia (Iconium),
and the ancient countries of Phrygia, Bithynia, and Mysia,
The interior of Asia Minor is even less known to ns than the
Persian side of Asiatic Turkey, which has of late received'
188 THE LANDS OF THE SABAJEK.
more attention from travellers ; and, as I shall trarersei it i\
its whole length, from Syria to the Bosphorus, I may find it
replete with " green fields and pastures new," which shall repay
me for relinquishing the first and more ambitious undertakiug.
At least, I have so much reason to be grateful for the nnint6^
rupted good health and good lack I have enjoyed during seven
months in Africa and the Qrient, that I cannot be otherwise
than content with the prospect before me.
I left Beyrout on the night pf the 28th of May, with Mr.
Harrison, v^ho has decided to keep me, company as far as Con-
stantinople. Trangois, pur classic dragoman, whose great
delight is to recite Homer by the sea-side, is retained for tha
whole tour, as we have found no reason to doubt his honesty
01 ability. Our first thought/was to proceed to Aleppo by
land, by way of Hpms and Hamah, whence there might be u
chance of reaching Palmyra ; but as we found an opportunity
of engaging an American, yacht, for the voyage up the coast,
it was thought preferable to take her, and save time. She was
a neat little craft, called, the " American Eagle," brought oat ))y
Mr. Smith, our Consul at Beyrout. So, one fine moonlit night,
we slowly crept out pf the harbpry and after returning a volley
of salutes from our friends at Demetri's Hotel, ran into the
heart oi a, thunder-storm, which poured down , more rain.than
all I had seen for eight months before., But our rais, Assad
(the Iiion), was worthy of his name, and had two good Chris-
tian sailors at his command, so we lay in the cramped little
cabin, and heard the flpods washing our d^ck, withpul
fear.
In the morning,, vire were off Tripoli, whicli is, even more
deeply biiried than Beyrput in its oi;auge and . mulberry groves j
THE COAST OF SYRU. 18S
and slowly wafted along the bold mountain-coast, in the after
noon reached Tartus, the Ancient Tortosa. A mile from shora
is the rockv island of Aradus, entirely covered by a town.
There were a dozen vessels lying in the harbor. The remains
of a large fortress and ancient mole prove it to have been a
place of considerable importance. Tartiis' is a small old jilace
on the sea-shore — not so large nor so important in anpearance
as its island-port. The country behind is green and hilly,
though but partially cultivated, and rises into Djebel Ansairi-
yeh, which divides the valley of the Orontes from the sea. It
is a lovely coast, especially under the flying lights and shadows
of snch a breezy day as we ha'd. The wind fell at sunset ; but
by the next morning, we had passed the tobacco-fields of Lata-
kiyeh, and were in sight of the southern cape of the Bay of
Suediah. The mountains forming this cape culminate in a grand
conical peak, about 5,000 feet in height, called Djebel Okrab.
At ten o'clock, wafted along by a slow wind, we turned the
point and entered the Bay of Suediah, formed by the embou'
chure of the River Orontes. The mountain headland of Akma
Dagh, forming the portal of the Gulf of Scanderoon, loomed
grandly in front of us across the bay ; and far beyond it, we
could just distinguish the coast of Karamania, the snow-capped
range of Taurus.
The Coasts of Syria might be divided, like those of Guinea,
according to the nature of their productions. The northern
division is bold and bare, yet flocks of sheep graze on the
slopes of its mountains ; and the inland plains behind them are
covered with orchards of pistachio-trees. Silk is cultivated in
the neighborhood of Suediah, but forms only a small portion
of the exports. This region may be called the Wool and Fi»
190 THE LANDS OF T^E SARACEN.
tuchio Coast. Southward, from Latakiyeh to Tartas and th4
northern limit of Lebanon, extends the Tobacco Coast, whose
undulating hills are now clothed with the pale-green leaves of
the renowned plant. From Tripoli to Tyre, embracing all the
western slope of Lebanon, and the deep, rich valleys lyhig
between his knees, the mulberry predominates, and the land ia
covered with the houses of thatch and matting which shelter
the busy worms. This is the Silk Coast. The palmy plains of
J affa, and beyond, until Syria meets the African sands between
Gaza and El-Arish, constitute the Orange Coast. The fine,
the olive, and the fig flourish everywhere.
We were all day getting up the bay, and it seemed as if we
should never pass Djebel Okrab, whose pointed top rose high
above a long belt of fleecy clouds that girdled his waist. At
sunset we made the mouth of the Orontes. Our lion of a
Captain tried to run into the river, but the channel was very
narrow, and when within three hundred yards of the shore the
yacht struck. We had all sail set, and had the wind been a
little stronger, we should have capsized in an instant. The lion
went manfully t6 work, and by dint of hard poling, shoved us
off, and came to anchor in deep water. Not until the danger
was past did he open his batteries on the unlucky helmsman, and
then the explosion of Arabic oaths was equal to a broadside
of twenty-four pounders. We lay all night rocking on the
swells, and the next morning, by firing a number of signal guns,
brought out a boat, which took us off. We entered the mouth
of the Orontes, and sailed nearly a mile between rich wheat
meadows before reaching the landing-place of Suediah — two oi
three uninhabited stone huts, with three or four small Turkish
craft, and a health officer. The town lies a mile or two inland.
THE GAKDEN OF SYRIA. 191
BjatteTed along the hill-side amid gardens so luxuriant as
almost to conceal it from view.
This part of the coast is ignorant of travellers, and we were
obliged to wait half a day before we could find a sufficient
number of horses to take us to Antioch, twenty miles distant.
When they came, they were solid farmers' horses, with the
rudest gear imaginable. I was obliged to mount astride of a
broad pack-saddle, with my legs suspended in coils of rope.
Leaving the meadows, we entered a lane of tbe wildest, rich-
est and loveliest bloom and foliage. Our way was overhung
with hedges of pomegranate, myrtle, oleander, and white rose,
in blossom, and occasionally with quince, fig, and carob trees,
laced together with grape vines in fragrant bloom. Sometimes
this wilderness of color and odor met above our heads and
made a twilight ; then it opened into long, dazzling, sun-
bright vistas, where the hues of the oleander, pomegranate and
white rose made the eye wink with their gorgeous profusion.
The mountains we crossed were covered with thickets of myrtle,
mastic, daphne, and arbutus, and all the valleys and sloping
meads waved with fig, mulberry, and olive trees. Looking
towards the sea, the valley broadened out between mountain
ranges whose summits were lost in the clouds. Though the
soil was not so rich as in Palestine, the general aspect of the
country was much wilder and more luxuriant.
So, by this glorious lane, over the myrtled hills and down
into valleys, whose bed was one hue of rose from the blossom-
ing oleanders, we travelled for five hours, crossing the low
ranges of hills through which the Orontes forces his way to the
sea At l^st we reached a height overltroking the valley of
the, riyer, and saw in the east, at the foot of the mountain
r92 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
cbain, the long lines of barracks built by Ibrahim Pasha foii
the defence of Antioch. Behind them the ancient wall of the
city elomb the mountains, whose crest it followed to the fest
peak of tho chain. From the next hill we saw the city — a
large extent of one-story houses With tiled roofs, surrounded
with gardens, add half buried in the foliage of sycamores. It
extends from the River Orontes, which washes its walls, up the
slope of the mountain to the crags ^of gray rock which over-
hang it. We crossed the river by a massive old bridge, and
entered the town. Riding along the rills of filth which tra-
verse the streets, forming their central avenues, we passed
through several lines of bazaars to a large and dreary-looking
khan, the keeper of which gave us the best vacant chamber^
a narrow place, full of fleas.
Antioch presents not even a shadow of its former splendor.
Except the great walls, ten to fifteen miles in circuit,' which
the Turks have done their best to destroy, every vestige of the
old city has disappeared. The houses are all of one story, on
account of eaf thqilakes, from which Antioch has suffered more
than any other city in the world. At one time, during* the
Middle Ages, it lost 120,000 inhabitants in one day. Its situ-
ation IS magnificent, and the modern town, notwithstanding its
filth, wears a bright and busy aspect. Situated at the base of
a lofty mountain, it overlooks, towards the cast, a plain thirtjf
or forty miles in length, producing the most abundant harvests.
A great number of the inhabitants are workers in wood and
leather, and very thrifty and cheerful people they appear to be.
We remained until the next day at noon, by which time a
gray-bearded scamp, the chief of the miMcairus, or muleteers,
succeeded in getting us five miserable beasts for the jounley
THE VALLEY OF THE ORQNTES. 1951
to Aleppo. On leaving the city, we travelled along a former
street of Antioch, part of the ancient pavement still remain-
ing, a7id after two miles came to the old wall of circuit, which
we passed by. a massive gateway, of lloman time. It is now
called Bah Boulos, or St. Paul's Gate. Christianity, it will
bo remembered, was planted in Antioch by Paul and Barna-
bas, and the Apostle Peter was the first bishop of the city.'
We now entered the great plain of the Orontes — a level sea,
rioting in the wealth of its ripening harvests. The river, lined
with luxuriant thickets, meandered through the centre of this
glorious picture. We crossed it during the afternoon, and
keeping on our eastward course, encamped at night in a mea-
dow near the tents of some wandering Turcomans, who fur-
nished us with butter and milk from their herds.
- Leaving the plain the next morning, we travelled due east
all day, over long stony ranges of mountains, inclosing only
one valley, which bore evidence of great fertility. It was cir-
cular, about ten miles in its greater diameter, and bounded on
the north by the broad peak of Djebel Saman, or Mount St.
Simon. In the morning we passed a ruined castle, standing in
a dry, treeless dell, among the hot hills. The muleteers called
it the Maiden's Palace, and said that it was built long ago by
a powerful Sultan, as a prison for his daughter. For several
hours thereafter, our road was lined with remains of buildings,
apparently dating from the time of the Greek Empire. There
were tombs, temples of massive masonry, though iu a bad style
of architecture, and long rows of arched chambers, which
resembled store-houses. They were all more or less shattered
by earthquakes, but in one place I noticed twenty such archeSf
each of at least twenty feet span. All the hills, on either
9
194 THE LANDS OP THE SARACEN.
hand, as far as we could see, were covered with the remains ot '
buildings. In the plain of St. Simon, I saw two superb pil-
lars, apparently part of a portico, or gateway, and the villags
of Dana is formed almost entirely of churches and conrents,
of the Lower Empire. There were but few inscriptions, and
these I could not read ; but the whole of this region would,
no doubt, richly repay an antiquarian research. I am told here
that the entire chain of hills, which extends southward for
more than a hundred miles, abounds with similar remains, and
that, in many places, whole cities stand almost entire, as if
recently deserted by their inhabitants.
During the afternoon, we came upon a portion of the ancient
road from Antioch to Aleppo, which is still as perfect as when
first constructed. It crossed a very stony ridge, and is much
the finest specimen of road-making I ever saw, quite putting
to saame the Appian and Flaminian Ways at Rome. It is
twenty feet wide, and laid with blocks of white marble, from
two to four feet square. It was apparently raised upon a more
ancieut road, which diverges here and there from the liae,
showing the deeply-cut traces of the Roman chariot-wheels. In
the barren depths of the mountains we found every hour
cisterns cut in the rock and filled with water left by the winter
rains. Many of them, however, are fast drying up, and a
month later this will be a desert road.
Towards night we descended from the hills upon the Plain of
Keftin, which stretches south-westward from Aleppo, till the
mountain-streams which fertilize it are dried up, when it is
merged into the Syrian Desert. Its northern edge, along
which we travelled, is covered with fields of wheat, cotton, and
castor-beans. We stopped all night at a village called Taireb,
APPEOjtCH TO ALEPPO." ''195
planted at the foot of a tumalus, older than tradition. The
people were in great dread of the Aneyzeh Arabs, who come
in from the Desert to destroy their harvests and carry off their
cattle. They wanted us to take a guard, but after our expe-
rience on the Anti-Lebanon, we felt safer without one.
Yesterday we travelled- for seven hours over a wide, rolling
country, now waste and barren, but formerly covered with wealth
and supporting an abundant population, evidences of which are
found in the buildings everywhere scattered over the hills. On
and on we toiled in the heat, over this inhospitable wilderness,
and though we knew Aleppo must be very near, yet we could
see neither sign of cultivation nor inhabitants. Finally, about
.three o'clock, the top of a line of shattered wall and the points
of some minarets issued out of the earth, several miles in front
of us, and on climbing a glaring chalky ridge, the renowned
• city burst at once upon our view. It filled a wide hollow or
basin among the white hills, against which its whiter houses
and domes glimmered for miles, in the dead, dreary heat of the
afternoon, scarcely relieved by the narrow belt of gardens on
•the nearer side, or the orchards of pistachio trees beyond. In
the centre of the city rose a steep, abrupt mound, crowned
with the remains of the ancient citadel, and shining minarets
shot up, singly or in clusters, around its base. The prevailing
hue of the landscape was a whitish-gray, and the long, stately
city and long, monotonous hills, gleamed with equal brilliancy
under a sky of cloudless and intense blue. This singula]
•monotony of coloring gave a wonderful effect to the view,
which is one of the most remarkable in all the Orient
i96 THE UNOS OF THE SARACEN.
CHAPTER XV.
LIFE IN ALEPPO.
Our Entry into Aleppo — We are conducted to a House — Our TJnexpecUd Wclceme— Tbs
Mystery Explained — Aleppo — Its Name — ^Its Situation — The Trade of Aleppc~Tho
Christians — The Revolt of 1S50— Present Appearance of the City — Visit to Osisan
Pasha — The Citadel — View from the Battlements — Society in Aleppo — Etiquette and
Costume — Jewish Marriage Festivities — A Christian Marriage Procession — Ride
around the Town — Niglitingales — The Aleppo Button— A Hospital for Cats — Ferhat
Pasha.
Aleppo, Tuesday, Jime 8, 1952.
Our entry into Aleppo was a fitting preliminary to our expe-
riences daring the five days we have spent here. After passing
a blackamoor, who acted as an advanced guard of the Custom
-House, at a ragged tt-nt outside of the city, and bribing him
with two piastres, we crossed the narrow line of gardens on
the western side, and entered the streets. There were many
cofiee-houses, filled with smokers, nearly all of whom accosted
us in Turkish, though Arabic is the prevailing language here.
Ignorance made us discourteous, and we slighted every attempt
to open a conversation. Out of the narrow streets of the
suburbs, we advanced to the bazaars, in order to find a khan
where we could obtain lodgings. All the best khans, however,
were filled, and we were about to take a very inferior room,
when a respectable individual came up to Francois and said ;
" The house is ready for the travellers, and I will show you the
AN UNEXPECTKD WELCOME. VA
(fay.''' We were a little surprised at this address, but followed
aim to a neat, quiet and pleasant street near the bazaars,
where we were ushered into a spacious court-yard, with a row
of apartments opening upon it, and told to make ourselves at
home.
The place had eTidently been recently inhabited, for the
rooms were well furnished, with not only divans, but beds ip
the Frank style. A lean kitten was scratching at one of the
windows, to the great danger of overturning a pair of narghi-
lehs, a tame sea-gull was walking about the court, and two
Bheep bleated in a stable at the further end. In the kitchen
we not only found a variety of utensils, but eggs, salt, pepper,
aud other condiments. Our guide had left, and the only infor-
mation we could get, from a dyeing establishment next door,
was that the occupants had gone into the country. " Take
the good the gods provide thee," is my rule in such cases, and
as we were very hungry, we set Frangois to work at preparing
dinner. We arranged a divan in the open air, had a table
brought out, and by the aid of the bakers in the bazaar, and
the stores which the kitchen supplied, soon rejoiced over a very
palatable meal. The romantic character of our reception made
the dinner a merry one. It was a chapter out of the Arabian
■Nights, and be he genie or afrite, caliph or merchant of Bas-
Bora, into whose hands we had fallen, we resolved to let the
adventure take its course. We were just finishing a nonde-
Bcript pastry which Francois found at a baker's, and which, for
want of a better name, he called T/ieringues a la Khorassan,
when there was a loud knock at the street door. We felt at
Drst some little trepidation, but determined to maintain oui
,)lacos, and gravely invite the real master to join us.
198 THE LANDS OF THE SAJIAQEN.
It was a female servant, however, who, to our grCTrt amaze-
ment, made a profound salutation, and seemed delighted to see
ns. " My master did not expect your Excellencies to-day ; he
has gone into the gardens, but will soon return. Will yonr
Excellencies take coflfec after yonr dinner ?" and coffee was
forthwith' served. The old woman was unremitting in her
attentiohs ; and her son, a boy of eight yea's, and the most
venerable child I ever saw, entertained us with the description
of a horse which his master had just bought — a horse which
had cost two thousand piastres, and was ninety years old.
Well, this Aleppo is an extraordinary place, was my first
impression, and the inhabitants are remarkable people ; but I
waited the master's arrival, as the only means of solving the
mystery. About dusk, there was another rap at the door. A
lady dressed in white, with an Indian handkerchief bound over
Iier black' hair, arrived. , "Pray excuse us," said she; "we
thought you would not reach here before to-morrow ; but my
brother will come directly." In fact, the brother did come
soon afterwards, and greeted us with a still warmer welcome.
"Before leaving the gardens," he said, "I heard of your arri-
val, and have come in a full gallop the whole way." In order
to put an end to this comedy of errors, I declared at once
that he was mistaken ; nobody in Aleppo could possibly know
of our coming, and we were, perhaps, transgressing on his
hospitality. But no : he would not be convinced. He was a
dragoman to the English Consulate ; his master had told him
we would be here the next day, and he must be prepared to
receive us. Besides, the janissary of the Consulate had showed
ns the way to his house. We, therefore, let the matter res*
nntil next morning, when we called on Mr. Very, the Consul,
ALEPPO— ITS NAME. 198
■who informed ns Ihat the janissary had mistaken us for two
gentlemen we had met in Damascus, the travelling companions
of Lord Dalkeith. As they had not arrived, he begged us to
remain in the quarters which had been prepared for them.
We have every reason to be glad of this mistake, as it has
made us acquainted with one of the most courteous and hospi-
table gentlemen in the East.
Aleppo lies so far out of the usual routes of travel, that it
is rarely visited by Europeans. One is not, therefore, as in the
case of Damascus, prepared beforehand by volumes of descrip-
tion, which preclude all possibility of mistake or surprise. For
my part, I only knew that Aleppo had once been the greatest
commercial city of the Orient, though its power had long since
passed into other hands. But there were certain stately asso-
ciations lingering around the name, which drew me towards it,
and obliged me to include it, at all hazards, in my Asiatic tour.
The scanty description of Captains Irby and Mangles, the only
one I had read, gave me no distinct idea of its position or
appearance ; and when, the other day, I first saw it looming
grand and gray among the gray hills, more like a vast natural
crystallization than the product of human art, I revelled in the
novelty of that startling first impression.
The tradition of the city's name is curious, and worth
relating. It is called, in Arabic, Haleb d-Skaftbn — Aleppo,
the Gray — which most persons suppose to refer to the prevail-
ing color of the soil. The legend, however, goes much farther.
Haleb, which the Venetians and Genoese softened into Aleppo,
means literally : " has milked." According to Arab tradition,
jha patriarch Abraham once lived here : his tent being pitched
near the mound now occupied by the citadel. He had a cer
200 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN,
tain gray cow (d-shahha) which was milked every morning foi
the benefit of the poor. When, therefore, it was iiroclaimed :
'■'Ibrahim hakh d-shaAba" (Abraham has milked the gray
cow), all the poor, of the tribe came up to receive their share
The repetition of this morning call attached itself to the spot
and became the name of the city which was afterwards
founded.
Aleppo is built on the eastern slope of a shallow upland
basin, through which flows the little River Koweik. There
are low hills to the north and south, between which the coun-
try falls into a wide, monotonous plain, extending unbroken
to the Euphrates. The city is from eight to ten miles in cir-
cuit, and, though not so thickly populated, covers a greater
extent of space than Damascus. The population is estimated
at 100,000. In the excellence (not the elegance) of its archi-
tecture, it surpasses any Oriental city I have yet seen. The
houses are all of hewn stone, frequently three and even four
stories in height, and built in a most massive and durable
style, on account of the frequency of earthquakes. The streets
are well paved, clean, with narrow sidewalks, and less tortuous
and intricate than the bewildering alleys of Damascus. A
large part of the town is occupied with bazaars, attesting the
splendor of its former commerce. These establishments are
covered with lofty vaults of stone, lighted from the top ; and
one may walk for miles beneath the spacious roofs. The shops
exhibit all the stuffs of the Bast, especially of Persia and
India. There is also an extensive display of European fabrics,
fis the eastern provinces of Asiatic Turkey, as far as Baghdad,
(.re supplied entirely from Aleppo and Trebizond.
Within ten years — in fact, since the Allied Powers drove
TRADE OF ALEPPO. 201
iBrahim Pasha oat of Syria — the trade of Aleppo has increased,
at the expense of Damascus. The tribes of the Desert, who
were held in check during the Egyptian occupancy, are now
so unruly that much of the commerce between the latter place
and Baghdad goes north ward to Mosul, and thence by a safer
road to this city. The khans, of which there are a great num-
ber, built on a scale according with the former magnificence of
Aleppo, are nearly all filled, and Persian, Georgian, and Arme-
nian merchants again make their appearance in the bazaars.
The principal manufactures carried on are the making of shoes
(which, indeed, is a prominent branch in every Turkish city),
and the weaving of silk and golden tissues. Two long bazaars
are entirely occupied with shoe-shops, and there is nearly a
quarter of a mile of confectionery, embracing more varieties
than I o'er saw, or imagined possible. I sawTyresterday the
operation of weaving silk and gold, which is a very slow pro-
cess. The warp and the body of the woof were of purple silk.
The loom only differed from the old hand-looms in general use
in having some thirty or forty contrivances for lifting the
threads of the warp, so as to form, by variation, certain pat-
terns. The gold threads by which the pattern was worked
were contained in twenty small shuttles, thrust by hand under
the different parcels of the vt*arp, as they were raised by a boy
trained for that purpose, who sat on the top of the loom. ' The
fabric was very brilliant in its appearance, and sells, as the
weavers informed me, at 100 piastres per pik — about $7 per
yard.
We had letters to Mr. Ford, an Americai. Missionary estab-
lished here,..",nd Signor di Picciotto, who acts as American
Vice-Gonsul-. Bot-hgentlemen ha?e been very cordial vu theii
202 THE LANDS OF THE SAPACEN.
offers of service, and by their aid we have been e&abled to- set)
Bomething of Aleppo life and society. Mr. Ford, who has been
here four years, has a pleasant residence at Jedaida, a Christian
suburb of the city. His congregation numbers some fifty or
sixty proselytes, who are mostly from the schismatic sects of
the Armenians. Dr. Smith, who established the mission at
Ain-tab (two days' journey north of this), where he died last
year, was very successful among these sects, and the congrega-
tion there amounts to nine hundred. The Sultan, a year ago,
issued a firman, permitting his Christian subjects to erect
houses of worship ; but, although this was proclaimed in Con-
stantinople and much lauded in Europe as an act of great
generosity and tolerance, there has been 30 official promulgar
tion of it here. So of the aid which the Turkish Government
was said to have afforded to its destitute Christian subjects,
whose houses were sacked during the fanatical rebellion of 1850,
The world praised the Sultan's charity and love of justice,
while the sufferers, to this day, lack the first experience of it.
But for the spontaneous relief contributed in Europe and
among the Christian communities of the Levant, the amouni
of misery would have been frightful.
To Feridj Pasha, who is at present the commander of tho
forces here, is mainly due the credit of having' put down the
rebels with a strong hand. There were but few troops in the
«ity at the time of the outbreak, and as the insurgents, who
;were composed of the Turkish and Arab population, were in
league with the Aneyzehs of the Desert, the least faltering or
delay would have led to a universal ma,ssacre of the Christians.
Fortunately, the. troops were divided into two portions, on«
occupyitg the barracks on a hill north of that oi
272 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
Ak-Sheher, Emir Dagh rose higher in the pale-blue sky, and
Sultan Dagh showed other peaks, broken and striped with
snow ; but around us were the same glorious orchards and
gardens, the same golden-green wheat and rustling phalanxes
of poppies — armies of vegetable Round-heads, beside the
bristling and bearded Cavaliers. The sun was intensely hot
during the afternoon, as we crossed the plain, and I became so
drowsed that it required an agony of exertion to keep from
tumbling off my horse. We here left the great post-road to
Constantinople, and took a less frequented track. The plain
gradually became a meadow, covered with shrub cypress, flags,
reeds, and wild water-plants. There were vast wastes of luxu-
riant grass, whereon thousands of black buffaloes were feeding..
A stone causeway, containing many elegant fragments of
ancient sculpture, extended across this part of the plain, but
we took a summer path beside it, through beds of jris in bloom
— a il-agile snowy blossom, with a lip of the clearest golden
hue. The causeway led to a bare salt plain, beyond which we
came to the town of Bolawadiin, and terminated our day's
journey of forty miles.
Bolawadiin is a collection of mud houses, about a mile long,
situated on an eminence at the western base of Emir Dagh.
I went into the bazaar, which was a small place, and not very
well supplied, though, as it was near sunset, there was quite a
crowd of people, and the bakers were shovelling out their
fresh bread at a brisk rate. Every one took mo for a
good Egyptian Mohammedan, and I was jostled right and left
nmong the turbans, in a manner that certainly would not have
happened rac had I not also worn one. Mr. H., who had
fallen behind the caravan, came up after we had encamped.
Bot,*WAnDK, 273
and might have wandered a long time withont finding us, bu*
for the good-natured efforts of the inhabitants to set him
aright. This evening he knocked over a hedgehog, mistaking
it for a cat. The poor creature was severely hurt, and its sobs
of distress, precisely like those of a little child, were to painful
to hear, that we were obliged to have it removed from the
vicinity of the tent
274 THE LANDS O* IIZE SARACEN.
CHAPTER XXII
THE FORESTS OF PHRYOIA.
Ihc Frontier of Phrygla— Ancient Quarries and Tombs— We Enter the Pine rorest*-*
Ouard-House — Encampments of the Turcomans— Pastoral Scenery— A Summer Til.
lage— The Valley of the Tombs— Rock Sepulchres of the Phrygian Kings— The Titan'l
Camp— The Valley of KUmbeh— A Land of Flowers— Turcoman Hospitality— The
Exiled EOendls — The Old Turcoman — A Glimpse of Arcadia — A Landscape — Inter-
ested Friendship- The Valley of the Pursek — Arrival at Kiutahya.
" And round us all the thicket rang
To man; a Bute of Arcady." Tesntsoit,
EiDTAHTA, Jidy 5, 18B2.
We had now passed through the ancient provinces of Cilicia,
Cappadocia, and Lycaonia, and reached the confines of Phrygia
— a rude mountain region, which was never wholly penetrated
by the light of Grecian civilization. It is still comparatively
a wilderness, pierced but by a single high-road, and almost
unvisited by travellers, yet inclosing in its depths many curious
relics of antiquity. Leaving Bolawadiin in the morning, we
ascended a long, treeless mountain-slope, and in three or four
hours reached the dividing ridge — the watershed of Asia
Minor, dividing the affluents of the Mediterranean and the
central lakes from the streams that flow to the Black Sea.
Looking back. Sultan Dagh, along whose base we had travelled
^bc previous day, lay high and blue in the background,
ANCIENT QUARRIES AND TOMBS. SIA
streaked with shining snow, and far away behind it arose
a still higher peak, hoary with the lingering winter. We
descended into a grassy plain, shut in by a range of broken
mountains,, covered to , their summits with dark-green, shrub-
bery, through which the strata of marble rock gleamed like
patches of snow. The hills in front were scarred with old
quarries, once worked for the celebrated Phrygian marble
There was neither a habitation nor a human being to be seen,
and the landscape had a singularly wild, lonely, and pictu-
resque air.
Turning westward, we crossed a high rolling tract, and
entered a valley entirely covered with dwarf oaks and cedars.
In spite of the dusty road, the heat, and the multitude of gad-
flies, the journey presented an agreeable contrast to the great
plains over which we had been travelling for many days. The
opposite side of the glen was crowned with a tall crest of shat-
tered rock, in which were many old Phrygian tombs. They
were mostly simple chambers, with square apertures. There
were traces of many more, the rock having been blown up or
quarried down — ^the tombs, instead of protecting it, only fur-
nishing one facility the more for destruction. After an hour's
rest at a fountain, we threaded the windings of the glen to a
lower plain, quite shut in by the hills, whose ribs of marble
showed through the forests of oak, holly, cedar, and pine, which
dotted them. We were now fully entered into the hill-country,
und our road passed over heights and through hollows covered
with picturesque clumps of foliage. It resembled some of the
wi\& western downs of America, and, but for the Phrygian
tombs, whose doorways stared at us from every rock, seeme^
as little familiar with the presence of Man.
3T6 THE LANDS OF THK SARACEN.
Iladji Youssiif, in stopping to arrange some of the baggage;
lost his hold of his mule, and in spite of every effort to secure
her, the provoking beast kept her liberty for the rest of the
day. In vain did we head her off, chase her, coax her, set
traps for her : she was too cunning to be taken In, and
marched along at her ea«e, running into every field of grain,
stopping to crop the choicest bunches of grass, or walkuig
demurely in the caravan, allowing the hadji to come within
arm's length before she kicked up her heels and dashed away
again. We had a long chase through the clumps of oak and
holly, but all to no purpose. The great green gad-flies
swarmed around us, biting myself as well as ray horse.
Hecatombs, crushed by my whip, dropped dead in the dust,
but the ranks were immediately filled from some invisible
reserve. The soil was no longer bare, but entirely covered
with grass and flowers. In one of the valleys I saw a large
patch of the crimson larkspur, so thick as to resemble a pool
of blood. While crossing a long, hot hill, we came upon a
little arbor of stones, covered with pine branches. It inclosed
an ancient sarcophagus of marble, nearly filled with water.
Beside it stood a square cup, with a handle, rudely hewn out
of a piece of pine wood. This was a charitable provision for
travellers, and constantly supplied by the Turcomans who lived
in the vicinity.
The last two hours of our journey that day were through a
glorious forest of pines. The road lay in a winding glen, green
and grassy, and covered to the summits on both sides with
beautiful pine trees, intermixed with cedar. The air had the
true northern aroma, and was more grateful than wine. Erery
turn of the glen disclosed a charming woodland view. It was
THE OtfARD-HOUSE. ' ; ' 271
Bi wild valley ol the northern hills, filled with the burning
lustre of a summer snti, and' canopied by the brilliant blue of
a summer sky. There Were signs* of the woodman's axe, and
the chaired embers of forest damp-fires. I thought of the
lovely cdnadas ia the pine forests behind Monterey, and could
really have imagined myself there. Towards evening we reached
a soUtary guard-house, on the edge; of- the forest. The glen
here opened a little, and a stone fountain of delicious water
furnished all that we wantfed for a camping-place. The . honse
was inhabited by three soldiers ; sturdy, good-humored fellows,
who immediately spread a mat in the shade for us and made ua
some excellent coffee. A Turcoman encampment in the neigh-
borhood supplied us with milk and eggs.
The guardsmen were good Mussulmans, and took us for the
same. One of them asked me to let him know when the sun
was down, and I prolonged his fast until it was quite dark,
when I gave him permission to eat. They all had tolerable
stallions for their service, and seemed to live pleasantly enough,
in their wild way. The fat, stumpy corporal, with his enor-
mously broad pantaloons and automaton legs, went down to
the fountain with his musket,; and after taking a rest and
sighting full five minutes, fired at a dove without hitting it.
He afterwards joined us in a social pipe, and. we sat on a car-
pet at the door of the guard-house, watching the splendid
raoonrise through the pine boughs. When the pipes had
burned out I went to bedj and slept a long,^ sweet sleep until
dawn.
We knew that the tombs of the Phrygian Kings could not
be far off, and^ on making inquiries of the corporal, found that
be knew the plate. It was not four hours distant, by a by-road
278 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
and as it would be impossible to reach it without a guide, hs
would give us one of his men, in consideration of a fee of
twenty piastres. The difficulty was evident, in a hilly, wooded
country like this, traversed by a labyrinth of valleys and
ravines, and so we accepted the soldier. As we were abont
leaving, an old Turcoman, whose beard was dyed a bright red,
came up, saying that he knew Mr. H. was a physician, and
could cure him of his deafness. The morning air was sweet
with the breath of cedar and pine, and we rode on through the
woods and over the open turfy glades, in high spirits. We
were in the heart of a mountainous country, clothed with ever-
green forests, except some open upland tracts, which showed a
thick green turf, dotted all over with park-like clumps, and
single great trees. The pines were noble trunks, often sixty
to eighty feet high, and with boughs disposed in all possible
picturesqueness of form. The cedar frequently, showed a solid
white bole, three feet in diameter.
We took a winding footpath, often a mere track, striking
across the hills in a northern direction. Everywhere we met
the Turks of the plain, who are now encamped in the moun-
tains, to tend their flocks through the summer months. Herds
of sheep and goats were scattered over the green pasture-slopes,
and the idle herd-boys basked in the morning sun, playing
lively airs on a reed flute, resembling the Arabic zumarra.
Here and there was a woodman, busy at a recently felled tree,
and we met several of the creaking carts of the country, haul-
ing logs All that we saw had a pleasant rural air, a smack
of primitive and unsophisticated life. From the higher ridges
over which we passed, we could see, far to the east and west,
other ranges of pine-covered mountains,, and in the distance
A TDRCOMAN VILLAGE. 37,9
tho cloudy lines of loftier chains. The trunks of the pinsi
were nearly all charred, and many of the smaller, trees dead,
from the fires which, later in the year, rage in these forests.
After four hours of varied and most inspiring travel, we
reached a district covered for the most part with oak woods — a
more open though still mountainous region. There was a sum-
mer village of Tui'ks scattered over the nearest slope — proba-
bly fifty houses in all, almost perfect counterparts of Western
log-cabins. They were built of pine logs, laid crosswise, and
covered with rough boards. These, as we were told, were the
dwellings of the people who inhabit the village of Khosref
Pasha Khan during the winter. Great numbers of sheep and
goats were browsing over the hills or lying around the doors
of the houses. The latter were beautiful creatures, with heavy,
curved horns, and long, white, silky hair, that entirely hid their
eyes. We stopped at a house for water, which the man
brought out in a little cask. He at first proposed giving us
yaowrt, and his wife suggested kdimak (sweet curds), which we
agreed to take, but it proved to be only boiled milk.
Leaving the village, we took a path leading westward,
mounted a long hill, and again entered the pine forests
Before long, we came to a well-built country-house, somewhat
resembling a Swiss cottage. It was two stories high, and
there was an upper balcony,, with cushioned divans, overlook-
ing a thriving garden-patch and some fruit-trees. Three or
four men were weeding in the garden, and the owner came up
and welcomed us. A fountain of ice-cold water gushed into a
stone trough at the door, making a tempting spot for our
breakfast, but we were bent on reaching the tombs. There
were convenient out-houses for fowls,, sheep, and cattle. The
280 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
herds were out, grazing ^^long the edges of the forest, and we
heard the shrill, joyous melodies of the flutes blown by th»
herd-boys.
We now reached a I'idge, whence we looked down through
the forest upon a longTalley, nearly half a mile wide, and bor^
dered on the opposite side by ranges of broken sandstone
crags. This was the place we sought— the Talley of the
Phrygian Tombs. Already we could distinguish the hewn
faces of the rocks, and the dark ' apertures to the chambers
within. The bottom of the valley was a bed of glorious
grass, blazoned with flowers, and redolent of all vernal
smells. Several peasants,' finding it too hot to mow, had
thrown their scythes along the swarths, and were lying
in the shade of an oak. We rode over the new-cut hay^
up the opposite side, and dismounted at the face bf , the
crags. As we approached them, the number of chambers
hewn in the rock, the doors and niches now open to thd
day, surmounted by shattered spires and turrets, gave the
whole mass the appearance of a grand, fortress in ruins. The
crags; which are of a very soft; reddish-gray sandstone,
rise a hundred and fifty feet from their base, and their sum-
mits are worn by the weather into the most remarkable
forms. ' ' ,
The principal monument is a bi'oad, projecting cliff, one
side of which has been cut so as to resemble the fagade of a
temple. The sculptured part is about sixty feet high by sixty
in breadth, and represents a solid wall with two pilasters
%t the ends, upholding an architrave and pediment, which
ts surmounted by two large volutes. The whole face of the
wall is c(«vered with ornameiits- resembling panelrwork, not ia
SEPCIiCHRES OF THE PHRYGIAN KIif.
■this valley, and others to the South and East. The manufac-
tories are near the city. I looked over some of the fabrics io
the bazaars, but found them nearly all imitations of European
stuffs, woven in mixed silk and cotton, and even more costly
than the silks of Damascus.
We passed the whole length of the bazaars, and then,
turning up one of the side streets on our right, crossed a
deep ravine by a high stone bridge. Above and below
us there were other bridges, under which a stream flowed
down from the mountains. Thence we ascended the height,
whereon stands the largest and one of the oldest mosques w
Brousa. The position is remarkably fine, commanding a view!
of nearly the whole city and the plain below it. We entered
the court-yard boldly, Fran9ois taking the precaution to speak
to me only in Arabic, as there was a Turk within. Mr. H.
went to the fountain, washed his hands and face, but did not
dare to swallow a drop, putting on a most dolorous expression
of countenance, as if perishing with thirst. The mosque was
a plain, square building, with a large dome and two minarets.
The door was a rich and curious specimen of the stalactilie
style, so frequent in Saracenic buildings. We peeped into the
wjndows, and, although the mosque, which does not appear to
be in common use, was darkened, saw enough to show that the
interior was quite plain.
Just above this edifice stands a large octagonal tomb, sur-
mounted by a dome, and richly adorned with arabesque cornices
and coatings of green and blue tiles. It stood in a small gar-
den inclosure, and there was a sort of porter's lodge at the
entrance. As we approached, an old gray-bearded man in a
green turban came out, and, on Pi-anyois, requesting entrance
THE TOMBS OF THE OTTOMAN SULTANS. 3J1
for US, took a key and conducted us to the building. Ho had
not the sh'glitest idea of our being Christians. We took off
our slippers before touching the lintel of the door, as the place
was particularly holy. Then, throwing open the door, the ola
man lingered a few moments after we entered, so as not to dis-
turb our prayers — a mark of great respect. We advanced to
the edge of the parapet, turned our faces towards Mecca, and
imitated the usual Mohammedan prayer on entering a nfosque,
by holding both arms outspread for a few moments, the i bring
ing the hands together and bowing the face upon thfja. This
done, we leisurely examined the building, and the o?i man was
ready enough to satisfy our curiosity. It was a r'ch and ele-
gant structure, lighted from the dome. The wais were lined
with brilliant tiles, and had an elaborate cornir a, with Arabic
inscriptions in gold. The floor was covered with a carpet,
whereon stood eight or ten ancient coffins, surrounding a larger
one which occupied a raised platform in the ceatre. They were
all of wood, heavily carved, and many of them entirely covered
with gilded inscriptions. These, according to the old man,
were the coffins of the Ottoman Sultans, who had reigned at
Brousa previous to the taking of Constantinople, with some
members of their families. There were four Sultans, among
whom were Mahomet I., and a certain Achmet. Orchan, the
founder of the Ottoman dynasty, is buried somewhere i&
Brousa, and the great central coffin may have been his. Fran-
yois and I talked entirely in Arabic, and the old man asked:
" Who are these Hadjis ?" whereupon F. immediately answered :
"They are Effendis from Baghdad."
We had intended making the ascent of Olympus, but the
lummit was too thickly covered with clouds. On the iiiorning
318 THE LAXDS OF THE SARACEN.
of the second day, therefore, we determined to take np the lint
of march for Constantinople. The last scene of our strange,
eventful history with the katnrgees had just transpired, bj
their deserting us, being two hundred piastres in our debt.
They left their khan on the afternoon after our arrival, ostensi-
bly for the purpose of taking their beasts out to pasture, and
were never heard of more. We let them go, thankful that
they had not played the trick sooner. We engaged fresh
horses for Moudania, on the Sea of Marmora, and dispatched
Fran9ois in advance, to procure a caique for Constantinople,
while we waited to have our passports signed. But after
waiting an hour, as there was no appearance of the precious
documents, we started the baggage also, under the charge of a
surroudjee, and remained alone. Another hour passed by, and
yet another, and the Bey was still occupied in sleeping off his
hunger. Mr. Harrison, ii> desperation, went to the office, and
after some delay, received the passports with a vise, but not, as
we afterwards discovered, the necessary one.
It was four o'clock by the time we left Bronsa. Our horses
were stiff, clumsy pack-beasts ; but, by dint of whips and the
sharp shovel-stirrups, we forced them into a trot and made
them keep it. The road was well travelled, and by asking .
everybody we met: "Bov, y6l Moudania yedermil" {" Is thin
the way to Moudania?"), we had no difBculty in finding it.
The 'plain in many places is marshy, and traversed by several
•streams. A low range of hills stretches across, and nearly
closes it, the united waters finding their outlet by a narrov»
valley to the north. From the top of the hill we had a grand
new, lookitig back over the plain, with the long line of Brousa's
minarets glittei"iug through the interminable groves at the foal
THE SEA OF MARMORA. 319
of the roountaln Olympus now showed a superb outline ; thfl
elouds hung about his shoulders, but his snowy head was
bare. Before us lay a broad, rich valley, exteuding in front to
the mountains of Moudania. The country was well cultivated
with large farming establishments here and there.
The sun was setting as we reached the summit ridge, where
stood a ilittle guard-house. As we rode over the crest, Olym-
pus disappeared, and the Sea of Marmora lay before us, spread-
ing oat from the Gulf of Moudania, which was deep and blue
among the hills, to an open line against the sunset. Beyond
that misty line lay Europe, which I had not seen for nearly
nine months, and the gulf below me was the bound of ray tent
and saddle life. But one hour more, old horse 1 Have pati-
ence with my Ethiopian thong, and the sharp corners of ray
Turkish stirrups : but one hour more, and I promise never to
molest you again 1 Our path was downward, and I marvel
that the poor brute did not sometimes tumble headlong with
me. He had been too long used to the pack, however, and his
habits were as settled as a Turk's. We passed a beautiful
village in a valley on the right, and came into olJve groves and
.vineyards, as the dusk was creeping on. It was a lovely
■country of orchards and gardens, with fouutaius spouting by
the wayside, and country houses perched on the steeps. In
•another hour, we reached the sea-shore. It was now nearly
dark, but we could see the tower of Moudania somr distance tc
the west.
Still in a continual trot, we rode on ; and as we 'Irew near,
Mr. H. fired his gun to announce our approaoh. At the
entrance of the town, we found the sourrudjee waitii> rilliants, and a long,
floating plume of bird-of-paradise feathe s. The diamond in
the centre of the rosette is of unusual size ; it was picked up
some years ago in the Hippodrome, and probably belonged to
the treasury of the Greek Emperors. The breast and collar
of his coat were one mass of diamonds, and sparkled in thft
early sun with a thousand rainbow gleams. His mantle ol
dark-blue cloth hung to his knees, concealing the deformity of
his legs. He wore white pantaloons, whi'.te kid gloves, and
patent leather boots, thrust into his golden stirrups.
A few officers of the Imperial househol 1 followed behind the
Sultan, and the procession then terminated. Including the
soldiers, it contained from two to three thousand persons. The
marines lined the way to the mosque of Sultan Achmed,
and a great crowd of spectators filled up the streets and the
square of the Hippodrome. Coffee was served to us, after
which we were all conducted into the inner court of the Serag-
lio, to await the return of the cortege. This court is not more
than half the size of the outer one, but is shaded with large
sycamores, embellished with fountains, and surrounded with
light and elegant galleries, in pure Saracenic style. The pic-
ture which it presented was therefore far richer and more
characteristic of the Orient than the outer court, where the
architectiire is almost wholly after Italian models. The portals
THE SULTAN ON HIS THRONE. 339
at either end rested on slender pillars, over which projected
broad eaves, decorated vi'ith elaborate carved and gilded work,
and above all rose a dome, surmounted by the Crescent. On
the right, the tall chimneys of the Imperial kitchens towered
above the walls. The sycamores threw their broad, coo?
shadows over the court, and groups of servants, in gala dresses,
loitered about the corridors.
After waiting nearly half an hour, the sound of music and the
appearance of the Sultan's body-guard proclaimed the return
of the procession. It came in reversed order, headed by the
Sultan, after whom followed the Grand Vizier and other Minis-
ters of the Imperial Council, and the Pashas, each surrounded
by his staff of officers. The Sultan dismounted at the entrance
to the Seraglio, and disappeared through the door. He was
absont for more than half an hour, during which time he
received the congratulations of his family, his wives, and the
principal personages of his household, all of whom came to kiss
his feet. Meanwhile, the Pashas ranged themselves in a semi-
sircle around the arched and gilded portico. The servants of
the Seraglio brought out a large Persian carpet, which they
spread on the marble pavement. The throne, a large square
seat, richly carved and covered with gilding, was placed in the
centre, and a dazzling piece of cloth-of-gold thrown over the
back of it. When the Sultan re-appeared, he took his seat
thereon, placing his feet on a small footstool. The ceremony
of kissing his feet now commenced. The first who had this
honor was the Chief of the Emirs, an old man in a green robe,
embroidered with pearls. He advanced to the throne, knelt,
kissed the Sultan's patent-leather boot, and retired backward
from the presence.
340 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEIf.
The Ministers and Pashas followed in single file, and, aftei
they had made the salutation, took their stati )ns on the right
hand of the throne. Most of them were fat, and their glitter-
ing frock-coats were buttoned so tightly that they seemed ready
to burst. It required a great effort for them to rise from their
knees. During all this time, the baud was playing operatic
airs, and as each Pasha knelt, a marshal, or master of ceremo-
nies, with a silver wand, gave the signal to the Imperial Guard,
who shouted at the top of their voices : " Prosperity to our
Sovereign ! May he live a thousand years 1" This part of the
ceremony was really grand and imposing. All the adjuncts
were in keeping : the pprtico, wrought in rich arabesque
designs; the swelling domes and sunlit crescents above ; the
sycamores and cypresses shading the court ; the red tunics and
peacock plumes of the guard ; the monarch himself, radiant
with jewels, as he sat in his chair of gold — all these features
combined to form a stately picture of the lost Orient, and for
the time Abdul-Medjid seemed the true representative of
Caliph Haroun Al-Raschid.
After the Pashas had finished, the inferior officers of the
Army, Navy, and Civil Service followed, to the number of at
least a thousand. They were not considered worthy to touch
the Sultan's person, but kissed his golden scarf, which was held
out to them by a Pasha, who stood on the left of the throne.
The Grand Vizier had his place on the right, and the Chief of
the Eunuchs stood behind him. The kissing of the scarf occu-
pied an hour. The Sultan sat quietly during al' this time, his
face expressing a total indifference to all that was going on.
The most skilful physiognomist could not have found in it thfl
shadow of an expression. If this was the etiquette prescribed
THE SHEKH EI.-ISLAM. 341
for ' Mm, he certainly acted it with marvellous siill and
Buccess.
The long line of officers at length came to an end, and 1
fancied that the solemnities were now over ; but after a pause
appeared the Shekh el-Islam, or High Priest of the Mahometau
religion. His authority in religious matters transcends that of
the Sultan, and is final and irrevocable. He was a very
venerable man, of perhaps seventy-five years of age, and his
tottering steps were supported by two mollahs. He was
dressed in a long green robe, embroidered with gold and pearls,
over which his white beard flowed below his waist. In hi?
turban of white cambric was twisted a scarf of cloth-of-gold.
He kissed the border of the Sultan's mantle, which salutation
was also made by a long line of the chief priests of the mosques
of Constantinople, who followed him. These priests were
dressed in long robes of white, green, blue, and violet, many
of them with collars of pearls and golden scarfs wound about
their turbans, the rich fringes falling on their shoulders. They
were grave, stately men, with long gray beards, and the wis-
dom of age and study in their deep-set eyes.
Among the last who came was the most important personage
of all. This was the Governor of Mecca (as I believe he is
called), the nearest descendant of the Prophet, and the succes-
sor to the Caliphate, in case the family of Othman becomes
extinct. Sultan Mahmoud, on his accession to the throne, was
the last descendant of Orchan, the founder of the Ottoman
Dynasty, the throne being inherited only by the male heirs.
He left two sons, who are both living, Abdul-Medjid having
departed from the practice of his predecessors, each of whom
slew Ms brothers, in order to make his own sovereignty secure
342 THE LANDS OK THE SARACEN.
He has one son, Muzad, who is about ten years old, so that
there are now three males of the family of Orohaa. In case
of their death, the Governor of Mecca would become Caliph^
and the soyereignty would be established in his family. He is
a swarthy Arab, of about fif'ty, with a bold, fierce face. He
wore a superb dress of green, the sacred color, and was fol-
lowed by his two sons, young men of twenty and twenty-two.
As he advanced to the throne, and was about to kneel and kiss
the Sultan's robe, the latter prevented him, and asked politely
after his health — the highest mark of respect in his power to
show. The old Arab's face gleamed with such a sudden gush
of pride and satisfaction, that no flash of lightning could have
illumined it more vividly.
The sacred writers, or transcribers of the Koran, closed the
procession, after which the Sultan rose and entered the Serag-
lio. The crowd slowly dispersed, and in a few minutes the
grand reports of the cannon on Seraglio Point announced the
departure of the Sultan for his palace on the Bosphorus. The
festival of Bairam was now fairly inaugurated, and all Stara-
boul was given up to festivity. There was no Turk so poor
that he did not in some sort share in the rejoicing. Our
fourth could scarcely show more flags, let off more big guns
or send forth greater crowds of excursionists than this Moslem
holiday.
SOJOURN AT CONSTANTINOPLB. Sii
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE MOSQUES OF CONSTANTINOPLE.
B^]ourn at Constantinople — Semi-European Character of the City — ^The Mo
" The morn is fiill of holiday, loud bells
With rival clamors ring from every spire ;
Cunningly-stattdned music dies and swells
In echoing places ; when the winds respire,
Light flags stream out liico gauzy tongues of fire.** — Ebats.
CiTASu, Sicily, Jfriday, Augmit 20, 1852.
I WENT on board the speronara iu the harbor of La Valetta at
the appointed hour (6 p. m.), and found the remaining sixteen
passengers already embarlied. The captain made his appear-
ance an hour later, with our bill of health and passports, and
»8 the sun went down behind the brown hills of the island, we
passed the wave-worn rocks of the promontory, dividing the
two harbors, and slowly moved off towards Sicily.
The Maltese speronara resembles the ancient Roman galley
more than any modern craft. It has the same high, curved
poop and stern, the same short masts and broad, square sails.
The hull is too broad for speed, but this adds to the security
361 THE LANDS OP THE SAHACEN.
of the vessel in a gale. With a fair wind, it rarely makes mon
than eight knots an hour, and in a calm, the sailors (if not too
lazy) propel it forward with six long oars. The hull is painted
ill a fanciful style, generally blue, red, green and white, with
bright red masts. The bulwarks are low, and the deck of such
a convexity that it is quite impossible to walk it in a heavy sea.
Such was the vessel to which I found myself consigned. It was
not more than fifty feet long, and of less capacity than a Nile
dahabiyeh. Thete was a ^Qrt of deck cabin, or crib, with two
berths, but most of the passengers slept in the hold. For a
passage to Catania I was obliged to pay forty francs, the
owner swearing that this was the regular price ; but, as I
afterwards discovered, the Maltese only paid thirty-six francs
for the whole trip. However, the Captain tried to make up
the money's worth in civilities, and was incessant in his atten-
tions to " your LordshipSj" as he styled myself and my com-
panion, Caesar di Cagnola, a young Milanese.
The Maltese were tailors and clerks, who were taking a
holiday trip to witness the great festival of St. Agatha. With
two exceptions, they were a wild and senseless, though good-
natured set, and in spite of sea-sickness, which exercised them
terribly for the first two days, kept up a constant jabber in
their bastard Arabic from morning till night. As is usual in
such a company, one of them was obliged to serve as a butt for
the rest, and " Maestro Paolo," as they termed him, wore such
a profoundly serious face all the while, from his searsickiiess,
that the fun never came to an end. As they were going to a
religious festival, some of them had brought their breviaries
along with them ; but I am obliged to testify that, after the
6r8t day, pravers were totally forgotten. The sailors, how-
SICILY. 'oSt
ever, wore linen bags, printed witli a figure of the Madonna,
around their necks.
The sea was rather rough, but Caesar and I fortified our
stomachs with a bottle of English ale, and as it was dark by
this time, sought our resting-places for the night. As we had
paid donble; placas were assured us in the coop on deck, but
beds were not included in the bargain. The Maltese, who had
brought mattresses and spread a large Phalansterian bed in
the hold, fared much better. I took one of my carpet bags
for a pillow and lay down on the planks, where I succeeded in
getting a little sleep between the groans of the helpless land-
lubbers. We had the poTimte, or west-wind, all night, but the
speronara moved sluggishly, and in the morning it changed to
•the greco'ievanle, or north-east. No land was in sight ; but
towards noon, the sky became clearer, and we saw the southern
coast of Sicily — a bold mountain-shore, looming phantom-like
in the distance. Cape Passaro was to the east, and the rest of
the day was spent in beating up to it. At sunset, we were
near enough to see the villages and olive-droves of the beauti-
ful shore, and, far behind the nearer mountains, ninety miles
distant,, the solitary cone of Etna.
The second night passed like the first, except that our
braised limbs were rather more sensitive to the texture of the
planks. We crawled out of our coop at dawn, expecting to
behold Catania in the distance ; but there was Cape Passaro
still staring us in; the face. The Maltese were patient, and wo
did not complain, though Caesar and I began to make nice cub
Gulations as to the probable duration of our two cold fowls
Bud three loaves of bread. The promontory of Syracuse was
barely visible forty miles ahead ; but the wind was against us,
366 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
and so another day passed in beating up the eastern coaEt
At dnsif, we overtook another speronara which had left Malta
two hours before us, and this was quite a triumph to oar cap-
tain. All the oars were shipped, the sailors and some of the
more courageous passengers took hold, and we shot ahead,
scudding rapidly along the dark shores, to the sound of the
wild Maltese songs. At length, the promontory was gained,
and the restless current, rolling down from Scylla and Charyb-
dis,' tossed our little bark from wave to wave with a reckless-
ness that would have made any one nervous but an old sailor
like myself.
" To-morrow morning," said the Captain, " we shall sail into
Catania ;" but after a third night on the planks, which were
now a little softer, we rose to find ourselves abreast of Syra-
cuse, with Etna as distant as ever. The wind was light, and
what little we made by tacking was swept away by the cur-
rent, so that, after wasting the whole forenoon, we kept a
straight course across the mouth of the channel, and at sunset
saw the Calabrian Mountains. This move only lost us more
ground, as it happened. Csesar and I mournfully and silently
consumed our last fragment of beef, with the remaining dry
crusts of bread, and then sat down doggedly to smoke and see
whether the captain would discover our situation. But no ';
while we were supplied, the whole vessel was at our Lordships'
command, and now that we were destitute, he took care to
make no rash offers. Ceesar, at last, with an imperial dignity
becoming his name, commanded dinner. It came, and the pork
and maccaroni, moistened with red Sicilian wine, gave ua
patience for another day.
The fourth morning dawned, and — Great Neptune he
THE GULF or CATANIA. 86!
praised ! — we were actually within the Gulf of Catania. Etna
loomed up in all his sublime bulk, unobscured by cloud or mist,
while a slender jet of smoke rising from his crater, was slowly
curling its wreaths in the clear air, as if happy to receive the
first beam of the sun. The towers of Syracuse, which had
mocked us all the . preceding day, were no longer visible; the
land-locked little port of Augusta lay behind us ; and, as the
wind continued favorable, erelong we saw a faint white mark
at the foot of the mountain. This was Catania. The shores
of the bay were enlivened with olive-groves and the gleam of
the villages, while here and there a single palm dreamed of its
brothers across the sea. Etna, of course, had the monarch's
place in the landscape, but even his large, magnificent outlines
could not usurp all my feeling. The purple peaks to the west-
ward and farther inland, had a beauty of their own, and in the
gentle curves with which they leaned towards each other, there
was a promise of the flowery meadows of Enna. The smooth
blue water was speckled with fishing-boats. We hailed one,
inquiring when the festa was to commence ; but, mistaking our
question, they answered : " Anchovies." Thereupon, a waggish
Maltese informed them that Maestro Paolo thanked them
heartily. All the other boats were hailed in the name of
Maestro Paolo, wiio, having recovered from his sea-sickness,
took his bantering good-humoredly.
Catania presented a lovely picture, as we drew near the
harbor. Planted at the very foot of Etna, it has a backgrcimd
such as neither Naples nor Genoa can boast. The hills next
the sea are covered with gardens and orchards, sprinkled with
little villages and the country palaces of the nobles — a rich,
cultured landscape, which gradually merges into the forests of
868 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN
oak and chestnut that girdle the waist of the great voico no.
But all the wealth of southern vegetation cannot hide the
footsteps of that Ruin, which from time to time visits the soil,
Half-way up, the mountain-side is dotted with cones of ashes and
cinders, some covered with the scanty shrubbery which centuries
have called forth, some barren and recent ; while two dark,
winding streams of sterile lava descend to the very shore,
where they stand congealed in ragged needles and pyramids.
Part of one of these black floods has swept the town, and,
tumbling into the sea, walls one side of the port.
We glided slowly past the mole, and dropped anchor a few
yards from the shore. There was a sort of open promenade
planted with trees, in front of us, surrounded with high white
houses, above which rose the dome of the Cathedral and the
spires of other churches. The magnificent palace of Prince
Biscari was on our right, and at its foot the Customs and
Revenue offices. Every roof, portico, and window was lined
with lamps, a triumphal arch spanned the street before the
palace, and the landing-place at the offices was festooned with
crimson and white drapery, spangled with gold. While we
were waiting permission to land, a scene presented itself which
recalled the pagan days of Sicily to my mind. A procession
came in sight from under the trees, and passed along the shore.
In the centre was borne a stately shrine, hung with garlands,
and containing an image of St. Agatha. The sound of flutes
and cymbals accompanied it, and a band of children, bearing
orange and palm branches, danced riotously before. Had the
image been Pan instead of St. Agatha, the ceremonies would
have been quite as appropriate.
The speronara's boat at last took us to the gorgeous landing'
THE SUSPECTED LIST. 568
{>Iace, where we were carefully counted by a fat Sicilian official,
and declared free from quarantine. We were then called into
the Passport Office, where the Maltese underwent a searching
examination. One of the officers sat with the Black Book, oi
list of suspected persons of all nations, open before him, and
looked for each name as it was called out. Another scanned
the faces of the, frightened tailors, as if comparing them with
certain reyolntionary visages in his mind. Terrible was the
keen, detective glance of his eye, and it went straight through
the poor Maltese, who vanished with great rapidity when they
were declared free to enter the city. At last, they all passed
the ordealy but Caesar and I remained, looking in at the door.
" There are still these two Frenchmen," said the captain. " 1
am no Frenchman," I protested ; " I am an American." " And
I," said Csesar, " am an Austrian subject." Thereupon we
received a polite invitation to enter ; the terrible glance softened
into a benign, respectful smile ; he of the Black Book ran
lightly over the C's and T's, and said, with a courteous inclina-
tion : "There is nothing against the signori." I felt quite
relieved by this ; for, in the Mediterranean, one is never safe
from spies, and no person is too insignificant to escape the ban,
if once suspected.
Calabria was filled to overflowing with strangers from all
])arts of the Two Sicilies, and we had some difficulty in finding
very bad and dear lodgings. It was the first day of i)i.Bfesta,
and the streets were filled with peasants, the men in black
velvet jackets and breeches, with stockings, and long white cot-
ton caps hanging on the shoulders, and the women with gay
silk shawls on their heads, after the manner of the Mexican
rthoza. In all the public squares, the market scene in Masa
16*
3T0 THE LANDS OF THK SARACEN.
niello was acted to the life. The Sicilian dialect is harsh and
barbaroas, and the original Italian is so disguised by the admix-
ture of Arabic, Spanish, French, and Greek words, that even
my imperial friend, who was a born Italian, had great difficulty
in understanding the people.
I purchased a guide to the festa, which, among other things,
contained a biography of St. Agatha. It is a beautiful speci-
men of pious writing; and I regret that I have not space to
translate the whole of it. Agatha was a beautiful Catanian
virgin, who secretly embraced Christianity during the reign of
Nero. Catania was then governed by a praetor named Quin-
tianns, who, becoming enamored of Agatha, used the most
brutal means to compel her to submit to his desires, but with-
out effect. At last, driven to the cruelest extremes, he cut off
her breasts, and threw her into prison. But at midnight, St.
Peter, accompanied by an angel, appeared to her, restored the
maimed parts, and left her more beautiful than ever. Quin-
tianus then ordered a furnace to be heated, and cast her
therein. A terrible earthquake shook the city ; the sun was
eclipsed ; the sea rolled backwards, and left its bottom dry ;
,he praetor's palace fell in ruins, and he, pursued by the ven-
jeance of the populace, fled till he reached the river Simeto,
where he was drownied in attempting to cross. " The thunders
of the vengeance of God," says the biography, " struck him
down into the profoundest Hell 1" This was in the jcat
252.
The body was carried to Constantinople in 1040, " although
the Catanians wept incessantly at their loss ;" but in 1126, two
B'rench knights, named Gilisbert and Goselin, were moved bj
ttugelic influences to restore it to its native town, vi hich they
THE ILLDMINATION, 311
accomplished, " and the eyes of the Catanians again burned
with joy." The miracles effected by the saint are numberless,
and her power is especially efficacious in preventing earth-
quakes and eruptions of Mount Etna. Nevertheless, Catania
has suffered more from these causes than any other town in
Sicily. But I would that all saints had as good a claim to
canonization as St. Agatha. The honors of such a festival, as
this are not out of place, when paid to such youth, beauty,
and " heavenly chastity," as she typifies.
The guide, which I have already consulted, gives a full
account of the festa, in advance, with a description of Catania.
The author says : " If thy heart is not inspired by gazing on
this lovely city, it is a fatal sign — thou wert not born to feel
the sweet impulses of the Beautiful 1" Then, in announcing
the illuminations and pyrotechnic displays, he exclaims : " Oh,
the amazing spectacle 1 Oh, how happy art thou, that thou
b"holdest it 1 What pyramids of lamps 1 What myriads of
rockets I What wonderful temples of flame ! The Mountain
himself is astonished at such a display." And truly, except
the illumination of the Golden Horn on the Night of Predes-
tination, I have seen nothing equal to the spectacle presented
by Catania, during the past three nights. The city, which has
been built up from her ruins more stately than ever, was in a
blaze of light — all her domes, towers, and the long lines of her
beautiful palaces revealed in the varying red and golden flamea
of a hundred thousand lamps and torches. Pyramids of fire,
transparencies, and illuminated triumphal arches filled the four
principal streets, and the fountain in the Cathedral square
gleamed like a jet of molten silver, spinning up from one of the
pores of Etna. At ten o'clock, a gorgeous display of fire-works
812 THE LANDS OF THE SAEACEN.
closed the day's festmties, but the lamps remained borning
nearly all night.
On the second night, the grand Procession of the Veil took
place. I witnessed this imposing spectacle from the balcony
of Prince Gessina's palaie. Long lines of waxen torches led
the way, followed by a military band, and then a company of
the highest prelates, in their most brilliant costumes, surround
ing the Bishop, who walked under a canopy of silk and gold,
bearing the miraculous veil of St. Agatha. I was blessed witb
a distant view of it, but could see no traces of the rosy hue
left upon it by the flames of the Saint's martyrdom. Behind
the priests came the Intendente of Sicily, Gen. Filangieri, the
same who, three years ago, gave up Catania to sack and
slaughter. He was followed by the Senate of the City, who
have jtist had the cringing cowardice to offer him a ball on
next Sunday night. If ever a man deserved the vengeance of
an outraged people, it is this Filangieri, who was first a Liberal,
when the cause promised success, and then made himself the
scourge of the vilest of kings. As he passed me last night in
his carriage of State, while the music pealbd in rich rejoicing
strains, that solemn chant with which the monks break upon
the revellers, in " Lucrezia Borgia," came into my mind :
" La gioja del profaai
' E un famo passagier' — "
[the rejoicing of the profane is a transitory mist.] I heard,
under the din of all these festivities, the voice of that Retribu-
tion which even now lies in wait, and will not long be delayed.
To-night Signor Scavo, the American Vice-Consul, took me
to the palace of Prince Biscari, overlooking the harbor, in
THE BrsCARI PALACE. 373
order to behold the grand display of fireworks from the eiid of
tlie mole. The showers of rockets and colored stars, and the
temples of blue and silver fire, were repeated in the dark, quiet
bosom of the sea, producing the most dazzling and startling
effects. There 'was a large number of the Catanese nobilitj
present, and among them a Marchesa Gioveni, <;he descendant
of the bloody house of Anjou. Prince Biscari is a benign,
courtly old man, and greatly esteemed here. His son is at
present in exile, on account of the part he took in the late
revolution. During the sack of the city under Filangieri, the
palace was plundered of property to the amount of ten thou-
sand dollars. The museum of Greek and Roman antiquitier
attached to it, and which the house of Biscari has been collect-
ing for many years, is probably the finest in Sicily. The state
apartments were thrown open this evening, and when I left, an
hour ago, the greater portion of the guests were going through
mazy quadrilles on the mosaic pavements.
Among the antiquities of Catania which I have visited, are
the Amphitheatre, capable of holding 15,000 persons, the old
Greek Theatre, the same in which Alcibiades made his noted
harangue to the Catanians, the Odeon, and the ancient Baths.
The theatre, which is in tolerable preservation, is built of lava,
like many of the modern edifices in the city. The Baths
proved to me, what I had supposed, that the Oriental Bath of
the present day is identical with that of the Ancients. "Why
80 admirable an institution has never been introduced into
Europe (except in the Boms Chirwii of Paris) is more than I
can tell. From the pavement of these baths, which is nearly
twenty feet below the surface of the earth, the lava of later
eruptions has burst up, in places, in hard black jets. The most
314 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
wonderful token of that flood which whelmed Catania two
hundred years ago, is to be seen at the Grand Benedictine
Convent of San Nicola, in the upper part of the city. Here
'the stream of lava divides itself just before the Convent, and
flows past on both sides, leaving the building and gardens
untouched. The marble courts, the fountains, the splendid
galleries, and the gardens of richest southern bloom and fra-
grance, stand like an epicurean island in the midst of the terri-
ble stony waves, whose edges bristle with the thorny aloe and
cactus. The monks of San Nicola are all chosen from the
Sicilian nobility, and live a comfortable life of luxury and vice.
Each one has his own carriage, horses, and servants, and each
his private chambers outside of the convent walls and his kept
concubines. These facts are known and acknowledged by the
Catanians, to whom they are a lasting scandal.
It is past midnight, and I must close. Caesar started this
afternoon, alone, for the ascent of Etna. I would have accom-
panied him, but my only chance of reaching Messina in time
for the next steamer to Naples is the diligence which leaves
here to-morrow. The mountain has been covered with clouds
for the last two days, and I have had no view at all compara-
ble to that of the morning of my arrival. To-morrow the
grand procession of the Body of St. Agatha takes place, but
I am quite satisfied with three days of processions and horse
races, and three nights of illuminations.
I leave in the morning, with a Sicilian passport, my own
availing me nothing, after landing.
XHE MOUNTAIN THREATENS. 875
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE ERUPTION OF MOUNT ETNA
me M. ontem Tlireateos — The Signs Incceaac — ^We Lears Catania— Gjrdens AraonR
the Lova— Etna Labors— Aci Reale— The Groans of Etna— The EruptioD— Gigantic
Tree of Smoke — Formation of the New Crater— We Lose Sigh t of the Mountain— Arrival
at Messina— Etna is Obscured- Departure.
* the shattered side
Of thundering .^tna, whose combustrble
And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire,
'fiubUmed with mineral fury, aid the winds.
And leave a singed bottom," MilToh.
Messina, Sicily, Monday, August 28, 1852.
The noises of the festival had not ceased when I closed my
letter at midnight, on Friday last. I slept soundly through
the night, but was awakened before sunrise by my Sicilian land-
lord. " 0, Excellenza ! have you heard the Mountain ? He is
going to break out again ; may the holy Santa Agatha protect
US I" It is rather ill-tuned on the part of the Mountain, was
my involuntary first thought, that he should choose for a new
eruption precisely the centennial festival of the only Saint who
is Einpposed to have any power over him. It shows a disregard
of female influence not at all suited to the present day, and I
scarcely believe that he seriously means it. Next came along
the jabbering landlady : " I don't like his looks. It was just
80 the last time. Come, Excelleiiza, you can see him from the
STB THE LANDS OF THE SARAC^.
back terrace." The sun was not yet risen, but the east was
bright with his coming, and there was not a cloud in the sky
All the features of Etna were sharply sculptured in the clear
air. From the topmost cone, a thick stream of white smoke
was .slowly puflfed out at short intervals, and rolled lazily down
the eastern side. It had a heavy, languid character, and I
should have thought nothing of tixe appearance but for the
alarm of my hosts. It was like the slow fire of Earth's
incense, burning on that grand mountain altar.
I hurried off to the Post Office, to await the arrival of the
diligence from Palermo. The office is in the Strada Etnea,
the main street of Catania, which runs straight through the
city, from the sea to the base of the mountain, whose peak
closes tlie long vista. The diligence was an hour later than
usual, and I passed the time in watching the smoke which con-
tinued to increase in volume, and was mingled, from time to
time, with jets of inky blackness. The postilion said he had
seen fires and heard loud noises during the night. According
to his account, the disturbances commenced about midnight.
I could not but envy my friend Caesar, who was probably at
that moment on the summit, looking down into the seething
fires of the crater.
At last, we rolled out of Catania. There were in the dili-
gence, besides myself, two men and a woman, Sicilians of the
secondary class. The road followed the sliore, over rugged
tracts of lava, the different epochs of which could be distinctly
traced in the character of the vegetation. The last great flow
(of 1679) stood piled in long ridges of terrible sterility, barely
allowing the aloe and cactus to take root in the hollows betweea
The older deposii^g were sufficiently decompQsed to nourisb
THE MOUNTAIN LABORS. 377
the olive and yine ; but even here, the orchards were studded
with pyramids of the harder fragments, which are laboriouslj
collected by the husbandmen. In the few favored spots which
have been untouched for so many ages that a tolerable depth of
Boil has accumulated, the vegetation has all the richness and
l)riUiancy of tropical lauds. The palm, orange, and pome-
p'anate thrive luxuriantly, and the vines almost break under
their heavy clusters. The villages are frequent and well built,
and the hills are studded, far and near, with the villas of rich
proprietors, mostly buildings of one story, with verandahs
extending their whole length. Looking up towards Etna,
whose base the road encircles, the views are gloriously rich and
beautiful. On the other hand is the blue Mediterranean and
the irregular outline of the shore, here and there sending forth
promontories of lava, cooled by the waves into the most fan-
tastic forms.
We had not proceeded far before a new sign called my
attention to the mountain. Not only was there a perceptible
jar or vibration in the earth, but a' dull, groaning sound, like
the muttering of distant thunder, began to be heard. The
smoke increased in volume, and, as we advanced further to the
eastward, and much nearer to the great cone, I perceived that
it eonmsted of two jets, issuing from different mouths. A
broad stream of very dense white smoke still flowed over the
lip of the topmost crater and down the eastern side. As its
breadth did not vary, and the edges were distinctly defined, it
was no doubt the sulphureous vapor rising from a river of
molten lava. Perhaps a thousand yards below, a much stronger
column of mingled black and white smoke gushed up, in regular
l)eats or pants, from a depression in the mountain side, between
318 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACEN.
two small, extinct cones. All this part of Etna was scarred
with deep chasms, and in the bottoms of those nearest the
opening, I could see the red gleam of fire. The air was per-
fectly still, and as yet there was no cloud in the sky.
When we stopped to change horses at the town of Aci
Reale, I first felt the violence of the tremor and the awful
fiternuess of the sound. The smoke by this time seemed to be
gathering on the side towards Catania, and hung in a dark
mass about half-way down the mountain. Groups of the vil-
lagers were gathered in the streets which looked upwards to
Etna, and discussing the chances of an eruption. "Ah," said
an old peasant, " the Mountain knows how to make himself
respected. When he talks, everybody listens." The sound
was the most awful that ever met my ears. It was a hard,
painful moan, now and then fluttering like a suppressed sob,
and had, at the same time, an expression of threatening and of
agouy. It did not come from Etna alone. It had no fixed
location ; it pervaded all space. It was in the air, in the
depths of the sea, in the earth under my feet — everywhere, in
fact ; and as it continued to increase in violence, I experienced
a sensation of positive pain. The people looked anxious and
alarmed, although they said it was a good thing for all Sicily ;
that last year they had been in constant fear from earthquakes,
and that an eruption invariably left the island quiet for several
years. It is true that, during the past year, parts of Sicily
and Calabria have been visited with severe shocks, occasioning
much damage to property. A merchant of this city informed
mc yesterday that his whole family had slept for two months
in the raults of his warehouse, fearing that their residence
might be shaken down in the night.
THE KKUPTION. 319
As we rode along from Aci Reale to Tasrmina, all the rat-
tling of the diligence over the rough road could not drown
the awful noise. There was a strong smell of sulphur in the
air, and the thick pants of smoke from the lower crater con
tinned to increase in strength. The sun was fierce and hot,
and the edges of the sulphureous clouds shone with a dazzling
whiteness. A mounted soldier overtook us, and rode beside
the diligence, talking with the postillion. He had been up to
the mountain, and was taking his report to the Governor oi
the district. The heat of the day and the continued tremoi
of the air lulled me into a sort of doze, when I was suddenly
aroused by a cry from the soldier and the stopping of the dili-
gence. At the same time, there was a terrific peal of sound,
followed by a jar which must have shaken the whole island.
We looked up to Etna, which was fortunately in full view
before us. An immense mass of snow-white smoke had burst
up from the crater and was rising perpendicularly into the air,
its rounded volumes rapidly whirling one over the other, yet
urged with such impetus that they only rolled outwards after
they had ascended to an immense height. It might have been
one minute or five — for I was so entranced by this wonderful
spectacle that I lost the sense of time — but it seemed instant-
aneous (so rapid and violent were the effects of the explosion),
when there stood in the air, based on the summit of the moun-
tain, a mass of smoke four or five miles high, and shaped pre-
cisely like the Italian pine tree.
Words cannot paint the grandeur of this mighty tree. Its
trunk of columned smoke, one side of which was silvered by the
sun, while the other, in shadow, was lurid with red flame, rose
for more than a mile before it sent out its cloudy boughs. Then
380 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN
parting into a thousand streams, each of which again- threw
out its branching tufts of smoke, rolling and waving in the air,
it stood in intense relief against the dark blue of the sky. Its
rounded masses of foliage were dazzlingly white on one side,
while, in the shadowy depths of the branches, there was a con-
stant ])lay of brown, yellow, and crimson tints, revealing the
central shaft of fire. It was like the tree celebrated in the
Scandinavian sagas, as seen by the mother of Harold Haiv
drada — that tree, whose roots pierced through the earth, whose
trunk was of the color of blood, and whose branches filled the
uttermost corners of the heavens.
This outburst seemed to have relieved the mountain, for thq
tremors were now less violent, though the terrible noise still
droned in the air, and earth, and sea. And now, from the
base of the tree, thi"ee white streams slowly crept into as many
separate chasms, against the walls of which played the fiicfcerr
ing glow of the burning lava. The column of smoke and flame
was still hurled upwards, and the tree, after standing about
ten minutes — a new and awful revelation of the active forces
of Nature — gradually rose and spread, lost its form, and,
slowly moved by a light wind (the first that disturbed the dead
calm of the day), bent over to the eastward. We resumed
onr course. The vast belt of smoke at last arched over the
strait, here about twenty miles wide, and sank towards the
distant Calabrian shore. As we drove under it, for some miles
of our way, the sun was totally obscured, and the sky, pre-
sented the singular spectacle of two hemispheres of clear bine,
with a broad belt of darkness drawn between them. There
was a hot, sulphureous vapor in the air, and showers of white
ashes fell, from time to time. We were distant about twelve
WE LOSE SIGHT OF ETNA. 381
miles, in a straight line, from the crater ; bnt the air was so
clear, even under the shadow of the smoke, that I coiild dis
tinctly trace the downward movement of the rivers of lava.
This was the eruption, at last, to which all the phenomena
of the moi'ning had been only preparatory. For the first time
in ten years the depths of Etna had been stirred, and I thanked
God for my detention at Malta, and the singular hazard of
travel which had brought me here, to his very base, to witness
a scene, the impression of which I shall never lose, to my dying
day. Although the eruption may continue and the mountain
pour forth fiercer fires and broader tides of lava, I cannot but
think that the first upheaval, which lets out the long-imprisoned
forces, will not be equalled in grandeur by any later spectacle.
After passing Taormina, our road led us under the hills of
the coast, and although I occasionally caught glimpses of Etna,
and saw the reflection of fires from the lava which was filling
up his savage ravines, the smoke at last encircled nis waist,
and he was then shut out of sight by the intervening moun-
tains. We lost a bolt in a deep valley opening on the sea, and
during our stoppage I could still hear the groans of the Moun-
tain, though farther off and less painful to the ear. As
evening came on, the beautiful hills of Calabria, with white
towns and villages on their sides, gleamed in the purple light
of the setting sun. We drove around headland after headland,
till the strait opened, and we looked over the harbor of Messina
to Capo Faro, and the distant islands of the Tyrrhene Sea.
I leave this afternoon for Naples and Leghorn. I have lost
already so ranch time between Constantinople and this place
382 THE lANDS OF THE SARACSN.
that I cannoi give up ten days more to Etna. Besides, I an
BO thoroughly satisfied with what I have seen, that I fear no
second view of the eruption eonld equal it. Etna cannot be
' ".en from here, nor from a nearer point than a mountain six or
eight miles distant. I tried last evening to get a horse and
ride out to it, in order to see the appearance of the eruption
by night ; but every horse, mule and donkey in the place was
engaged, except a miserable lame mule, for which five dollars
was .demanded. However, the night happened to be cloudy
so that I could have seen nothing.
My passport is finally en regk. It has cost the labors of
myself and an able-bodied valet-de-place since yesterday morning,
and the expenditure of five dollars and a half, to accomplish
thia great work. I have just been righteously abusing the
Neapolitan Government to a native merchant whom, from hia
name, I took to be a Frenchman, but as I am off in an hour oi
two, hope to escape arrest. Perdition to all Tyranny !
DNWMTTEN LINKS OK TRAVEL. 888
CHAPTER XXXII.
CIBRALTAR.
Dowritteu links of Travel— Departure from Southampton— The Bay of Biscay— Cintra
— Trafalgai^Glbraltar at Midnight— Landing— Search for a Palm-Tree— A Brilliant
Morning— The Convexl^ of the Earth— Sun-Worahip— The Rock.
■ " to the north-west, Cape St. Vincent died away,
Sunset ran, a burning blood-red, blushing into Cadiz Bay.
In the dlminest north-east distance dawned Gibraltar, grand and gray."
Brownimo.
GiBBALTAR, 8atwrda/y, JTmiember 6, 1853.
I LEAVE unrecorded the links of travel which connected Mes-
sina and Gibraltar. They were over the well-trodden fields of
Europe, where little ground is left that is not familiar. In
leaving Sicily I lost the Saracenic trail, which I had been fol-
lowing through the East, and firet find it again here, on the
rock of Calpe, whose name, Djebel d-Tarik (the Mountain of
Tarik), still speaks of the fiery race whose rule extended from
the unknown ocean of the West to " Ganges and Hydaspes,
Indian streams." In Malta and Sicily, I saw theii- decaying
watch-towers, and recognized their sign-manual in the deep,
guttural, masculine words and expressions which they have
left behind them. I now design following their footsteps
through the beautiful Beldd-d-Andaluz, which, to the eye of
384 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
the Meiek Abd-er-rahman, was only less lovely than the plains
of Damascus.
While in Constantinople, I received letters which opened to
me wider and richer fields of travel than I had already trar
versed. I saw a possibility of exploring the far Indian realms,
the shores of farthest Cathay and the famed Zipango of Marco
Polo. Before entering on this new sphere of experiences, how-
ever, it was necessary for me to visit Italy, Germany, and
England. I sailed from Messina to Leghorn, and travelled
thence, by way of Florence, Venice, iarid the Tyrol, to Munich
After three happy weeks at Gotha, and among the valleys of
the Thiiringian Forest, I went to London, where business and
the preparation for ray new journeys detained me two or three
weeks longer. Althoughthe comforts of European civilization
were pleasant, as a change, after the wild life of the Orient, the
autumnal rains of England soon made me homesick for the
sunshine I had left. The weather was cold, dark, and dreary,
and the oppressive, sticky atmosphere of the bituminous metro-
polis weighed upon me like a niglitmare. Heartily tired of
looking at a sun that could show nothing brighter than a red
copper disk, and of breathing an air that peppered my face
with particles of soot, I left on the 28th of October. It was
one of the dismalest days of autumn ; the meadows of Berk-
shire were flooded with broad, muddy streams, and the woods
on the hills of Hampshire looked brown and sodden, as if
slowly rotting away. I reached Southampton at dusk, but
there the sky was neither warmer nor clearer, so I spent the
evening over a coal fire, all impatience for the bright beloved
South, towards which my face was turned once more.
Tlie Madtas left on the next day, at 2 p.m., in the midst of
THE BAY OF' BISCAY. 386
a cheerless rain, which half blotted out the pleasant shores of
Southampton Water, and the Isle of Wight. The Madras
was a singularly appropriate vessel for one bound on such a
journey as mine. The surgeon was Dr. Mungo Park, and one
of my room-mates was Mr. R. Crusoe. It was a Friday,
which boded no good for the voyage ; but then my journey com-
menced with my leaving London the day previous, and Thurs-
day is a lucky day among the Arabs. I caught a watery view
of the gray cliffs of the Needles, when dinner was announced,
but many were those (and I among them) who commenced
that meal, and did not stay to finish it.
Is there any piece of water more unreasonably, distressingly,
disgustingly rough and perverse than the British Channel ?
Y"es : there is one, and but one — the Bay of Biscay. And as
the latter succeeds the former, without a pause between, and
the head-winds never ceased, and the rain continually poured,
I leave you to draw the climax of my misery. Four days and
four nights in a berth, lying on your back, now dozing dull
iinur after hour, now making faint endeavors to eat, or reading'
the feeblest novel ever written, because the mind cannot digest
stronger aliment — can there be a greater contrast to the wide-
awake life, the fiery inspiration, of the Orient ? My blood
Decame so sluggish and my mind so cloudy and befogged, that
I despiaired of ever thinking clearly or feeling vividly again.
"The winds are rude" in Biscay, Byron says. They are,
indeed : very rude. They must have been raised in some most
disorderly quarter of the globe. They pitched the waves right
over our bulwarks, and now and then dashed a bucketful of
water down the cabin skylight, swamping the ladies' cabin, and
setting scores of bandboxes afloat. Not that there was the
It
386 THE LANDS OF THE SABAOEN.
least actual danger ; but Mrs. would not be persuaded
that we were not on the brink of destruction, and wrote to
friends at home a voluminous account of her feelings. There
was an Irishman on board, bound to Italy, with his sister. It
was his first tour, and when asked why he did not go direct,
through France, he replied, with brotherly concern, that he .
was anxious his sister should see the Bay of Biscay.
This youth's perceptions were of such an emerald hue, that
a lot of wicked Englislwnen had their own fun out of him.
ITie other day, he was trying to shave, to the great danger of
slicing off his nose, as the vessel was rolling fearfully. "Why
don't you have the ship headed to the wind ?" said one of the
Englishmen, who heard his complaints ; " she will then lie .
steady, and you can shave beautifully." Thereupon the Irish-
man sent one of the stewards upon deck with a polite message
to the captain, begging him to put the vessel about for five
minutes.
Towards noon of the fifth day, we saw the dark, rugged
mountains that guard the north-western corner of the Spanish
Peninsula. We passed the Bay of Corunna, and routding the
bold headland of Fiuisterre, left the Biscayan billov s behind
us. But the sea was still rough and the sky clouded, although
the next morning the mildness of the air showed the change iu
our latitude. About noon that day, we made the Burlings, a
cluster of rocks forty miles north of Lisbon, and just before
sunset, a transient lifting of the clouds revealed the Rock of
Cintra^ at che mouth of the Tagus. The tall, perpendicular
clifis, and the mountain slopes behind, covered with gardens,
orchards, and scattered villas and hamlets, made a gvanil
though dim picture, which was soon hidden from our view.
lANDINQ AT GIBRALTAR. 387
- On the 4th, we were nearly all day crossing the month of
Hie liay of Cadiz, and only at sunset saw Cape Trafalgar afat
off, glimmering through the reddish haze. I remained on deck,
eis there were patches of starlight in the sky. After passing
the light-house at Tarifa, the Spanish shore continued to be
visible. In another hour, there was a dim, cloudy outline high
above the horizon, on our right. This was the Lesser Atlas,
in Morocco. And now, right ahead, distinctly visible, though
fifteen miles distant, lay a colossal lion, with his head on his
outstretched paws, looking towards Africa. If I bad been
brought to the spot blindfolded, I should have known what it
was. The resemblance is certainly very striking, and the light-
house on Europa Point seemed to be a lamp held in his paws.
The lights of the city and fortifications rose one by one, glit-
tering along the base, and at midnight we dropped ; anchor
before them on the western side.
. I landed yesterday morning. The mists, which had followed
me from England, had collected behind the Rock, and the sun,
still hidden by its huge bulk, shone upwards through them,
making a luminous background, against which the lofty walls
and jagged ramparts of this tremendous natural fortification
were clearly defined. I announced my name, and the length
of time I designed remaining, at a little office on the quay, and
was then allowed to pass into the city. A number of familiar
white turbans met me on entering; and I could not resist the
temptation of cordially saluting the owners in their own lan-
guage, The town is long and narrow, lying steeply against
the Rock. The houses are white, yellow and pink, as in
Spanish towns^ but the streets are clean and well paved.
There is a square, about the size of an ordinary building-lot
388 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
wher<3 a sort of market of dry goods and small articles 13 held
The " Club-House Hotel " occupies one side of it ; and, as I
look out of my window upon it, I see the topmost cliffs of the
Rock above me,, threatening to topple down from a height of
1,500 feet
My first walk in. Gibraltar was in search of a palm-tree
A.fter threading the whole length of the town, I. found two
small ones in a garden, in. the bottom of the old moat. The
sun was shining,, and his rays seemed to fall with double
warmth on their feathery crests. Three brown Spaniards;
bare-armed, were drawing water with a pole and bucket, and
filling the little channels which conveyed it to the distant vege-
tables. The sea glittered blue below ; an Indian fig-tree
shaded me ; but, oa the rock behind, an aloe lifted its blossom-
ing stem, some twenty feet high, into the sunshine. To
describe what a weight was lifted from my heart would seem
foolish to those who do not know on what little things the
whole tone of our spirits sometimes depends.
But if an even balance was restored yesterday, the opposite
scale kicked the beam this morning. Not a speck of vapor
blurred the spotless crystal of the sky, as I walked along the
hanging paths of the Alameda. The sea was dazzling nltrar
marine, with a purple lustre ; every crag and notch of the
mountains across the bay, every shade of brown or gray, or
the green of grassy patches, was drawn and tinted with a
pencil so exquisitely delicate as almost to destroy the perspect-
ive. The white houses of Algeciras, five miles off, appeared
close at hand : a little toy-town, backed by miniature hills
Apes' Hill, the ancient Abyla, in Africa, advanced to meet
Calpe, its opposing pillar, and Atlas .swept away to the east
THE CONVEXITY OF THE EARTB. 389
(fard, its blue becoming paler and paler, till the powers ol
•visiou finally failed. From the top of the southern point of
the Rock, I saw the mountain-sbore of Spain, as far as Malaga,
and the snowy top of one of the Sierra Nevada. Looking
eastward to the horizon line of the Mediterranean, my sight
extended so far, in the wonderful clearness of the air, that the
convexity of the earth's surface was plainly to be seen. Tlie
sea, instead of being a plane, was slightly convex, and the sky,
instead of resting upon it at the horizon, curved down beyond
it, as the upper side of a horn curves over the lower, when one
looks into the mouth. There is none of the many aspects of
Nature more grand than this, which is so rarely seen, that I
believe the only person who has ever described it is Humboldt,
who saw it, looking from the Silla de Oaraccas over the Carib-
bean Sea. - It gives you the impression of standing on the edge
of the earth, and looking off into space. From the mast-head,
the ocean appears either flat or slightly concave, and aeronauts
declare that this apparent concavity becomes more marked, tlie
higher they ascend. It is only at those rare periods when the
air is so miraculously clear as to produce the effect of no air — •
rendering impossible the slightest optical illusion — that our
eyes can see things as they really are. So pure was the atmo-
sphere to-day, that, at meridian, the moon, although a thin
sickle, three days distant from the sun, shone perfectly white
«nd clear.
As I loitered in the Alameda, between thick hedges of ever
blooming geraniums, clumps of heliotrope three feet high, and
luxuriant masses of ivy, around whose warm flowers the bees
clustered and hummed, I could only think of the voyage as a
hideous dream. The fog and gloom had been in my own eyea
390 THE LANDS or THE SARACEN :
and in my own brain, and naw the blessed sun, shining fall is
my face, awoke me. I am a worshipper of the Sun. I took
off my hat to him, as I stood there, in a wilderness of white,
crimson, and purple flowers, and let him blaze away in my face
for a quarter of an hour. And as I walked home with my
back to him, I often turned my face from side to side that I
might feel his touch on my cheek. How a man can live, who
is sentenced to a year's imprisonment, is more than I can
understand.
But all this (you will say) gives you no picture of Gibral-
tar. The Kock is so familiar to all the world, in prints and
descriptions, that I find nothing new to say of it, except that
it is by no means so barren a rock as the island of Malta,
being clothed, in many places, with beautiful groves and the
greenest turf ; besides, I have not yet seen the rock-galleries,
baying taken passage for Cadiz this afternoon. When I
return — as I hope to do in twenty days, after visiting Seville
and Granada — I shall procure permission to view all the forti-
GiUtions, aud likewise to ascend to the summit.
TOY ASK TO CADIZ. 391
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CADIZ AND SEVILLE.
roy«geto Cadii— Landing— The City— Its Streets— The Women of Cadiz -Embaika
tion for Seville— Scenery of the Guadalquivir— Custom House Examination- Thi
Guide— The Streets of Seville— The Giralda— The Cathedral of Seville— The Alcaiar-
Moorlsh Architecture— Pilate's House— Morning View from the Giralda— Old Wine
Hurillos — My Last Evening in Seville.
" The walls of Cadiz front the shore,
And shiisDier o'er the sea." R. H. Stoddakd.
" Beautiful Seville !
Of which I've dreamed, until I saw its towers ■
* In every cloud that hid ths setting sun." Gkorqe H. Borbr.
Skville, NtKemher 10, 1852.
I LEFT Gibraltar on the evening of the 6th, in the steamer
Iberia. The passage to Cadiz was made in nine hours, and we
came to anchor in the harbor before day-break. It was a cheer-
ful picture that the rising sun presented to us. The long white
front of the city, facing the East, glowed with a bright rosy
lustre, on a ground of the clearest bine. The tongue of land
on which Cadiz stands is low, but the houses are lifted by the
heavy sea-wall which encompasses them. The main-land con-
sists of a range of low but graceful hills, while in the south-
east the mountains of Ronda rise at some distance. I went
immediately on shore, where my carpet-bag was seized upon
899 THE LANDS OV THE S4RACEN.
by a boy, with the rich brown complexion of one (A
Murillo's beggars, who trudged off with it to the gate,
After some little detention there, I was conducted to a long,
deserted, barn-like building, where I waited half an hour before
the proper officer came. When the latter had taken his private
toll of my contraband cigars, the brown imp conducted me to
Blanco's English Hotel, a neat and comfortable house on the
Alameda.
Cadiz is soon seen. Notwithsta,nding its venerable age of
three thousand years — ^having been founded by Hercules, who
figures on its coat-of-arms — it is purely a commercial city, and
has neither antiquities, nor historic associations that interest
any but Englishmen. It is compactly built, and covers a
smaller space than accords with my ideas of its former splei.-
dor. I first walked around the sea-ramparts, enjoying the
glorious look-off over the blue waters. The city is almost in-
sulated, ihe triple line of fortifications on the land side being
of but trifling length. A rocky ledge stretches out into the
sea from the northern point, and at its extremity rises the mas-
sive light-house tower, 170 feet high. The walls toward the sea
were covered with companies of idle anglers, fishing with cane
rods of enormous length. On the open, waste spaces between
the bastions, boys had spread their Umed cords to catch singing
birds, with chirping decoys placed here and there in wicker
cages. Numbers of boatmen and peasants, in their brown
jackets, studded with tags and bugles, and those round black
caps which resemble smashed bandboxes, loitered about the
walls or lounged on the grass in the sun.
Except along the Alameda, which fronts the bay, the exte-
rior of the city has an aspect of neglect and desertion The
CADIZ. 89S
itrterior, howerer, atones for this in the gay and Kyely air of its
Btreets, which, though narrow, are regular and charmingly
clean. The small plazas are neatness itself, and one is too cod-
tent with this to ask for striking architectural effects. Tl)e
houses are tall and stately, of the most dazzling whiteness, and
though you could point out no one as a pattern of style, the gene-
ral effect is chaste and harmonious. In fact, there are two or
three streets which yon would almost pronounce faultless. The
numbers of hanging balconies and of court-yards paved with mar-
ble and surrounded wi£h elegant corridors, show the influence of
Moorish taste. There is not a mean-looking house to be seen,
and I have no doubt that Cadiz is the best built city of its size
in the world. It hes, white as new-fallen snow, like a cluster
of ivory palaces, between sea and sky. Blue and silver are its
colors, and, as everybody knows, there can be no more charm-
ing contrast.
I visited both the old and new cathedrals, neither of which
Is particularly interesting. The latter is unfinished, and might
have been a fine edifice had the labor and money expended on
its construction been directed by taste. The interior, rich as
it is in marbles and sculpture, has a heavy, confused effect.
The pillars dividing the nave from the side-aisle' vre enormous
composite masses, each one consisting of six Corinthian columns,
stuck around and against a central shaft. More satisfactory
to me was the Opera-House, which I visited in the evening,
and where the dazzling array of dark-eyed Gaditanas put a
stop to architectural criticism. The women of Cadiz are noted
for their beauty and their graceful gait. Some of them are
very beautiful, it is true ; but beauty is not the rule among
them. Their gait, however, is the most graceful possibla,
n*
394 TiiE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
Decause it is perfectly free and natural. The commonest senr.
ing-maid who walks the streets of Cadiz would put to shame a
whole score of our mincing and wriggling belles.
Honest old Blanco prepared me a cup of chocolate by sun-
rise next morning, and accompanied me down to the quay, to
embark for Seville. A furious wind was blowing from the
south-east, and the large green waves raced and chased one
another incessantly over the surface of the bay. I took a
heavy craft, which the boatmen pushed along under cover of
the pier, until they reached the end, when the sail was dropped
in the face of the wind, and away we shot into the watery
tumult. The boat rocked and bounced over the agitated sur-
face, running with one gunwale on the waves, and sheets of
briny spray broke over me. I felt considerably relieved when
I reached the deck of the steamer, but it was then diversion
enough to watch those who followed. The crowd of boats
pitching tumultuously around the steamer, jostling against each
other, their hulls gleaming with w^et, as they rose on the beryl-
colored waves, striped with long, curded lines of wind-blown
foam, would have made a fine subject for the pencil of Achen-
bach.
At last we pushed off, with a crowd of passengers fore and
aft, and a pyramid of luggage piled around the smoke-pipe.
There was a party of four Englishmen on board, and, on mak-
ing their acquaintance, I found one of them to be a friend to
some of my friends — Sir John Potter, the progressive ex
Mayor of Manchester. The wind being astern, we ran rapidly
along the coast, and in two hours entered the mouth of the
Guadalquivir. [This name comes from the Arabic wadi
lirkebeer — literally, the Great Val'ey.J The shores are a dead
BCENERy OF THE GUADALQUIVIR. 395
flat The right bank is a dreary forest of stunted pines, abound
ixig with deer and other game ; on the left is the dilapidated
town of San Lucar, whence Magellan set sail on his first voy-
age around the world. A mile farther is Bonanza, the port
of Xeres, where we touched and took on board a fresh lot of
passengers. Thenceforth, for four hours, the scenery of the
Guadalquivir had a most distressing sameness. The banks
were as flat as a board, with here and there a straggling
growth of marshy thickets. Now and then we passed a herds-
man's hut, but there were no human beings to be seen, except
the peasants who tended the large flocks of sheep and cattle.
A sort of breakfast was served in the cabin, but so great was
the number of guests that I had much diificulty in getting
anything to eat. The waiters were models of calmness and
deliberation.
As we approached Seville, some low hills appeared on the
left, near the river. Dazzling white villages were planted at
their foot, and all the slopes were covered with olive orchards,
while the banks of the stream were bordered with silvery birch
trees. This gave the landscape, in spite of the African
warmth and brightness of the day, a gray and almost wintry
aspect. Soon the graceful Giralda, or famous Tower of
Seville, arose in the distance ; but, from the windings of the
river, we were half an hour in reaching the landing-place.
One sees nothing of the far-famed beauty of Seville, on
approaching it. The boat stops below the Alameda, where
the passengers are received by Cnstom-House ofiicers, who, in
my case, did not verify the stories told of them in Cadiz. I
gave my carpet-bag to a boy, who conducted me along the hot
and dusty banks to the bridge over the Guadalquivir, where
396 THE LANDS OF TUB SARAOEiN.
he turned into the cily. On passing the gate, two loafer-lite
Innards stopped my baggage, notwithstanding it had already
been examined. " What 1" said I, " do you examine twice on
entering Seville ?" " Yes," answered one ; " twice, and even
three times ;" but added in a lower tone, '■ it depends entirely
on yourself." With that he slipped behind me, and let one
hand fall beside my pocket. The transfer of a small coin was
dexterously made, and I passed on without further stoppage
to the Fonda de Madrid.
Sir John Potter engaged Antonio Bailli, the noted guide of
Seville, who professes to have been the cicerone of all distin-
guished travellers, from Lord Byron and Washington Irving
down to Owen Jones, and I readily accepted his invitation to
join the party. Bailli is recommended by Ford as " fat and
good-humored." Fat he certainly is, and very good-humored
when speaking of himself, but he has been rather spoiled
by popularity, and is much too profuse in his critical remarks
on art and architecture. Nevertheless, as my stay in Seville
is limited, I have derived no slight advantage from his sei*-
vices.
On the first morning I took an early stroll through the
streets. The houses are glaringly white, like those of CadiZj
but are smaller and have not the same stately exteriors. The
windows are protected by iron gratings, of florid patterns,
and, as many of these are painted green, the general eiFect is
pleasing. Almost every door opens upon a patio, or court-
yard, paved with black and white marble and adorned with
flowers and fountains. Many of these remain from the time of
the Moors, and are still surrounded by the delicate arches and
brifliaut tile-work of that period. The populace in the streets
THE GIRAIDA. 39?
are entirely Spanish — the jaunty majo in his qneer black cap,
Kash, and embroidered jacket, and the nut-brown, dark-eyed
damsel, swimming along in her mantilla, and armed with the
irresistible fan.
We went first to the Cathedral, built on the site of tha
great mosque of Abou Youssuf Yakoub. The tall Giralda
beckoned to us over the tops of the intervening buildings, and
finally a turn in the street brought us to the ancient Moorisli
gateway on the northern side. This is an admirable specimen of
the horse-shoe arch, and is covered with elaborate tracery. It
originally opened into the court, or harani, of the mosque,
which still remains, and is shaded by a grove of orange trees.
The Giralda, to my eye, is a more perfect tower than the Cam-
panile of Florence, or that of San Marco, at Venice, which is
evidently an idea borrowed from it. The Moorish structure,
with a base of fifty feet square, rises to the height of two hun-
dred and fifty feet. It is of a light pink color, and the sides,
which are broken here and there by exquisitely proportioned
double Saracenic arches, are covered from top to bottom with
arabesque tracery, cut in strong relief. Upon this tower, a
Spanish architect has placed a tapering spire, one hundred feet
high, which fortunately harmonizes with the general design,
and gives the crowning grace to the work.
The Cathedral of Seville may rank as one of the grandest
Gothic piles in Europe. The nave lacks but five feet of being
as high as that of St. Peter's, while the length and breadth of
the edifice are on a commensurate scale. The ninety-three
windows of stained glass fill the interior with a soft and richly-
tinted light, mellower and more gentle than the sombre twi-
light of the Gothic Cathedrals of Europe. The weaW
898 THE WNDS Oi THE SAKACEN
larished on the smaller chapels and shrines is prodigioas, aad
the high altar, inclosed within a gilded railing fifty feet high, is
probably the most enormoas mass of wood-carving in existence.
The Cathedral, in fact, is encumbered with its riches. W'lile
they bewilder you as monuments of human labor aad patience,
they detract from the grand simplicity of the building. The
great nave, on each side of the transept, is quite blocked up, so
that the choir and magnificent royal chapel behind it have
almost the effect of detached edifices.
We returned again this morning, remaining two hours, and
Succeeded in making a thorough survey, including a number of
trashy pictures and barbarously rich shrines. Murillo's
" Guardian Angel" and the " Vision of St. Antonio " are tho
only gems. The treasury contains a number of sacred vessels
of silver, gold and jewels — among other things, the keys of
Moorish Seville, a cross made of the first gold brought from
the New-World by Columbus, and another from that robbed
in Mexico by Cortez. The Cathedral won my admiration
more and more. The placing of the numerous windows, and
their rich coloring, produce the most glorious effects of light in
the lofty aisles, and one is constantly finding new vistas, new
combinations of pillar, arch and shrine. The building is in
itself a treasury of the grandest Gothic pictures.
From the Cathedral we went to the Alcazar {El-Kasr), or
I alace of the Moorish Kings. We entered by a long passage,
with round arches on either side, resting on twin pillars, placed
at right angles to the Une of the arch, as one sees both in
Saracenic and Byzantine structures. Finally, old Bailli
brought us into a dull, deserted court-yard, where we W3re
surprised by the s'ght of an entire Moorish fa9ade, with ita
THE ALCAZAR. 399
pointed arches, its projecting roof, its rich sculptured ornaments
and its illuminations of red, blue, green and gold. It has been
lately restored, and now rivals in freshness and brilliancy any
of the rich houses of Damascus. A doorway, entirely too low
and mean for the splendor of the walls above it, admitted us into
the first court. On each side of the pa,ssage are the rooms of
the guard and the Moorish nobles. Within, all is pure
Saracenic, and absolutely perfect in its grace and richness. It
is the realization of an Oriental dream ; it is the poetry and
luxury of the East in tangible forms. Where so much depends
on the proportion and harmony of the different parts — on those
correspondences, the union of which creates that nameless soul
of the work, which cannot be expressed in words — it is useless
to describe details. From first to last — the chambers of state ;
the fringed arches ; the open tracery, ligljt and frail as the
frost-stars crystallized on a window-pane ; the courts, fit to be
vestibules to Paradise ; the audience-hall, with its wondrous
sculptures, its columns and pavement of marble, and its gilded
dome ; the garden, gorgeous with its palm, banana, and
orange-trees — all were in perfect keeping, all jewels of equal
lustre, forming a diadem which still lends a royal dignity to the
phantom of Moorish power.
We then passed into the gardens laid out by the Spanish
monarchs — trim, mathematical designs, in box and myrtle,
with concealed fountains springing up everywhere unawares
in the midst of the paven walks ; yet still made beautiful
by the roses and jessamines that hung in rank clnnters over thj
marble balustrades, and by the clumps of tall orange trees,
bending to earth under the weight of their fruitage. We
afterward visited ' Pilate's House, as it is called— a line Span
too THE LANDS OP THE SARACEN.
lEh-Moresco palace, now belonging to the Duke of Medinii
Coeli. It is very rich and elegant, but stands- in the same
relation to the Alcazar as a good copy does to the origiual
picture. The grand staircase, nevertheless, is a marvel of tile
work, unlike anything else in Seville, and exhibits a genius in
the invention of elaborate ornamental patterns, which is truly
wonderful. A number of workmen were busy in restoring the
palace, to fit it for the residence of the young Duke. The
Moorish sculptures are reproduced in plaster, which, at least,
has a better effect than the fatal whitewash under which the
original tints of the Alcazar are hidden. In the courts stand a
number of Roman busts — Spanish antiquities, and therefore
not of great merit — singularly out of place in niches sur-
rounded by Arabic devices and sentences from the Koran.
This morning, I climbed the Giralda. The sun had just
risen, and the day was fresh and crystal-clear. A little door
in the Cathedral, near the foot of the tower, stood open, and 1
entered. A rather slovenly Sevillana had just completed her
toilet, but two children were still in undress. However, she
opened a door in the tower, and I went up without hindrance.
The ascent is by easy ramps, and I walked four hundred yards,
or nearly a quarter of a mile, before reaching the top of the
Moorish part. The panoramic view was superb. To the east
and west, the Great Valley made a level line on a far-distant
horizon. There were ranges of hills in the north and south,
and those rising near the city, clothed in a gray mantle of olive-
trees, were picturesquely crowned with villages. The Guadal-
quivir, winding in the most sinuous mazes, had no longer a
turbid hue ; he reflected the blue morning sky, and gleamed
brightly between his borders of birch and willow. Seville
OLD WINES^MURII.I.OS, 4Q1
sparkled white and fair under my feet, her painted towers and
tiled domes rising thickly out of the mass of buildings. The
level sun threw shadows into the numberless courts, permitting
the mixture of Spanish and Moorish architecture to be plainly
discerned, even at that height. A thin golden vapor softened
the features of the landscape, towards the sun, while, on the
opposite side, every object stood out in the sharpest and
clearest outlines.
On our way to the Museo, Bailli took us to the house of a
friend of his, in order that we might taste real Manzanilla
wine. This is a pale, straw-colored vintage, produced in the
valley of the Guadalquivir. It is flavored with camoniile
blossoms, and is said to be a fine tonic for weak stomachs
The master then produced a dark-red wine, which he declared
to be thirty years old. It was almost a syrup in consistence,
and tasted more of sarsaparilla than grapes. None of us
relished it, except Bailli, who was so inspired by the draught,
that he sang us two Moorish songs and an Andalusian catch,
full of fun and drollery.
The Museo contains a great amount of bad pictures, but it
also contains twenty-three of Murillo's works, many of them
of his best period. To those who have only seen his tender,
spiritual "-Conceptions" and "Assumptions," his "Vision of
St. Francis" in this gallery reveals a mastery of the higher
walks of his art, which they would not have anticipated. Bui
it is in his " Cherubs" and his " Infant Christs" that he excels.
No one ever painted infantile grace and beauty with so true a
pencil. There is but one Velasquez in the collection, and the
only thing that interested me, in two halls filled with rubbish,
was a "Conception" by Murillo's mulatto pupil, said by some
402 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN
to have been his slave. Although an imitation of the great
master, it is a picture of much sweetness and beauty. There
is no other work of the artist in existence, and this, as the
only production of the kind by a painter of mixed African
lilood, ought to belong to the Republic of Liberia.
Among the other guests at the Fonda de Madrid is Mr.
Thomas Hobhouse, brother of Byron's friend. We had a
pleasant party in the Court this evening, listening to blind
Pepe, who sang to his guitar a medley of merry Andalusian
refrains. Singing made the old man courageous, and, at the
close, he gave us the radical song of Spain, which is now
strictly prohibited. The air is charming, but too gay ; one
would sooner dance than fight to its measures. It does not
bring the hand to the sword, like the glorious Marseillaise.
Adios, beautiful Seville 1
BPANISH DILIGENCE IJNE8. 403
CHAPTER XXXIV.
JOURNEY IN A SPANISH DILIGENCE.
gpinlsli Diligence TS Oi-" THE SARACEN.
a thousand combinations, not one of which is in discord with the
grand design. It is useless to attempt a detailed description of
this architecture ; and it is so unlike anything else in the world,
that, like Karnak and Baalbec, those only know the Albambra
who see it. When you can weave stone, and hang your halls
with marble tapestry, you may rival it. It is nothing to me
that these ornaments are stucco ; to sculpture them in marble
is only the work of the hands. Their great excellence is in the
design, which, like all great things, suggests even more than it
gives.. If I could create all that the Court of Lions suggested
to me for its completion, it would fulfil the dream of King
Sheddad, and surpass the palaces of the Moslem Paradise.
The pavilions of the Court of Lions, and the halls which
open into it, on either side, approach the nearest to their origi-
nal perfection. The floors are marble, the wainscoting of
painted tiles, the walls of embroidery, still gleaming with the
softened lustre of their original tints, and the lofty conical
domes seem to be huge sparry crystalizations, hung with drop-
ping stalactites, rather than any work of the human hand.
Each of these domes is composed of five thousand separate
pieces, and the pendent prismatic blocks, colored and gilded,
gradually resolve themselves, as you gaze, into the most intri-
cate and elegant designs. But you must study long ere you
have won all the secret of their beauty. To comprehend them,
one should spend a whole day, lying on his back, under each
one. Mateo spread his cloak for me in the fountain in tha
Hall of the Abencerrages, over the blood-stains made by the
decapitation of those gallant chiefs, and I lay half an hour
looking upward : and , this is what I made out of the dome.
From its centra pinnacle hung the chalice of a flower with
THE MARVELLOUS DOMES. 425
feathery petals, like the " crape myrtle " of our Southern States
Outside of this, branched downward the eight r^ys of a large
star, whose points touched the base of the dome ; yet the star
was itself composed of flowers, while between its rays and
around its points fell a shower of blossoms, shells, and sparry
drops. From the base of the dome hung a gorgeous pattern
of lace, with a fringe of bugles, projecting into eight points so
as to form a star of drapery, hanging from the points of the
flowery star in the dome. The spaces between the angles were
filled with masses of stalactites, dropping one below the other,
till they tapered into the plain square sides of the hall.
In the Hall of the Two Sisters, I lay likewise for a con-
siderable time, resolving its misty glories into shape. The
dome was still more suggestive of flowers. The highest and
central piece was a deep trumpet-flower, whose mouth was
cleft into eight petals. It hung in the centre of a superb
lotus-cup, the leaves of which were exquisitely veined and
chased. Still further below swung a mass of mimosa blossoms,
intermixed with pods and lance-like leaves, and around the
base of the dome opened the bells of sixteen gorgeous tulips.
These pictures may not be very intelligible, but I know not
how else to paint the effect of this fairy architecture.
In Granada, as in Seville and Cordova, one's sympathies are
wholly with the Moors. Tiie few mutilated traces which still
remain of their power, taste, and refinement, surpass any of the
monuments erected by the race which conquered them. The
Moorish Dynasty in Spain was truly, as Irving observes, a
splendid exotic, doomed never to take a lasting root in the soil
[t was choked to death by the native weeds ; and, in place of
.andfe richly cnl'Livated and teeming with plenty, we now hava
426 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN
barren and almost depopulated wastes — in iilace of education,
industry, and the cultivation of the arts and sciences, an
enslaved, ignorant and degenerate race. Andalusia would be
far more prosperous at this day, had she remained in Moslem
hands. True, she would not have received that Faith which
is yet destined to be the redemption of the world, but the doc-
trines of Mahomet are more acceptable to God, and more
beneficial to Man than those of that Inquisition, which, in
Spain alone, has shed ten times as much Christian blood as all
the Moslem races together for the last six centuries. It is not
from a mere romantic interest that I lament the fate of Boab-
dil, and the extinction of his dynasty. Had he been a king
worthy to reign in those wonderful halls, he never would have
left them. Had he perished there, fighting to the last, ha
would have been freed from forty years of weary exile and an
obscure death. Well did Charles V. observe, when speaking
of him : " Better a tomb in the Alhambra than a palace in the
A.lpajar.as 1"
CHANGE OF WEATHER. 427
CHA.PTER XXXVI.
THE BEIDLE-EOADS OF ANDALUSIA.
Ofaa^xe cF Weather— rNapoleon and his Horses— Departure from Granada— My Gaide,
J056 Oargia — His Domestic Troubles — The Tragedy of the Umbrella — The Vow againts
Aguardiente — Grassing the Vega — The Sierra Nevada — Tlie Baths of Alhama — " Woe
is Me, Alhama !"— The Valley of the River Velez— Velez Malaga— The Coast Road—
The Fisherman and his Donkey — Malaga — Summer Scenery — The Story of Don Pedro,
without Fear and without Care — The Field of Monda — A Lonely Venta.
Vbnta de Villalon, November 20^ 1852.
The clouds broke away before I bad been two hours in the
Alhambra, and the sunshine fell broad and warm into its
courts. They must be roofed with blue sky, in order to give
the full impression of th«ir brightness and beauty. Matetf
procured me a bottle of vino rancio, and we drank it together
in the Court of Lions. Six hours had passed away before 1
knew it, and I reluctantly prepared to leave. The clouds by
this time had disappeared ; the Vega slept in brilliant sunshine,
and the peaks of the Sierra Nevada shone white and cold
against the sky.
On reaching the hotel, I found a little man, nicknamed
Napoleon, awaiting me. He was desirous to furnish me with
horses, and, having a prophetic knowledge of the weather,
promised me a bright sky as far as Gibraltar. " I furnish all
the sefiors," said he ; " they know me, and never complain of'
428 THE. LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
me or my horses ;" but, by way of security, on making the bar-
gain, I threatened to put up a card in the hotel at Gibraltar,
warning all travellers against him, in case I was not satisfied.
My contract was for two horses and a guide, who were to be
ready at sunrise the next morning. Napoleon was as good aa
his word ; and before I had finished an early cup of chocolate,
there was a little black Andalusian stallion awaiting me. The
alforjas, or saddle-bags, of the guide were strengthened by a
stock of cold provisions, the leathern bota hanging beside it
was filled with ripe Granada wine ; and now behold me ambling
over the Vega, accoutred in a gay Andalusian jacket, a sash
woven by Mateo Ximenes, and one of those bandboxy som-
breros, which I at first thought so ungainly, but now consider
quite picturesque and elegant.
My guide, a short but sinewy and well-knit son of the moun-
tains, named Jose Garcia, set off at a canter down the banks
of the Darro. " Don't ride so fast !" cried Napoleon, who
watched our setting out, from the door of the fonda ; but
Jose was already out of hearing. This guide is a companion
to my liking. Although he is only twenty-seven, he has been
for a number of years a correo, or mail-rider, and a guide for
travelling parties. His olive complexion is made still darker
by exposure to the sun and wind, and his coal-black eyes shino
with Southern heat and fire. He has one of those rare mouths
which are born with a broad smile in each corner, and which
seem to laugh even in the midst of grief. We had not been
two hours together, before I knew his history from beginning
to end. He had already been married eight years, and his
only trouble was a debt of twenty-four dollars, which the illness
of his wife had caused him. This moirey was owing to the
THE TRAGEDY OF THE UMBRELLA. 429
pawnbroker, who kept his best clothes in pledge until he could
pay it. " Senor," said he, " it I had ten million dollars, 1
would rather give them all away than have a sick wife." He
had a brother in Puerto Principe, Cuba, who sent over money
enough to pay the rent of the house, but he found that child-
ren were a great expense. " It is most astonishing," he said,
" how much children can eat. From morning till night, the
bread is never out of their mouths."
Jose has recently been travelling with some Spaniards, one
of whom made him pay two dollars for an umbrella which was
lost on the road. This umbrella is a thorn in his side. At
every venta where we stop, the story is repeated, and he is not
sparing of his maledictions. The ghost of that umbrella is
continually raised, and it will be a long time before he can shut
it. " One reason why I like to travel with foreign Seiiors,"
said he to me, " is, that when I lose anything, they never make
me pay for it." " For all. that," I answered, " take care y6u
don't lose my umbrella : it cost three dollars." Since then,
nothing -can exceed Jose's attention to that article. He is at
his wit's end bow to secure it best. It appears sometimes
before, sometimes behind him, lashed to the saddle with innu-
merable cords ; now he sticks it into the alforja, now carries
it in his hand, and I verily believe that he sleeps with it in his
arras. Every evening, as he tells his story to the muleteers,
around the kitchen fire, he always winds up by triumphantly
appealing to me with : "Well, Senor, have I lost yoti/r umbrella
yet ?"
Our bargain is that I shall feed him on the way, and as we
travel in the primitive style of the country, we always sit dowu
together to the same dish. To his supervision, the olla is
:43P THE LANDS OK THE SARACEN.
often indebted for an additional flavor, and no "thorongli-bred''
gentleman could behave at table with more ea se and propriety.
He is as moderate as a Bedouin in his wants, and never touches
the burning aguardiente which the muleteers are accustomed
to drink. I asked him the reason of this. " I drink wine.
Seiior," he replied, " because that, you know, is like meat and
bread ; but I have made a vow never to drink aguardiente
again. Two of us got drunk on it, four or five years ago, in
Granada, and we quarrelled. My comrade drew his knife and
stabbed me here, in tlie left shoulder. I was furious and cut
him across the breast. We both went to the hospital— ^I for
three months and he for six — and he died in a few days after
•getting out. It fcost my poor father many a thousand reals ;
and when I was able to go to work, I vowed before the "Virgin
that I would never touch aguardiente again."
' For the first league, our road lay over the rich Vega of
.Granada, but gradually became wilder and more waste. Pass-
ing the long, desert ridge, known as the " Last Sigh of the
.Moor,'' we struck across a region of low hills. The road was
very deep, from the recent rains, and studded, at short inter-
vals, by rude crosses, erected to persons who had been mur-
;dered. Jos6 took a grim delight in giving me the histbry of
leach. Beyond the village of Lamdla, which lies with its salt-
pans in a basin of the hills, we ascended the mountain ridge
-which forms the southern boundary of the Vega. Granada,
nearly twenty miles distant, was still visible. The Alhambra
was dwindled to a speck, and I took my last view of it and the
magnificent landscape which lies spread but before it. The
Sierra Nevada, rising to the height of 13,000 feet above the
:^a, was perfectly free from clouds, and the whole range was
THE GORGE OF ALHAMA. .43]
visible at one glance. All its chasms were filled with snovt,
and for nearly half-way down its sides there was not a speck
■of any other color. Its summits were almost wholly devoid
of shadow, and their notched and jagged outlines rested
flatly against the sky, like ivory inlaid on a table of lapis-
lazuli.
From these waste hills, we descended into the valley of
Cacia, whose poplar-fringed river had been so swollen by the
rains that the correo from Malaga had only succeeded in pass-
ing it that morning. We forded it without accident, and,
crossing a loftier and bleaker range, came down into the valley
of the Marchan. High on a cliff over the stream stood
Albama, my resting-place for the night. The natur&l warm
.baths, on account of which this spot was so beloved by the
Moors, are still resorted" to in the summer. They lie in the
bosom of a deep and rugged gorge, half a mile further down
the river. The town occupies the crest of a narrow promon-
tory, bounded, on all sides but one, by tremendous precipices.
,It; is one of the most picturesque spots imaginable, and
reminded me — to^ continue the compa,rison between Syria aiid
-Andalusia, which I find so striking— of the gorge of the Bar-
rada, near Damascus. Alhama is now a poor, insignificau}
town, only visited by artists and muleteers. The population
wear long brown cloaks and slouqhed hats, like the natives of
■La Mancha.
I found tolerable quarters in a house on the plaza, and took
the remaining hour of daylight to view the town. The people
looked at me with curiosity, and some boys, walking on the
f dge of the tajo, or precipice, threw over stones that I might
pee how deep it was. The rock, in some places, quite over-
432 THE LANDS OF THE SARAGEV.
huug thfc led of the Marchan, which half-girdles its base. The
close scru iny to which I was subjected by the crowd in the
plaza called to mind all I had heard of Spanish spies and rob-
bers. At the venta, I was well treated, but received such aa
exorbitant bill in the morning that I was ready to exclaim,
with King Boabdil, " Woe is me, Alhama !" On comparing
notes with Jos6, I found that he had been obliged to pay, iu
addition, for what he received — a discovery which so exaspe-
rated that worthy that he folded his hands, bowed his head,
made three kisses in the air, and cried out : "I swear before
the Virgin that I will never again take a traveller to that
inn."
We left Alhama an hour before daybreak, for we had a
rough journey of more than forty miles before us. The bridle-
path was barely visible in the darkness, but we continued
ascending to a height of probably 5,000 feet above the sea,
and thus met the sunrise half-way. Crossing the Uano of Ace
faraya, we reached a tremendous natural portal in the moun
taius, from whence, as from a door, we looked down on all the
country lying between us and the sea. The valley of the
River Velez, winding among the hills, pointed out the course
of our road. On the left towered over us the barren Sierra
Tejeda, an isolated group of peaks, about 8,000 feet in height.
For miles, the road was a rocky ladder, which we scrambled
down on foot, leading our horses. The vegetation gradually
became of a warmer and more luxuriant cast ; the southern
slopes were planted with the vine that produces the famous
Malaga raisins, and the orange groves in the sunny depths of
the valleys were as yellow as autumnal beeches, with their
enormous loads of fruit. As the bells of Velez Malaga were
THE INN AT VfiLEZ MALAGA. 438
ringing noon, we emerged from the mountains, near the month
of the river, and rode into the town to breakfast.
We halted at a queer old inn, more like a Turkish khan
than a Christian hostlery. It was kept by a fat landlady, who
made us an olla of kid and garlic, which, with some coarse
bread and tbe red Malaga wine, soon took off the sharp edge
of our mountain appetites. While I was washing my hands
at a well in the court-yard, the mozo noticed the pilgrim-seal
of Jerusalem, which is stamped indelibly on my left arm. His
admiration and reverence were so great that he called the. fat
landlady, who, on learniug that it had been made in Jerusalem,
aud that I had visited the Holy Sepulchre, summoned her chil-
dren to see it. " Here, my children 1" she said ; " cross your-
selves, kneel down, and kiss this holy seal ; for, as long as you
live, you may never see the hke of it again." Thus I, a Pro-
testant heretic, became a Catholic shrine. The children knelt
and kissed my arm with touching simplicity ; and the seal will
henceforth be more sacred to me than ever.
The remaining twenty miles or more of the road to Malaga
follow the line of the coast, passing headlands crowned by the
atalayas, or watch-towers, of the Moors. It is a new road, and
practicable for carriages, so that, for Spain, it may be con-
sidered an important achievement. The late rains have, how-
ever, already undermined it in a number of places. Here, as
among the mountains, we met crowds of muleteers, all of whom
greeted me with: "Vaya usted con Bios, caballero!" — ("May
you go with God, cavalier I") By this time, all my forgotten
Spanish had come back again, aud a little experience of the
simple ways of the people made me quite at home among them.
In almost every mstance, I was treated precisely as a Spaniard
iSi THE tANDS OP THE SABACEJT
would have been, and less annoyed by the curiosity of the
natives than I have been in Germany, and even America,
We were still two leagues from Malaga, at sunset. The
lishermen along the coast were hauling in their nets, and we
soon began to overtake companies of them, carrying their fish
to the city on donkeys. One stout, strapping fellow, with
desh as hard and yellow as a sturgeon's, was seated sideways
tin a very small donkey, between two immense panniers of fish.
As he trotted before us, shouting, and slapping the flanks of
the .sturdy little beast, Jose and I began to laugh, whereupon
the fellow broke out into the following monologue, addressed
to the donkey : "Who laughs at this burrico'i Who says he's
not fine gold from head to foot ? What is it that he can't do ?
If there was a mountain ever so high, he would gallop over it.
If there was a river ever so deep, he would swim through it
If he could but speak, I might send him to market alone with
the fish, and not a chavo of the money would he spend on the
way home. Who says he can't go as far as that limping
horse ? Arrrre, burrico 1 punate — ar-r-r-r-r-e-e 1"
We reached Malaga, at last, our horses sorely fagged. At
the Fonda de la Alameda, a new and very elegant hotel, I
found a bath and a good dinner, both welcome things to a tired
traveller. The winter of Malaga is like spring in other lands
and on that account it is much visited by invalids, especially
English. It is a lively commercial town of about 80,000
inhabitants, and, if the present scheme of railroad communica-
tion with Madrid is carried out, must continue to increase in
size and importance. A number of manufacturing establishments
have lately been started, and in this depa,rtment it bids fair to
rival Barcelona. The harbor is small, but good, and the
LEAVING MALAGA. 435
eonntry aroniid rich in all the productions of temperate and
even tropical climates. The city contains little to interest the
tourist. I visited the Cathedral, an immense unfinished mass,
without a particle of architectural taste outwardly, though the
interior has a fine effect from its large dimensions.
At noon to-day, we were again in the saddle, and took the
road to the Baths of Caratraca. The tall factory chimneys of
Malaga, vomiting forth streams of black smoke, marred the
serenity of the sky ; but the distant view of the city is very
fine. The broad Yega, watered by the Guadaljoree, is rich and
well cultivated, and now rejoices in the verdure of spring.
Tlio meadows are clothed with fresh grass, butter-cups and
daisies are in blossom, and larks sing in the olive-trees. Now
and then, we passed a casa del campo, with its front half buried
in orange-trees, over which towered two or three sentinel
palms. After two leagues o^ this delightful travel, the coun-
try became more hilly, and the groups of mountains which
inclosed us assumed the n!ost picturesque and enchanting
forms. The soft haze in which the distant peaks were bathed,
the lovely violet shadows filling up their chasms and gorges,
and the fresh meadows, vineyards, and olive groves below,
made the landscape one of the most beautiful I have seen in
Spain
As v'e were trotting along through the palmetto thickets,
Jose asked me if I should not like to hear an Andalusian story.
" Nothing would please me better," I replied. " Ride close
beside me, then," said he, " that you may understand every
word of it." I complied, and he gave me the following, just
as 1 repeat it: !' There was once a very rich man, who had
thoMands of cattle in the Sierra Nevada, and hundredfl of
436 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
honses in the city. Well : this man put a plate, with his name
oil it, on the door of the great house in which he lired, and
the name was this : Don Pedro, without Fear and without
Care. Now, when the King was making his paseo, he hap«
pened to ride by this house in his carriage, and saw the plato
on the door. ' Read me the name on that plate !' said he to
his officer. Then the oificer read the name : Don Pedro, with-
out Fear and without Care. ' I will see whether Don Pedro
is without Fear and without Care,' said the King. The next
day came a messenger to the house, and, when he saw Don
Pedro, said he to him ; ' Don Pedro, without Fear and without
Gare, the King wants you I' ' What does the King want with
me V said Don Pedro. ' He sends you four questions which
you must answer within four days, or he will have you shot ;
and the questions are : — How can the Sierra Nevada be cleared
of snow ? How can the sea be made smaller ? How many
arrobas does the moon weigh ? And : How many leagues
from here to the Land of Heavenly Glory ,?' Then Don Pedro
without Fear and without Care began to sweat from fright,
and knew not what he should do. He called some of his arrie-
ros and loaded twenty mules with money, and went up into the
Sierra Nevada, where his herdsm^j tended his flocks ; for, as
I said, he had many thousand cattle. 'God keep you, my
master !' said the chief herdsman, who was young, and h%mi
mozo, and had as good a head as ever was set on two shoulders.
'Anda, kombre P said Don Pedro, ' I am a dead man ;' and so he
told the herdsman all that the King had said. ' Oh, is that
all?' said the knowing mozo. 'I can get you out of the
scrape. Let me go and answer the questions in your name, my
mivster 1' ' A li, you fool ! what can you do ?' said Don Pedro
DOIT PEDRO WITHOUT TEAR AND WITHOUT CARE. 4»7
'without Fear and without Care, throwing himself upon the
earth, and ready to die.
" But, nevertheless, the herdsman dressed himself up as a
caballero, went down to the city, and, on the fourth day, pre-
Rented himself at the King's palace. ' What do you want V
said the officers. ' I am Don Pedro without Fear and without
Care, come to answer the questions which the King sent to me.'
' Well,' said the King, when he was brought before him, ' let
me hear your answers, or I will have you shot this day.'
' Your Majesty,' said the herdsman, ' I think I can do it. If
you V, ere to set a million of children to playing among the
Buow of the Sierra Nevada, they would soon clear it all away ;
and if you were to dig a ditch as wide and as deep as all
Spain, you would make the sea that much smaller.' ' But,'
said the King, ' that makes only two questions ; there are two
more yet.' ' I think I can answer those, also,' said the herds-
man : ' the moon contains four quarters, and therefore weighs
only one arroba ; and as for the last question, it is not even a
single league to the Land of Heavenly Glory — for, if your
Majesty were to die after breakfast, you would get there before
you had an appetite for dinner.' ' Well done 1' said the King ;
and he then made him Count, and Marquez, and I don't know
how many other titles. In the meantime, Don Pedro without
Pear and without Care had died of his fright ; and, as he left
no family, the herdsman took possession of all his estates, and,
until the day of his death, was called Don Pedi'o without Feai
and without Care."
I write, sitting by the grated window of this lonely inn,
lookius; out on the meadows of the Guadaljorce. The chain
of mountains which rises to the west of Malaga is purpled by
438 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN,
tlie light of the setting sun, and the houses and Castle of Car
taina hang on its side, in full view. Further to the right, I see
the smoke of Mouda, where one of the greatest battles of anti-
quity was fought — that which overthrew the sons of PompeV;
and gave the Roman Empire to Caesar. The mozo of tht
venta is busy, preparing ray kid and rice, and Jos6 is at his
elbow, gently suggesting ingredients which may give the dish
a richer flavor. The landscape is softened by the hush of
coming evening; a few birds are still twittering among the
bushes, and tJic half-moon grows whiter and clearer in mid-
heaven. The people about me are humble, but appear honest
and peaceful, and nothing indicates that I am in the wi'.d Ser-
rania dc Ronda, the country of robbers, contrabandislaa, and
ORANGE VALLEYS. 489
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE MOUNTAINS OF BONDA.
Orange VaUeye — Climbing ttie Mountains— Josh's Hospitality— El Burgo — The (hit« of
the Wind— The Cliff and Cascades of Konda^The Mountain Region— Traces of the
Moors — Haunts of Robbers — ^A Stormy Ride — The Inn at Gaucin — Bad Newg---A
Boyish Auxiliary — Descent from the Mountains— The Ford of the Guadiaro — Oui
Fears Reliered— The Cork Woods— Ride from San Roquc to Gibraltar— Parting with
Job6 — Travelling in Spain — Conclusion.
GiBRALTAS, Tlmradwj/, Nmember 25, 1852.
I PASSED an uncomfortable night at the Venta de Villalon,
lying upon a bag stuffed with equal quantities of wool and
fleas. Starting before dawn, we followed a path which led
into the mountains, where herdsmen and boys were taking out
their sheep and goats to pasture ; then it descended into the
valley of a stream, bordered with rich bottom-lands. I never
saw the orange in a more flourishing state. We passed several
orchards of trees thirty feet high, and every bough and twig
so completely laden with fruit, that the foliage was hardly to
be seen.
At the Venta del Vicario, we found a number of soldiers
just setting out for Ronda. They appeared to be escorting a
convoy of goods, for there were twenty or thirty laden mulea
gathered at the door. We now ascended a most difficult and
Btony path, winding through bleak wastes of gray rock, till we
440 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEIT
reached a lofty pass in the mountain range. The wind swepl
through the narrow gateway with a force that almost unhorsed
ns. From the other side, a sublime bat most desolate land-
scape opened to my view. Opposite, at ten miles' distance,
rose a lofty ridge of naked rock, overhung with clouds. The
country between was a chaotic jumble of stony hills, separated
by deep chasms, with just a green patch here and there, to
show that it was not entirely forsaken by man. Nevertheless,
as we descended into it, we found valleys with vineyards and
olive groves, which were invisible from above. As we were both
getting hungry, Jose stopped at a ventorillo and ordered two
cups of wine, for which he insisted on paying. " If I had as
many horses as my master. Napoleon," said he, "I would
regale the Senors whenever I travelled with them. I would
have puros, and sweetmeats, with plenty of Malaga or Valde
penas in the bota, and they should ' never complain of their
fare." Part of our road was studded with gray cork-trees, at
a distance hardly to be distinguished from olives, and Jose dis-
mounted to gather the mast, which was as sweet and palatable
as chestnuts, with very little of the bitter quercine flavor. At
eleven o'clock, we reached El Burgo, so called, probably, from
its ancient Moorish fortress. It is a poor, starved village,
built on a barren hill, over a stream which is still spanned
by a lofty Moorish bridge of a single arch.
The remaining three leagues to Ronda were exceedingly
rough and difficult. Climbing a barren ascent of nearly a
league in length, we reached the Puerto del Vknto, or Gate of
tlie Wind, through which drove such a current that we were
obliged to dismount ; and even then it required all my strenath
to Dcove against it. The peaks around, far and near, faced
THE CHASM OF RONDA. 441
with precipitous cliffs, wore the most savage and foibiddiim
aspect : in fact, this region is almost a couuterpart of the
wilderness lying between Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. Very
Boon, we touched the skirt of a cloud, and were enveloped ir
masses of chill, whirling vapor, through which we travelled foi
three or four miles to a similar gate on the western side of tha
chain. Descending again, we emerged into a clearer atmo-
sphere, and saw below us a wide extent of mountain country,
but of a more fertile and cheerful character. Olive orchards
and wheat-fields now appeared ; and, at four o'clock, we rode
into the streets of Ronda.
No town can surpass this in the grandeur and picturesque-
ncss of its position It is built on the edge of a broad shelf
of the mountains, which falls away in a sheer precipice of from
six to eight hundred feet in height, and, from the windows of
many of the houses you can' look down the dizzy abyss. This
shelf, again, is divided in the centre by a tremendous chasm,
three hundred feet wide, and from four to six hundred feet in
depth, in the bed of which roars the Guadalvin, boiling in foam-
ing whirlpools or leaping in sparkling cascades, till it reaches the
valley below. The town lies on both sides of the chasm, which
is spanned by a stone bridge of a single arch, with abutments
nearly four hundred feet in height. The view of this wonder-
ful cleft, either from above or below, is one of the finest of its
kind in the world. Ronda is as far superior to Tivoli, as Tivol.
is to a Dutch village, on the dead levels of Holland. The
panorama which it commands is on the grandest scale. The
valley below is a garden of fruit and vines ; bold yet »;ultivated
hills succeed, and in the distance rise the lofty summits of
another chain of the Serrania de Ronda, Were these subline
19*
442 THE LANDS OF THE SARACEN.
i'\iSs, these charming cascades of the Giiadalvin, and this dariug
bi'idge, in Italy instead of in Spain, they would be sketched
ftud painted every day in the year ; but I have yet to know
where a good picture of Ronda may be found
In tiie bottom of the chasm are a number of corn-mills as
old as the time of the Moors. The water, gushing out from
the arches of one, drives the wheel of that below, so tliat a
single race supplies them all. I descended by a very steep zig
zag path nearly to the bottom. On a little point or promon-
tory overhanging the black depths, there is a Moorish gateway
still standing. The sunset threw a lovely glow over the brown
cliffs and the airy town above ; but they were far grander when
tiie cascades glittered in the moonlight, and the gulf oui of
which they leap was lost in profound shadow. The window
of my bed-room hung over the chasm.
Ronda was wrapped in fog, when Jose awoke me on the
morning of the 22d. As we had but about twenty-four miles to
ride that day, we did not leave until sunrise. We rode across
the bridge, tiirough the old town and down the hill, passing
the triple lines of the Moorish walls by the original gateways.
The road, stony and rugged beyond measure, now took to tlie
mountains. Froui the opposite height, there was a fine view
of the town, perched like an eagle's nest on the verge of its
tremendous cliffs ; but a curtain of rain soon fell before it, and
the dense dark clouds settled around us, and filled up the
gorges on citlicr hand. Hour after hour, we toiled along the
BJippery jjaths, scaling the high ridges by rocky ladders, up
which our iiorses climbed with the greatest difficulty. The
scenery, whenever I could obtain a misty glimpse of it, was
sublime. Lolty momitKin ridges rose on either hand ; blual!;
TRAVEU.lN'i IX A STORM. iii
jafjged summits of naked rock pierced the ck)uds, and the deep
chasms which separated them sank far below us, dark and
indistinct through the rain. Sometimes I caught sight of a
tittle hamlet, hanging on some almost inaccessible ledge, the
home of the lawless, semi-Moorish mountaineers who inhabit
this wild region. The faces of those we met exhibited marked
traces of their Moslem ancestry, especially in the almond-
shaped eye and the dusky olive complexion. Their dialect
retains many Oriental forms Of expression, and 1 was not a
little surprised at finding the Arabic "eiwa" (yes) in genera!
use, instead of the Spanish "si."
About eleven o'clock, we reached the rude village of Ata-
jate, where we procured a very good breakfast of kid, eggs,
and white Ronda whie. The wind and rain increased, but I
had no time to lose, as every hour swelled the mountain floods
and made the journey more diiBcult. This district is in the
worst repute of any in Spain ; it is a very nest of robbers and
contrabandistas. At the vcnta in Atajate, they urged us to
take a guard, but my valiant Jose declared that he had never
taken one, and yet was never robbed ; so I trusted to his good
'uck. The weather, however, was our best protection. In
Buch a driving rain, we could bid defiance to the flint locks of
their escopettes, if, indeed, any could be found, so fond of theii
trade, as to ply it in a storm
"Wherein the cuL-drawn bear would crouch.
The lion and ftie liclly-pinched wolf
Keep their furs dry."
Nevertheless, I noticed that each of the few convoys of iader
mules which we iliet, had- one or more of the gr;ardic. civil
441 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACEN.
accompanying it. Besides these, the only persons abioad were
eome wild-looking individuals, armed to the teeth, and mufSed
in long cloaks, towards whom, as they passed, Jose would gire
his head a slight toss, and whisper to me : " more contraban-
distas."
. We were soon in a condition to defy the weather. The rain
beat furiously in our faces, especially when threading the
wind-blown passes between the higher peaks. I raised my
umbrella as a defence, but the first blast snapped it in twain.
The mouQtain-sides were veined with rills, roaring downward
into the hollows, and smaller rills soon began to trickle down
my own sides. During the last part of our way, the path was
notched along precipitous steeps, where the storm was so thick
that we could see nothing either above or below. It was like
riding along the outer edge of the world. When once you are
thoroughly wet, it is a great satisfaction to know that you can
be no wetter ; and so Jose and I went forward in the best
possible humor, finding so much diversion in our plight that
the dreary leagues were considerably shortened.
At the venta of Gaucin, where we stopped, the people
received us kindly. The house consisted of one room — stable,
kitchen, and dining-room all in one. Tliere was a small apart-
ment in a windy loft, where a bed (mncli too short) was pre-
pared for me. A fire of dry heather was made in the wide
fire-placCj and the ruddy flames, with a change of clothing and
a draught of the amber vintage of Estepona, soon thawed out
the chill of the journey. But I received news which caused
me a great deal of anxiety. The River Guadiaro was so high
that nobody could cross, and two forlorn muleteers had been
waiting eight days at the inn, for the waters to subside. Aug
A BOYISH AUXILIARY. 4-li
mented by tbe rain which had fallen, and which seemed tc
increase as night came on, how could I hope to cross it on tbe
inorrow ? In two days, the India steamer would be at Gibral-
tar ; my passage was already taken, and I must be there. The
matter was discussed for some time ; it was pronounced impo»
Bible to travel by the usual road, but the landlord knew a path
among the hills which led to a ferry on the Guadiaro, wliert
there was a boat, and from thence we could make our way to
San Roque, which is in sight of Gibraltar. He demanded
rather a large fee for accompanying me, but there was nothing
else to be done. Jose and I sat down in great tribulation to
our accustomed oUa, but neither of us could do justice to it,
and the greater part gladdened the landlord's two boys — beau-
tiful little imps, with faces like Murillo's cherubs.
Nevertheless, I passed rather a merry evening, chatting with
Bome of the villagers over a brazier of coals ; and one of tbe
aforesaid boys, who, although only eight years old, already
performed the duties of mozo, lighted me to my loft. When
he had put down the lamp, he tried the door, and asked me :
"Have you the key?" "No," said I, "I don't want one ; i
am not afraid." ''But," he rejoined, "perhaps you may get
afraid in the night ; and if you do, strike on this part of the
wall (snitiog the action to the word) — / sleep on that side."
I willingly promised to call him to my aid, if I should get
alarmed. I slept but little, for the wind was howling around
the tiles over my head, and I was busy with plans for con-
structing rafts and swimming currents with a rope around my
waist. Finally, I found a little oblivion, but it seemed that 1
had scarcely closed'my eyes, when Jos6 pushed open the door.
"Thanks be to God, senor !" said he, "it begins to dawn
440 THE LANDS OF THE SARAOE.V.
aad the sky is clear : we shall certainly get to Gibraltat
♦.0-day."
The landlord was ready, so we took some bread and a bas-
ket of olives, and set out at once. Leaving Gaucin, we com-
menced descending the mountain staircase by which the
Serrania of Ronda is scaled, on the side towards Gibraltar.
" The road," says Mr. Ford. " seems made by the Evil One in
a hanging garden of Eden." After four miles of frightfully
rugged descent, we reached an orange grove on the banks of
the Xenar, and then took a wild path leading along the hills
on the right of the stream. We overtook a few muleteers,
who were tempted out by the fine weather, and before long the
correo, or mail-rider from Ronda to San Roque, joined us.
After eight miles more of toilsome travel we reached the val-
ley of the Guadiaro. The river was not more than twenty
yards wide, flowing with a deep, strong current, between high
banks. Two ropes were stretched across, and a large, clumsy
boat was moored to the shore. We called to the ferrymen,
but they hesitated, saying that nobody had yet been able to
cross. However, we all got in, with our horses, and two of
the men, with much reluctance, drew us over. The current
was very powerful, although the river had fiillen a little
during the night, but we reached the opposite bank without
accident.
We had still another river, the Guargante, to pass, but
we were cheered by some peasants whom we met, with the
news that the feri'y-boat had resumed operations. After this
current lay behind us, and there was now nothing but firm
laud all the way to Gibraltar, Jose declared with much
eoruestness that he was quite as glad, for my sake, as if som&
THE COEK-WOODS. 44^
body isid given him a million of dollars. Our horses, too.
seemed to feel that something had been achieved, and showed
such a fresh spirit that we loosened the reins and let them gal-
lop to their hearts' content over the green meadows. The
mountains were now behind us, and the Moorish castle of
Gaucin crested a peak blue with the distance. Over hills
covered with broom and heather in blossom, and through hol-
lows grown with oleander, arbutus and the mastic shrub, we
rode to the cork-wood forests of San Roque, the sporting-
ground of Gibraltar ofiBcers. The barking of dogs, the crack
ing of whips, and now and then a distant halloo, announced
that a hunt was in progress, and soon we came upon a company
of thirty or forty horsemen, in caps, white gloves and top-boots,
scattered along the crest of a hill. I had no desire to stop
and witness the sport, for the" Mediterranean now lay before
me, and the huge gray mass of "The E.ock 1 loomed in the
distance.
At San Roque, which occupies the summit of a conical hill,
about half-way between Gibraltar and Algeciras, the landlord
left us, and immediately started on his return. Having now
exchanged the rugged bridle-paths of Ronda for a smooth
carriage-road, Jose and i dashed on at full gallop, to the end
of our journey. We were both bespattered with mud
from head to foot, and our jackets and sombreros had lost
something of their spruce air. We met a great many ruddy,
cleanly-shaven Englishmen, who reined up on one side to let us
pass, with a look of wonder at our Andalusian impudence.
Nothing diverted Jose more than to see one of these English-
men rising in his stirrups, as he went by on a trot. " Look,
look, Senor 1" he exclaimed ; " did you ever see the like 2"
443 THE LANDS OF THE SAKACGN.
and iLeu brok(3 into a fresh explosion of laughter. Passing
the Spanish Lines, which stretch across the neck of the sandy
little peninsula, connecting Gibraltar with the main land, we
rode under the terrible batteries which snarl at Spain from
this side of the Rock. Row after row of enormous gun?
bristle the walls, or look out from the galleries hewn in the sides
of inaccessible cliffs An artificial moat is cut along the base of
the Rock, and a rfmple bridge-road leads into the fortress and
town. After giving up my {)assport I was allowed to enter,
Jose having already obtained a permit from the Spanish authori-
ties.
I clattered up the long street of the town to the Cliib
House, where I found a company of English friends. In thb
evening, Jose made his appearance, to settle our accounts and
take his leave of me. While scrambling down the rocky stair-
way of Gaucin, Jose had said to me : " Look you, Senor, I
am very foud of English beer, and if I get you to Gibraltar
to day you must give me a glass of it." When, therefore, he
came in the evening, his eyes sparkled at the sight of a bottle
of Alsop's Ale, and a handful of good Gibraltar cigars.
"Ah, Senor," said he, after our books were squared, and he
had pocketed his gratificacidn, " I am sorry we are going to
part ; for we are good friends, are we not, Senor ?" " Yes,
Jose," said I ; " if I ever come to Granada again, I shall take
no other guide than Jose Garcia ; and I will have you for a
longer journey than this. We shall go over all Spain together,
mi amigo .'" "May God grant it!" responded Jose, crossing
himself; " and now, Senor, I must go. I shall travel back to
Granada, mny triste, SeEor, muy triste." The faithful fellows
eyes were full of tears, and, as he lifted my hand twice to hia
TRAVELLING IN SPAIN. 449
lips, some wann drops fell upon it. God bless his honest heart;
wherever he goes !
And now a word as to travelling in Spain, which is not
ftltended with half the difiiculties and annoyances I had been
led to expect. My experience, of course, is lunited to the
provinces of Andalusia, but my route included some of the
roughest roads and most dangerous robber- districts in the
Peninsula. The people with whom I came in contact were
invariably friendly and obliging, and I was dealt with much
more honestly than I should have been in Italy. With every
disposition to serve you, there is nothing like servility among
the Spaniards. The native dignity which characterizes their
demeanor prepossesses me very strongly in their favor. There
is but one dialect of courtesy, and the muleteers and common
peasants address each other with the same grave respect as the
Dons and Grandees. My friend Jos6 was a model of good-
breeding.
I had little trouble either with passport-ofBcers or custom-
houses. My passport, in fact, was never once demanded,
although I took the precaution to have it vised in all the large
cities. In Seville and Malaga, it was signed by the American
Consuls, without the usual fee ot two dollars — almost the only-
instances which have come under my observation. The regula-
tions of the American Consular System, which gives the Con-
suls no salary, but permits them, instead, to get their pay out
of travellers, is a disgrace to our government. It amounts, iu
effect, to a direct lax on travel, and falls heavily on the hun-
dreds of young men of limited means, who tnnually visit
Europe for the purpose of completing their education. Every
American citizen who travels in Italy pays a passport tax of
450 THE LANDS OF THE SARAOEN.
ten dollars. In all the ports of the Mediterranean, there is an
American Vice-Consul, who does not even get the postage paid
on his dispatches, and to whom the advent of a traveller is of
course a welcome sight. Misled by a false notion of economy, onr
government is fast becoming proverbial for its meanness. If
those of our own citizens who represent us abroad only worked
as they are paid, and if the foreigners who act as Vice-Consula
without pay did not derive some petty trading advantages
•rom their position, we should be almost without protection.
With my departure from Spain closes the record of my
journey in the Lands of the Saracen ; for, although I after^
wards beheld more perfect types of Saracenic Art on the banks
of the Jumna and the Ganges, they grew up under the great
Empire of the descendants of Tamerlane, and were the crea-
tions of artists foreign to the soil. It would, no doubt, be
interesting to contrast the remains of Oriental civilization and
refinement, as they still exist at the extreme eastern and
western limits of the Moslem sway, and to show iiow that Art,
which had its birth in the capitals of the Caliphs — Damascus
and Baghdad — attained its most perfect development in Spain
and India ; but my visit to the latter country connects itself
naturally with my voyage to China, Loo-Choo, and Japan,
forraiug a separate and distinct field of travel.
On the 27th of November, the Overland Mail Stearnef
arrived at Gibraltar, and I embarked in her for Alexandria,
entering upon another year of even more varied, strange, and
adventurous experiences, than that which had closed, I am
CONCLUSION. 451
almost afraid to ask those patient readers, who have accompar
nicd me thas far, to travel with me through another volume j
but next to the pleasure of seeing the world, comes the plear
3ure of telling of it, and I must ueeds finish mj story.