The modern village consists of some forty houses massed together with flat roofs, on which the dirty and filthy inhabitants sleep in the summer season, to prevent being eaten by flies and bedbugs, and bitten by scorpions, which they are too lazy to destroy.
The following morning, leaving Cesarea Philippi, we pass over a well watered country, whose inhabitants possess more energy and enterprise, improving, in a small degree, a few of the natural advantages which surround them. We camped at night near what is said to have been "one of the burial places of Nimrod;" and the next day, after an interesting ride of a few hours, on ascending an eminence, a panorama of great beauty and magnificence burst upon our view—the city of Damascus, "the Pearl of the East," its wide extended plains, on which are a hundred villages, numerous mosques looming up here and there, above the immense, spreading mass of broad, white roofs, their great swelling domes and tapering minarets adorned with golden crescents, the great Plain of Damascus, ornamented with rich fields and beautiful gardens, groves of popular and walnut, orchards of figs, apricots and pomegranates, and numerous vineyards, sprinkled here and there with tall, conical cypresses, and now and then a palm lifting its graceful head, stretching east far away till lost beneath the gray horizon northward, till reaching the mountains of Anti-Lebanon, and away south, where it is bounded by the river Pharpar, of Scripture memory. The picturesque appearance of the circling hills and mountains casts an air of singular enchantment around this profoundly magnificent scenery—the long bare ridge of Anti-Lebanon, the snow-capped peak of Hermon, distant some forty miles, a multitude of beautiful conical hills, and still beyond, a long ridge of pale blue mountains, the "Hills of Bashan."
Passing along this plain, we entered Damascus, rode through some of its principal streets and camped outside the walls, on the banks of the Abana. Much of the richness and beauty of the Plain of Damascus is owing to the invigorating influences of this stream of Bible celebrity, which flows through it from west to east, and is conducted from its channel, and carried on to the plain. Another mode of irrigation, however, is adopted in places where the Abana cannot be reached. It being rather peculiar, I will describe it: A well is first dug till water is discovered; the slope of the plain is then followed, when another is sunk, forty or fifty yards distant; the two are then connected by a subterranean channel, leaving sufficient fall for the water to flow. In this manner a long line of wells is constructed, and the stream of water thus secured is at last on a level with the surface, when it is ready to be used. The plain has a great number of these curious aqueducts, several of which extend along from two to three miles underground. Where the waters of one are spreading life and verdure over the surface, another below is gathering a new supply, obtaining it, in some measure, from the surplus of the former, which soaks through the soil.
We called on the American Consul, who treated us courteously and assisted us in accomplishing the object of our visit to Damascus. Before we left, he spent an hour under our tent in conversation mutually agreeable. We visited Prince Abd-el-Kader, who, during the invasion of Algiers by the French, fought so valiantly to preserve the freedom of his country. The interview was pleasant and interesting—Mocha, in elegant cups, served in Oriental style, illustrated his good feelings and respectful consideration.
Damascus is supposed to be nearly four thousand years old, the oldest city in the world. Some affirm that it was founded by Uz, the son of Aram. At least, it was a noted place in the days of Abraham—the steward of his house was mentioned as "Eliezer of Damascus." The city is about four miles in circumference, and contains one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants—about eighteen thousand of these are Christians, six thousand Jews, and the rest Mohammedans. The Christian population, previous to the massacre of 1860, numbered about thirty-two thousand. During the three days of those bloody and heart rending scenes, it is supposed that nearly three thousand Christians were murdered. Their private dwellings and churches were burned, their property destroyed, and the survivors driven forth from their homes penniless, with no means of support. Women and girls were seized and compelled to suffer the most fearful of all forms of slavery. Many of the buildings of these sufferers still lie in ruins. In walking the streets of Damascus, among the staring crowds, I imagined there was discernable, in the sombre countenances of many of the people, similar feelings to those which prompted the massacre of 1860, and that they were only waiting an opportunity.
Damascus is noted for the number of its mosques. We gained access to the principal one, partly through the courtesy of our American Consul, and partly through the stimulating influence of a golden Napoleon. On entering we pulled off our boots and put on slippers. In Catholic countries, on entering places of worship, taking off the hat is the invariable requisition, while in Mohammedan jurisdiction the temple of devotion cannot be entered without taking "off the shoes," while the chapeau may remain undisturbed. This ancient structure, the "Grand Harem," as it is termed, is second only to the Mosque of Omar. The Mosque and square cover an area in length of eleven hundred feet, and eight hundred feet in breadth. It has three styles of architecture, and is of great antiquity. It was originally Pagan, then Syrian Christian, and now Mohammedan. On one side it has a court surrounded by cloisters with arches in front, resting on columns of granite, limestone and marble. It has three minarets—the "Western Minaret," the "Minaret of the Bride," and the "Minaret of Jesus." According to Mohammedan tradition, when Christ comes to judge the world He will first appear upon this minaret, bearing His name, He will then enter the mosque, and summon to His presence men of every denomination. Under this mosque is a cave containing a casket of gold, in which is said to be the veritable head of John the Baptist. Any doubts we may have cherished of its identity we refrained from expressing, the same as when shown similar curiosities in the more enlightened Christian churches. We ascended one of the minarets, where we had a splendid view of Damascus and its environs.
A gentleman who spent several weeks in Damascus, hunting relics and curiosities, related to me the following anecdote concerning the founding of an ancient mosque, which stood in sight of our encampment. The Sultan, wishing to erect a mosque, engaged a distinguished architect, giving him instructions as to the dimension, style and location, fixing the site in the centre of Damascus. The architect, having completed the work, repaired to the Sultan to report his proceedings, and claim his reward. The Sultan enquired if he had followed his directions. He replied that he had built the mosque according to instructions in every particular, that it was beautiful and magnificent, and he felt assured the Sultan would be highly gratified; but he had ventured to depart in one item from his instructions—considering that Damascus had a tendency to spread in one particular direction, he had located the mosque a short distance towards that point, from the centre of the city. The Sultan graciously complimented him on his peculiar foresight, dismissed him with flattering expressions, told him to go home, and a commissioner should be sent to examine his work, and if approved, he should be abundantly rewarded. No sooner, however, had he returned, than an order was sent by the Sultan to have him beheaded immediately, and the following inscription engraved upon his tomb, "Let this architect's head be restored when this mosque becomes the centre of Damascus." The gentleman said he read this inscription, in Arabic, on a decaying tomb near the mosque.
The external view of the private dwellings of the people is not inviting. The rough mud walls and projecting upper chambers, supported by decaying timbers, have a singularly rickety appearance. The entrance is by a miserable looking doorway through a narrow, winding passage, and not unfrequently through a stable-yard; and around the whole is cast an air of peculiar squalidness. The inside, however, exhibits a better complexion; many are neat and comfortable, and some approach to splendor, and even gorgeousness, have an open court with ornamented pavements, a marble basin in the centre, surrounded with jets d'eau, citron, lemon and orange trees, and flowering shrubs, affording shade and filling the air with perfume. The apartments are furnished with chairs and sofas, with soft cushions, sometimes covered with embroidered silk and satin, the walls wainscotted, carved and gilded, and the ceiling covered with ornaments.
A fine macadamized road leading over some fifty miles, from Damascus to Beyrout, constructed by a French company, is the only decent road in Syria or Palestine. We passed over this thoroughfare through an interesting country, possessing natural scenery of peculiar beauty and grandeur, arriving at Beyrout, a seaport on the Mediterranean, in renewed health and vigor, gratified and instructed by our tour through Syria and Palestine.
Lorenzo Snow.