CHAPTER V.
Reflections on the ruins of Palmyra—Wood and Dawkins’s plates—Fountain of Ephca—Castle—Tombs—Cottage selected for Lady Hester—Visit to a curious cave—Justinian’s wall—Climate and diseases—Salt marshes—Causes of fevers—Air and climate of Palmyra—Gardens, corn-fields, and trees—Sulphureous waters—Dress of the men; and of the women—Departure from Palmyra—Lady Hester sends Giorgio to look for the Author—Fall of snow—The party lose themselves, and sleep in the snow—Encampment of Beni Omar Bedouins—Hassan’s unfeeling conduct—Pride of the Bedouins to ride on horseback—Encampment of Ali Bussal—False notions of the hospitality of Bedouins—Partridges of the Desert—Emir of the Melhem—M. Lascaris’s scheme of traffic—Arrival of Madame Lascaris—Attack of the Sebáh—Wounded Bedouin—Giorgio goes to Palmyra—The Author returns to Hamah—Ruins of a triumphal arch—Snow-storm—A night in a cavern—Ruined village—Selamyah—Ruined mosque—Hardships endured by Bedouins—Miscellaneous observations on their character and manners.
Reflections on the ruins of Palmyra—Wood and Dawkins’s plates—Fountain of Ephca—Castle—Tombs—Cottage selected for Lady Hester—Visit to a curious cave—Justinian’s wall—Climate and diseases—Salt marshes—Causes of fevers—Air and climate of Palmyra—Gardens, corn-fields, and trees—Sulphureous waters—Dress of the men; and of the women—Departure from Palmyra—Lady Hester sends Giorgio to look for the Author—Fall of snow—The party lose themselves, and sleep in the snow—Encampment of Beni Omar Bedouins—Hassan’s unfeeling conduct—Pride of the Bedouins to ride on horseback—Encampment of Ali Bussal—False notions of the hospitality of Bedouins—Partridges of the Desert—Emir of the Melhem—M. Lascaris’s scheme of traffic—Arrival of Madame Lascaris—Attack of the Sebáh—Wounded Bedouin—Giorgio goes to Palmyra—The Author returns to Hamah—Ruins of a triumphal arch—Snow-storm—A night in a cavern—Ruined village—Selamyah—Ruined mosque—Hardships endured by Bedouins—Miscellaneous observations on their character and manners.
I rose with the sun, and, eager to correct the unfavourable impression which the view of the ruins had made in the dusk of the evening, I begged of Hassanto reconduct me to them. I sat down, still, as before, deceived in my expectations. As far as my memory served me, I found the engravings of Wood and Dawkins faithful; and I began to consider how it happened that, correct as to delineation, they conveyed an idea of the remains of Palmyra so much more favourable than the reality. It has already been stated that the ground on which they stand is disadvantageous. Edifices require elevation to set them off; and perhaps it may have struck some travellers, that, of all the vestiges of antiquity to be seen throughout modern Turkey, the Parthenon at Athens, and the Temple of Theseus at Sunium, have the most imposing appearance, owing to their position, each on the summit of a hill. It is not so with Palmyra. Situate, on the contrary, at the foot of lofty mountains, whose height renders all the works of art diminutive, its columns, if seen at the distance of a few hundred yards, dwindle to the size of tapers. Indistinct from the neighbouring mountains, they are still more so from the colour of the stone of which they are made: for it is of a yellow ochrish appearance, and the face of the surrounding soil is precisely of the same hue. Tints must be opposed to set each other off; so that, for want of this contrast, these celebrated ruins, so conspicuous on paper, are scarcely visible where they stand. And although the two artists had a right to give them as high relief as they could, yet have they been guilty of that species ofdeception which exhibits objects under a false colouring, by representing them with an appearance of freshness to which they have long since lost their claim. Yet, when we reflect on the vastness of the materials which have been collected, as it were, in the midst of a desert, we are lost in astonishment. There are pillars of granite of a single block, which (say those who have made researches on these subjects their study) must have been transported from Upper Egypt. All the buildings were composed of stones of an enormous size; and there are ceilings yet remaining of a single slab. Fragments of pillars and their entablatures strew the ground, and are so numerous that we might imagine all the inhabitants to have lived in palaces. The building, called by travellers the Temple of the Sun, alone contains within its walls more than space enough for the present Palmyrenes.
Passing through the triumphal arch, which terminates the long colonnade under which I had seated myself, I slowly walked down it, and, inclining to the left, came, at the distance of about a mile, to the sulphureous spring, called the fountain of Ephca. There were formerly five springs at Palmyra; at present this alone remains of them all. A magnificent edifice might once have adorned its entrance; and the remains of an altar, as also the broken shaft of a pillar which lies close to it, lead to that supposition. But at this day the stream, which is abouttwo feet and a half deep, issues from the mouth of a rough arched grotto, from five to six feet broad and four feet high;—a man must stoop to enter it. The banks of the channel near the grotto are above ten feet high, seeming to be elevated by the accumulation of rubbish; for, after the stream has run about thirty yards, they sink to a level with its water.
Although it was the month of January, I stripped off my clothes, and entered the grotto. It widens from the mouth, and, about five yards in, is lofty enough for a tall man to stand upright. The smell of sulphur is faint; the taste of it not perceptible. The heat of the water might be about 80° of Fahrenheit, communicating the least possible impression of cold on immersing the body into it. Advancing, the water deepens to more than the height of six feet, and the roof of the vault lowers; but there is no increase of heat. My conductor was forward in recounting all the properties of the water; the chief one was that of imparting an extraordinary appetite to those who drink of it; but there were in his enumeration none medicinal, if this be not of that class. I brought away with me two fragments of the roof; but, learning that they made the whole conversation of the village, and that it was believed I had the power of converting them into gold, I threw them away; for the extraordinary price which some rich travellers have incautiously paid for fragments of ancient sculpture, intaglios, and the like, has givenrise to the supposition among the Arabs that Franks never would purchase so dearly mere stones, unless for the purpose of transmuting them into more valuable materials.
On the 16th, I visited the Saracen fortress to the west of the ruins. When it was known where I was gone, I was followed by about thirty or forty women and children, who pointed out the best path to me, and climbed up the pointed rocks with an activity that made me tremble for their safety. The castle is moated, and the bridge which formed the communication of the opposite sides being broken down, it required much pains to clamber up to one of the windows, the only entrance now practicable.—The chief advantage of toiling up the mountain on which it stands is to enjoy the fine view of the surrounding country. To the east are seen the ruins; beyond them the salt marshes; and beyond these a plain, bounded by the horizon, and to which fancy lent an immeasurable extent: to the north, on the same chain on which the castle stands, is Mount Ebn Ali—so called from a small chapel erected on its summit in memory of some Mahometan santon of that name: to the west is the valley of Abu El Fewáres, and to the south, the end of Mount Ayûn, a chain which runs almost to Damascus. Descending from the castle, I entered some of the tombs, which are described so accurately by Wood and Dawkins. I brought away from them some few pieces of embalming silk, whichshowed clearly to what a degree of perfection the manufacture of that article had reached in ancient times.
The process of embalming has something congenial to filial piety, and abates the horror which a worm-eaten corpse inspires. Those embalmed, after preservation for centuries, are sometimes found to have become a mass of odoriferous gum, and can be handled without disgust.
On the 17th, it rained the whole day. Confined within the walls of the Temple of the Sun, this opportunity was taken for examining such of the cottages as might be best adapted for the residence of Lady Hester. There were three that stood in the north-west angle of the temple, and these were chosen as the most commodious. The seven pillars are those delineated in one of the plates of Wood and Dawkins, as occupying the angle where we still found them.
The people of the village had talked a great deal to me about a cavern three leagues from the ruins, which contained, they said, several curious natural productions: accordingly, on the 18th, I joined a party who were going thither to bring away alum, sulphur, and vitriol. The company was composed of thirty-nine persons, the greater part armed with muskets and matchlocks, to defend themselves from the Bedouin Arabs, should they meet any. They were mounted on asses, and carried empty sacks. The shaykh accompaniedus, purely out of civility, as he said to me (who had been strongly recommended to his care by Mahannah), but, in reality, to secure his share of the profits. The cave had been represented to me as extremely curious; the road to it is due north from the ruins, parallel with the chain of mountains which runs north and south from the castle until it unites at right angles with the White Mountain, at the foot of which the cave in question is situate. On the highest part of the ridge of this chain, there is a Mahometan shrine, already alluded to, called Ebn Ali. Upon these mountains are found hyenas and stags, whose antlers, of which Lady Hester some months afterwards obtained a pair, show them to be of a prodigious size. Under the santon’s tomb is, as I was told, another cavern worthy the examination of the traveller. Nearly abreast of it, and about a mile distant in the plain, is themkatáa, or quarry, where the Palmyrenes obtained their stone for building. The rock is quarried with great regularity: several masses lie hewn as if ready for removal; and such is their size that they would exceed the power of common machines of the present day:—they were of a pink-tinted carbonate of lime.
Arrived at the cave, every one pulled off all his clothes, excepting his shirt and drawers. The mouth of it was perhaps thirty feet in breadth, and ten or twelve in height: it continued of these dimensions for a short distance, when two shafts went off inopposite directions: one of these we entered by a hole, through which we crept on our stomachs; for it appeared at this point to be choked up by rubbish from the falling in of the rock. We had with us rudely-made torches and bees-wax candles, brought for the purpose. The main shaft had been worked nearly strait, and was rudely arched; the depth of it might be from thirty to fifty yards. From it issued occasionally lateral excavations, but apparently of subsequent date to the principal one, and in some places the matrix of the rock was strongly sulphureous, for it took fire on holding the candle awhile to it. Beautiful efflorescent crystals of plumose alum, resembling tufts of snow-white silk, hung from the roof in certain places, or jutted from the sides, but were too perishable to bring away. In parts a yellow clay, wet and plastic, was found. Portions of both the sulphur and the alum were collected by the Arabs, who sell them in the manufacturing towns for the use of dyers. In some places, the walls of the cave were nearly pure argil. Thus the production of alum is constantly taking place in the cave from the presence of the principles necessary to its formation; viz. sulphur and alumine. I likewise found some pieces of selenite. The heat was so suffocating that I could not remain in long. We next visited the shaft running in an opposite direction to the first two: it was less deep and more irregular. In this the roofcaught fire, wherever a taper was applied; an experiment I did not choose to see repeated a third time, for fear of suffocation from sulphureous fumes. The cave is of high antiquity, according to the tradition of the inhabitants, and probably coeval with Palmyra. It is well worth examination, and will repay the curiosity of the general traveller. The asses being all loaded, we returned in the same order in which we came.
The 19th and 20th were spent in walking over the ruins. In the plan of Palmyra, so accurately taken by Wood, as far as it goes, the remains of the wall of Justinian, to the east and south-east, are not inserted. They are, however, very distinctly visible, running north and south, distant a little more than a quarter of a mile from the Temple of the Sun. This seems to be the quarter of the private residences, as there are few fragments of columns hereabouts.
Having now gratified my curiosity, though not satisfied it, circumstances obliged me to think of departing. The ample accounts we possess of the ruins of Palmyra render it unnecessary to say anything on that head. The few observations I had time to make on its climate and present productions, on the manners and dress of the inhabitants, as well as on their diseases, may be comprehended in a very brief space, and they can apply only to that season of the year in which I made them.
Palmyra stands in latitude 30° 20′ north. To the west and north it is sheltered by mountains. Towards the other two cardinal points it looks over plains bounded by the horizon. The salt marshes lie to the east, about one league off, and their extent varies according to the winter rains. The mountains and plain are bare of trees. To the south of the Temple there were a few orchards; and a few acres of land were sown with maize and corn. These are irrigated by the waters of the sulphureous spring.
As far as my observation went, those places in the Levant are healthy which are not surrounded with gardens and orchards, whilst such as are encompassed by them demonstrate in the looks of the inhabitants the diseases to which they give rise. Thus, at Damascus, at Tripoli, at Hamah, and such towns as are celebrated for their gardens, the season is marked by the prevalence of intermittent and remittent fevers, which are always obstinate, and sometimes, from bad treatment and other circumstances, assume a malignant character. For, as the manner of irrigating grounds consists in laying them under water by trenches dug in a variety of directions, an artificial marsh is thus created, the evaporation of which, in the great heats of autumn, gives rise to noxious effluvia and to evening damps which check perspiration. On the contrary, such places as are built on mountains or at the foot of them, or in bare plains, enjoy a fine air; and this because the close ofthe day brings with it no sudden change of temperature, and no unwholesome vapours.[34]
Of this latter class is Palmyra: hence it is renowned among the Arabs for its fine climate. During a residence of six days, from the 14th to the 20th of January, in the very depth of winter, I found that it was agreeable to undress and bathe in the open air, and that a few showers, always succeeded by sunshine, and once a slight fall of snow, constituted the utmost severity of the season, in the severest winter that had been known for half a century; whilst, on the same days, the snow at Hamah, in the same parallel of latitude, was six inches deep, and covered the ground for some time: nay, the inhabitants of Tadmûr went so far as to say that the very appearance of snow was a miracle among them. It is mentioned by Wood that, in the month of March, the heats were very great: it is therefore likely that inautumn they are scarcely less intense than those of Egypt.
The few orchards and corn-fields which the inhabitants had, and which were no more than scraps of ground scooped out among the ruins, served to show that, with little care, all the plants of Syria might be reared on this spot. Wood mentions having seen fig-trees there; at this time there were perhaps a hundred. Palm-trees are numerous, and ripen their fruit, which they will not do at Damascus; I ate of their dates. To olive-trees the climate seems peculiarly congenial, as they have a richness of foliage not observable elsewhere. Pomegranates, sweet melons, water melons, almond trees, with apples and apricots and some other fruits, were also to be found.
From these observations it will be concluded that the inhabitants of Tadmûr are subject to few or no diseases; and this would be the case, generally speaking, were it not that great filth and great poverty sometimes engender them. From the latter cause arises the habit of sleeping on the bare ground, and hence rheumatism is very common. From the former it happens that ophthalmia, once established, is almost sure to terminate in blindness; for a constant irritation is kept up (as has been mentioned elsewhere) from the dust of the streets, as also by the application of dirty cotton rags and handkerchiefs.
A trial was made by me of the effects of the sulphureous water on the human body from a constant useof no other beverage; but it produced no sensible change. That my appetite was unusually good, as it is in general with all travellers at Palmyra, arose without doubt from the air of an open country; and the same was the case under the tents of the Bedouins. Whether the vicinity of the salt marshes has any share in producing this effect, requires a longer experience than that of six days to determine. Certain it is that they do not seem to communicate any bad properties to the air, although so extensive an evaporation is going on from them.
The inhabitants of Tadmûr are to be considered as natives rather of the Desert than of the towns. They are the offspring of Bedouins; their dress is the same; but I thought the Palmyrenes were of a stouter make. With both, open violence or craft are considered as legitimate means for effecting their purposes. The men and women occasionally bathe in the warm spring. The women are celebrated for their comeliness; and it is not unusual for the chiefs of the Bedouin tribes to give a very rich dowry of camels and sheep for a Palmyrene maiden. It was remarkable that the women, in the month of January, wore only a shift, covered in a few instances with the woollen cloak, or abah: it is likely therefore that in summer they almost dispense with this slight covering. Their shifts are of coarse cotton, coquelicot-coloured, like Indian-silk handkerchiefs with white spots. They are fond of beads, and pride themselves on an enormousgold or silver ring (representing a coiled serpent) which is passed through the cartilage of the right nostril, and which, from its exposed situation, is often torn out. Some of these rings are three inches in diameter. They wear rings also on all the five fingers; likewise glass and silver bracelets and jamblets.[35]The lips, the cheeks, the fore-arms, the hands, and sometimes the feet, perhaps too the chest, and even the abdomen, are tatooed.
They feed very grossly, but less so than the Bedouins: husked wheat, raisins, dibs, eggs, and sometimes rice, are their common dishes. They set pounded wheat to stew in a small-mouthed pipkin, or in a covered jar, all night, and then eat of it: this they call bûrma. They makekubbyby pounding together husked wheat and minced mutton, or goats’ flesh, in a mortar: this they mould into hollow spheres, and boil or fry.[36]Whilst I was at Palmyra, Mfáthy, one of Mahannah’s shaykhs, came after me, furnished with a letter from Mahannah, in which I was enjoined to cure Mfáthy of a chronic complaint as speedily as possible. The letter was a curiosity, since few persons, I believe, have seen the handwriting of a Bedouin chieftain: and his style was not very courtly.
Having made such examination as I thought necessary at Palmyra, Hassan and I, accompanied by four Bedouins of the tribe of the Beni Omar, who were going to the same point of the compass as ourselves, left Palmyra on the 21st of January. The sky was cloudy, and it was unusually cold. We watered our horses at the spring of Ephca, and, taking a north-west direction, crossed the vale where is seen the reservoir of Abu el Fawáres. About noon we reached the small chain of mountains which bounds the valley, and entered upon the Mezah, that extensive plain which has been already mentioned in the road to Palmyra. Crossing the north-east angle of it, we arrived in one hour at the foot of Gebel-el-Abiad.
Here it is necessary to carry the reader back a little, that we may see what Lady Hester had been doing during my absence from Hamah. I had promised her to write whenever an occasion presented itself; but the season of the year had prevented any one from going to Hamah, and I had had no opportunity. She therefore began to grow uneasy about me, and resolved todespatch Giorgio, in order to ascertain what had become of me. An Arab or two of Mahannah’s tribe, then at Hamah, were hired to conduct him, and it was given out that the object of his journey was to carry me some medicines, which I stood in need of for Mahannah’s cure. His guides accordingly brought him safely to the tents of that chieftain, who informed him whither I was gone. Giorgio’s instructions being to find me out, and to go on to Palmyra, he was furnished by Mahannah with another guide, a black, named Selûm, who rode before him on the same camel, with a horseman by his side.
I had scarcely begun to ascend the mountain with my party, when Hassan and his companions descried, at some distance, descending in the direction we were going, what appeared to be two or three horsemen. In a quarter of an hour we were come so near to each other that I could distinguish two men mounted on a camel, who presently stopped the camel and got off, whilst the beast remained kneeling. With them was a horseman, who kept his seat. We were more numerous than they, yet Hassan and the Beni Omar Arabs advanced very cautiously. When within hailing distance, the Bedouin with the camel called out to us, and at the same time posted himself behind the camel, with his matchlock lighted, and taking aim at us. Hassan knew his voice, and halloed to him by name:—it was Selûm, the black; and immediately both parties recognized each other. But what was my surprise tofind Lady Hester’s servant, Giorgio, there, dressed in the Bedouin costume, and as much metamorphosed as myself.
He explained to me, in a very few words, the object of his journey, and showed me the box, containing medicines and other articles for me, which was fastened on the camel’s back. But, when I told him he must return with me, Selûm, his guide, and the horseman with him, said that they were bearers of a letter from Emir Mahannah to Tadmûr, and that they could not turn back until they had delivered it. What was to be done? there was no time left for deliberation; for our four companions, the Beni Omar Arabs, had kept on their way, and it was absolutely necessary not to let them get out of sight, as the track we were going was infested by robbers, and parties of a hostile tribe, it was reported, were abroad. I resolved, therefore, that the lad, Giorgio, should mount behind me, as Hassan’s horse was weaker than mine and could not carry double, and that Hassan should take the box; nor did it cost little pains, deprived as we were of cords or straps, to fasten the box on: indeed, it could not be done without transferring to my horse our barley and tethering pins. Selûm then informed us in what direction Mahannah was encamped; and, wishing him good by, we hastened after our companions.
Just at this time it began to snow. Our road wound through the mountain, in the dry bed of a torrent. Aforest of scattered turpentine trees grew in and about it. As we ascended, the cold and snow increased; and, the atmosphere being obscured, our Bedouins, having no longer their landmarks to guide them, were considerably embarrassed. We still kept in the torrent bed, and at last reached the summit of the mountain, whence we proceeded to descend, by a rapid declivity, into the plain on the other side.
The sun had now set. The servants’ luggage chafed the horse of my conductor so much, that he refused to advance; whilst my own, burdened with two riders, three pecks of barley, tethering irons, a small medicine-chest, and the little linen I had, seemed to support himself with difficulty. At last Hassan’s horse made a dead stand, and neither words nor beating could urge him on; so he dismounted and carried the luggage on his shoulder, whilst Giorgio got off from behind me, and led the horse. As it grew dark, the glare from the snow, which now covered the ground, served but to confuse the appearance of surrounding objects. Hassan and Giorgio again mounted. For a time a faint path served to guide us, until, losing this, we gave ourselves up to the guidance of chance. Our troubles increased. Watercourses, steep acclivities, and burrows of the jerboa, which cover all the Desert, continually obstructed us. Cold and wretched, I feared that every trip my horse made would throw one of us off, and knew not how we should remount, benumbed as our joints had now become.
Hassan’s horse was quite exhausted, and we deliberated on what was to be done. The other Bedouins, seeing no chance of bettering their situation, pulled up, and it was concluded that we must make our beds on the snow. The prospect was dismal. We had no water, no firewood, and only a few cakes of dry bread to eat. We had nothing to sleep on, nothing to cover us; no cave, no hole to creep into; no bush to lie under. These are moments when the imagination pictures nothing but dismal things. We were perhaps surrounded by enemies, perhaps removed leagues and leagues from any human being. The very Bedouins who had accompanied us were by trade mere robbers; and, whatever may be said of the protection they afford to such as have once put themselves under their care, I must confess I was not sure in my own mind that they would not be tempted to plunder us during the night. We gave our horses their feed of corn. I made Giorgio take his seat on one end of the deal box, with his back to me, placing myself on the other end, that from leaning against each other we might derive some mutual support and warmth. Hassan sat down by us, with the corn-bags under him. He and Giorgio soon fell into a doze, from which I occasionally awoke them, to prevent the danger of freezing to death. For my part, I could not get a wink of sleep; and the want of rest gave me a feverish heat, which saved me, in some measure, from the effects of the inclemency of the weather.
The morning of the 22nd was looked for with an impatience that can only be known to those who have found themselves in similar situations: it came at last. We resolved to diminish our luggage as much as possible. To this end we unpacked the deal box, threw the case away, and put its contents into the corn-bags; and, to relieve Hassan’s horse, which seemed hardly capable of standing on his legs, these were added to the burden of mine. We now mounted, the servant being behind me, as before. The snow had ceased, but a thick fog darkened the atmosphere. Our Bedouins, however, had found out where they were, and could, in a manner, judge what their course should be. They hurried on, as on the preceding day, whilst we did our utmost to keep up with them: but the animals, exhausted by such continued suffering, were no longer equal to the task. The Bedouins continued to gain on us, and at length we lost sight of them, and saw them no more.
At this distressing moment, the fog cleared up, and our delight may be conceived, when, on a neighbouring hill, we saw a drove of camels. We made towards it, and were informed by the herdsman, that the Beni Omar Bedouins were encamped in a bottom hard by. Our spirits cheered up. We met other herds; and at last saw a woman grubbing roots for fuel, a certain sign that we were close to the tents. In a few minutes we came to the edge of a glen, where was a large encampment. In the spirit of Eastern hospitality, wealighted at the first tent we came to, which was that of Shaykh Hamed, where we were civilly received. We warmed ourselves over a blazing fire: and, whilst we recounted the history of our night’s sufferings, the shaykh listened to the tale with all the unconcern imaginable; these being, with the exception of the snow, the everyday adventures of this hardy people.
Our horses, too, more to be pitied than ourselves, met with as little compassion. As they had not drunk since leaving Palmyra, I urged the necessity of melting some snow for them: but Hassan forgot, over the fire, the misery of his beast, who, tethered in the front of the tent, stood shivering with the cold, and was so enfeebled that he could scarcely stand. “The horse is done for,” was his expression,—“Yedebber Allah, the Lord will provide for him.” This trait of inhumanity may serve as an example (among many others that I could quote) of the false notions that travellers propagate of the tenderness of Arabs for animals. “God is bountiful,” they cry, and, tying the halter to the hind-leg of their mares, they turn them loose to find pasture and water where they can. Thus, the exhausted horse, tied close to us, came and almost licked our faces in token of thirst. The sight was too affecting; and I declared I would have some snow water, if no other was to be had. A boiler at length was produced, and enough snow was melted to assuage the most pressing calls of the poor animal.
To do me honour, a lamb was killed and served upat sunset, cut in pieces, and boiled with bread. The shaykh, to mark his respect still more, would not sit down till we had eaten, but, placing Hassan and Giorgio with me, insisted on waiting upon us: and Hassan, that he might not be outdone in politeness, raked over the dish with his hand, to find a tit-bit to present to him as he stood by, whilst I did the same to his son: and thus they amused themselves until we rose, when they sat down to devour the remainder.
The next morning was snowy. The Beni Omar found no pasture for their flocks, and gave us to understand that they were about to decamp. Their course was contrary to ours, and we were at a loss how to act. I stated my difficulties, that our horses were no longer serviceable; our baggage heavy; and begged for a camel to carry it, offering to pay for the hire: but there was none to be had, and we set off in the same order as we had arrived on the preceding day. Consideration for the state of the horses induced me to walk, and to order Giorgio to do the same. Hassan, it will be allowed, had double cause for doing so too: but the pride of a Bedouin is to be on horseback; and, in order that the answer to the question, so often put from one to another among them, “Are you mounted, or on foot?” might be in the affirmative, nothing could ever persuade him to walk, though the groans of his suffering horse reproached him at every step.
We were, however, unusually fortunate this day;for in half an hour we reached another encampment of the Beni Omar, and alighted at the tent of the shaykh himself. He was called Ali Bussal; and I was pleased that an opportunity presented itself of seeing a chieftain so renowned among the Bedouins for his prowess, and so dreaded in the neighbouring provinces, as the most formidable enemy to caravans that the Desert could produce. We passed the night with him. He was of a grave character in conversation; and his long white beard, joined with the solemnity of his manner, gave him the appearance of a saint more than of a robber. To compensate for his crimes, he was very religious, and was polite enough to insinuate to me that he esteemed Christians no better than dogs. Moslems are so accustomed to insult the followers of Christ, that it is always an effort when they condescend to put themselves on an equality with them.
Whenever Mahannah was at variance with the Turks of the towns bordering on the Desert, he sent Ali Bussal to plunder the caravans. Ali Bussal was caught on one occasion, and soundly bastinadoed by the governor of Hems: this, it may be supposed, had not increased his liking for the Osmanlis.
We had now obtained instructions where to find Mahannah; and, though the snow was deep, and the wounds on the back of Hassan’s horse were so fetid as to infect the air around him, it was necessary to proceed; for a Bedouin extends his hospitality throughthe night, but not willingly longer. Hospitality is a virtue of poor nations; a sort of convention for one party, where there are no inns, no houses, no towns, to offer what they would expect in return, should their own affairs lead them from home: otherwise, the stranger must starve. On these conditions, they share their mess with him; and it is a received usage, now strong as a law, that whoever presents himself during a meal, is invited to partake of it. Still it is often likely that him whom they feed they will finish by plundering—not openly; but they will continue to beg from him; or, operating on his fears, to induce him to give more than the value of what he has cost them.
We travelled about a league, and found some other tents, where we stopped for the night.
On the 25th, we quitted our host; and, after an hour’s ride, reached the advanced tents of the Melhem. We continued in a south-west direction for two hours more, when we alighted at Mahannah’s tent. On the way, Giorgio, who had a gun, killed two partridges of the Desert. They are seen in flights that may almost be mistaken for clouds: they are birds of passage; but I did not learn at what season they quit this country: they fly somewhat like plovers, and have pointed wings.
I was met by the emir with many kind expressions of the anxiety he had felt for my safe return. He was so far sincere, that, as he knew the case brought by the servant contained some trifling presents for himself,he was indeed anxious to have them in his possession. For when Giorgio, in his presence, on first reaching his tent, had inadvertently said as much, he did all in his power to induce him to open the box, although addressed to me. In a quarter of an hour after our arrival, he begged to be gratified with a sight of them: and when the sack was emptied, he grasped at them as a child would at sweetmeats. The cupidity of the Bedouins knows no bounds: and, during my absence, M. Lascaris had experienced the truth of this observation.
He had conceived a plan of carrying on a traffic in goods useful to the Bedouins, by establishing himself at Palmyra. Other views of a more extended nature also may be attributed to him, if we may believe M. de Lamartine. Be this as it may, in sending for his wife, he had desired her to bring with her a supply of such articles as were saleable in the Desert, and to be accompanied by an Aleppo Christian, named Fathallah,[37]whose knowledge of the language and of pedlary was to be useful, whilst his presence was to be a protection for her on the road from Hamah to the tents.
Madame Lascaris and this Fathallah happened to arrive a few hours after my return to the tents, on one of the most wet and windy days that I had ever seen.An interesting young creature of thirteen years, named Katinko, or Catherine, (who passed as Madame L.’s servant, but whose genteel look and resemblance to M. L. raised a suspicion that she was his daughter) was likewise with her. Cold and drenched with rain, after having passed two nights on the wet ground with no tent to cover them, they were overjoyed at last to find themselves among friends.
To win Mahannah’s favour, Madame Lascaris had brought with her presents for him in dress to a considerable amount. These were formally given to him, and in a moment the prince was equipped in his new habiliments. His sons likewise came in for their share, and it was evident that M. Lascaris had gone to the extent of his means to satisfy them all.
The weather, as I have observed, was very wet when Madame Lascaris arrived. Next day being fine, the travellers hung their wet clothes to dry. The emir, in the evening, finding himself warm by the fireside, threw off his pelisse, and, according to the usage common among Bedouins, gave it as a present to one of his people. He soon felt cold again, and, observing a pelisse which was hanging up to dry, he took it, and, putting it on, made it his own property. There was no remedy but to secure as quick as possible what remained.
It rained in the afternoon of the 27th. As there was no pasture for the camels, Mahannah was obliged to change his ground. We advanced in a north-eastdirection, about one league; having, before the tents were struck, eaten some dry bread: and we had nothing but dry bread and treacle for supper.
The day was more uncomfortable than the preceding, and the rain penetrated the tent in every direction. Soon after sunset, an alarm was given that an enemy’s party had suddenly appeared, and had already seized a drove of camels. In about five minutes, near fifty horsemen were mounted, and galloped off at full speed. Hassan, unobserved by me, had untied my horse, mounted him, and was galloping off too, when, catching sight of him, I told Mahannah, that if he did not order him immediately back, I would not fail to complain of his conduct. This menace had the desired effect, and the horse and Hassan returned. Fatigued as my horse was with his late sufferings, such an exertion would have killed him outright.
It seems that Mahannah had been apprised of the approach of this party, as the tents this day had been planted close to each other: whereas, on the preceding occasions, they had been scattered over a space of a square league. Half an hour had not passed when news was brought that the two parties were engaged. Sundry reports stated the number of wounded, how many mares were lost and taken, &c. The night was dark, and it rained incessantly. The Emir’s son had started as he was, without even boots on his feet, and others without their pelisses. All the night we remained in suspense; and M. Lascarisand I figured to ourselves the inconvenience we should experience, (to say no worse of it), if the hostile party should prove victorious.
In the morning, Nasar returned, and by degrees the other horsemen dropped in: we thus received a more correct account of what had happened. The Bedouin tribe of the Sebáhs were at war with some Arabs of the district of Horán. These latter had made an incursion on the Sebáhs, whose tents adjoined ours; and, although the Anizys were not implicated in the feud, several persons had been wounded on both sides, before an explanation could take place. The Arabs of the Horán had seized some camels of the Sebáh; but, by the intercession of the Anizys, they were given up.
I visited one Bedouin who had received a wound in the calf of his leg from a lance. Alum, powdered with crumbs of bread, was his remedy. He refused to suffer me to handle the wound at all, and said he should soon get well. In fact, the extreme temperance and spare diet of the Bedouins render their wounds less dangerous than the same would be to a European.
The mare of one of the emir’s sons could scarcely stand from fatigue. He wrapped her body in a piece of carpeting, with which he generally covered himself when he slept. Nasar caught a most severe rheumatism from head to foot, and I observed that this was one of the commonest maladies among them.
The inclemency of the weather, beyond what hadbeen known for many years, obliged me to remain a day longer with them. It was arranged that Giorgio should make another attempt to reach Palmyra in company with M. Lascaris;[38]and I, accompanied by my former guide, Hassan, set off on the 28th of January, to return to Hamah.
The weather was very cold, and sleet fell occasionally. We rode all day, and here a chasm in my journal obliges me to trust to my memory: for my fingers were so benumbed that I could not make notes. I recollect, that, while we were crossing that chain of mountains which I have called the Beláz, we passed the ruins of an edifice which looked something like a triumphal arch, and of Roman architecture. That part which I particularly observed was the portico, the pillars of which lay on the ground in the same order in which they had stood. There was an inscription, in very large letters, but of which I could only make out the letters IMP....[39]
Hassan was not willing that I should loiter, and I was too benumbed and fatigued even to feel the curiosity natural to me on such occasions. Hassanhad moreover told me several stories of the ferocity of hyenas and tigers in seasons so inclement as this; so that I expected to see one rush out upon us from every bush. Towards the afternoon, the severity of the cold augmented. We were still in the mountains, among a scattered forest of turpentine trees; but the sleet and snow, which drove directly in our faces, made it impossible to advance quickly. About four or five o’clock, we came to the mouth of a cavern, where we dismounted, and led our horses into it. They could just stand upright, but the water oozed through the roof upon them; and, for ourselves, we could hardly find a place free from wet whereon to sit. We had with us no provisions but unleavened bread and raisins. My pipe, which, under all difficulties, had been my greatest solace, served to beguile many hours of this night. Hassan would not light a fire, much as we stood in need of it; assuring me that there were too many robbers about to be able to do it with safety, as the blaze would betray us. It may be supposed what comfortless hours we passed in this situation.
Several times in the night Hassan peeped out of our den to see what turn the weather would take. As soon as the morning star was up, he told me we must start, as we had far to go. We tied on our wallets behind the saddles, which had not been taken off, and, on emerging from the cavern, I found that the sky promised a fine day, and that the morning star wasshining brilliantly. We rode along through scattered turpentine trees. The sun rose, and yesterday’s snow, now thawed into drops of water, shone like diamonds on the branches. On a sudden we came on a low Bedouin tent, and, before Hassan could decide whether we were to advance towards it, or to shun it, a Bedouin, who knew Hassan, immediately made his appearance. They saluted each other, and talked together about ten minutes, when we continued our journey. A little farther on we saw a ruined village of comparatively modern date.
We soon quitted the forest and mountains, and entered on an almost level country. The day proved mild, and we travelled on briskly. Soon after mid-day, we saw, about a league distant, some camels, mounted by Bedouins. We inclined towards them, and I suspected that Hassan had been informed of their march by the Bedouin we spoke to in the morning, as he showed no suspicions respecting them. We joined them in half an hour. They were four Bedouins going to Hamah; and, accommodating our pace to theirs, we marched with them the rest of the day. We soon came in sight of the ruins of Salamyah, which we passed, leaving them six miles to the south of us: then the Castle of Shumamys, which we left behind us; and after sunset, reached a ruined mosque, where, amidst the dung of animals, that had, no doubt, under circumstances like our own, sought shelter here, we seated ourselves, supped on figs, whichthe Bedouins gave us, and, wrapped in our abahs and sheep-skins, slept out the night.
The next day, about two or three in the afternoon, we reached Hamah. The Orontes had overflowed its banks, and on the bridge of Hamah the water reached up to our horses’ hocks.
Thus, during the twenty-eight days which I passed in the Desert, for fifteen I never washed my hands, never changed my clothes, and slept in a tent open on one side to the snow, the rain, and the wind: often did I awake with my feet soaked in wet. Excepting the six days I passed at Palmyra, it was seldom I ate anything but unleavened bread, figs, raisins, treacle, and rice. People may marvel at the extraordinary hardships of the Bedouin Arabs, who support life with a pinch of flour and a few dates, and at the hundred other wonders related of them. That which is most difficult to bear is the want of water, which, even when it abounds, being collected from holes in rocks and puddles, is quite muddy; yet, in my case, novelty and hunger made me tolerate, if not relish, everything. These are the sources of the liberty of the Arab. Brought up from his birth to bear privations, to which the inhabitants of towns and villages would not submit, he reigns the lord of a territory which nobody envies him: and, whilst he plants his tent at pleasure over a measureless waste, enjoys a freedom bought at a price that few are willing to pay for it.
I felt proud to have contemplated the Bedouins, not as most travellers do by a cursory sight of some stragglers whom chance throws in their way on the high road, or in the market-towns to which they resort; but in their own homes, in their most numerous encampments, and under the roof of the Emir, Mahannah el Fadel.
A few observations, which presented themselves in the course of my stay among them, and which would have interrupted the thread of the narrative, will not be altogether misplaced here. The Bedouins are very ceremonious. Whoever joins a party generally makes three salutations, to which every person replies, “Salám Alëikûm, peace be unto you: Allah messekûmbel khyr, the Lord give you a good night—strength to you.” To which the answers are, “Unto you be peace: A hundred good nights to you: God strengthen you also.” When a person of consequence enters, all rise; and as, from the nature of a tent where the entry and exit is but a step, this takes place very frequently, the repetition of this ceremony becomes extremely tiresome. Whenever any one drinks, he says, “In the name of God;” and, as he removes the cup from his lips, he is saluted on all sides by “Hannean” (much good may it do you), He puts it down with “El hamd lillah—Praise to God.”[40]
I have seen an Arab, in selling a measure of barley, take God to witness in every shape in which an oath can be worded of his being a loser by the bargain; adding, as he measured it out, “In the name of God the merciful:”—yet, to the certain knowledge of the bystanders, he was making fifty per cent. by his goods. Their thieving disposition allows not a moment’s peace to the traveller who is among them. His saddle-bags must always be with him, or they will be rifled: and, though he may sleep upon them, sit by them, and leave them only on pressing occasions for a moment, he may expect to find something missing. A plated curb to my bridle disappeared on the second night: my provision of barley for my horse soon followed, and I was obliged to content myself with the scanty pittance allowed me by the emir.