About noon, as we were proceeding at a smart footpace, Hassan observed on the ground some fresh camels’ dung. This seemed to attract his attention; and presently other indications of the same kind rendered it evident that somebody was travelling in the same direction before us. Hassan occasionally preceded me a few paces to reconnoitre. In this way we rode on for about an hour. On a sudden, he pulled up his horse, and, following the direction of his eyes, I espied something like the heads of men. He made me observe them, and said, “Perhaps they are robbers—be ready for a gallop.” As we came nearer, we made out the supposed men to be two Bedouins and a camel partially concealed in a hollow. “Do as I do,” was all he said; and putting his gun as in a posture ready for defence, although the rain that had poured all the morning rendered it absolutely useless, he advanced until we came abreast of them; they being about thirty yards out of the path. He then challenged them, and observing their motions, cried, “Push on,” and immediately put his horse into a full gallop. I did the same. At that moment the camel rose upon his legs, with a man mounted on him, who pursued us, whilst the other robber levelled his gun at us, which, probably from the wet, snapped—for it did not go off. The mounted robber followed us about half a mile, when, finding that he lost ground, and that his companion was far behind, he slackened his pace, and at last turned back.
About one o’clock, we came to some sand-hills, at which time we were abreast of the White Mountain, (Gebel el Abyad) two leagues off, in a northerly direction. These sand-hills continued for a league or more. We here saw some camels grazing, guarded by a Bedouin. Hassan spoke to him, and learned that he was of the Beni Omar Arabs, a tribe in subjection to Mahannah. We dismounted, ate a few raisins, and deliberated about passing the night with them, their tents not being above a league off: but at last it was determined to go on for Palmyra. We then entered a vast plain called El Mezah, bounded on the left by the White Mountain, and, on the right, by Mount Ayán. Vast as it was, its extreme evenness deceived the eye, and contracted its boundaries to the appearance of a valley. It seemed as if we almost touched the foot of the mountain which overhangs Palmyra, and which Hassan pointed to. “We have not above a league and a half to go,” said I. “Inshallah,” was his reply, in the Arabian manner; “if it please God;” and, taught by experience how equivocal an expression this was, I made up my mind for a double distance. Hassan’s horse was nearly knocked up, and it was necessary to remove his wallet upon mine. The plain, for the first league, has some patches of turf, but afterwards presents a dry, cracked, barren surface, totally destitute of vegetation. It appears that the soil is impregnated with salt, as is the plain which I afterwards saw to the east of Palmyra. At sunset we reached its termination, and entered between two hills into a valley, where were to be seen the remains of a reservoir enclosing the fountain-head, from which water was once conveyed by an aqueduct to Palmyra. It is called Abu el Fawáres, and is mentioned by Wood and Dawkins, in their splendid work on the remains of Palmyra. This aqueduct runs for a league, and terminates in the Valley of Tombs, at which we soon arrived. This valley is shut in on both sides by low mountains.
The moon had now risen, and threw a gloomy solemnity over these ancient monuments of the dead, which continued for about a mile. As we approached the angle, where the vast mass of ruins (as I supposed) would burst on my sight, my bosom thrilled with expectation. We turned it, when, straining my eyes, I looked in vain for the grand objects which I had expected; for the straggling columns of the colonnade, sunk in a low disadvantageous spot, were hardly to be discerned. Other feelings, which hope had for a moment drowned, again took possession of me. I recollected that I had been twelve hours on horseback, that I was hungry and thirsty. Following my guide among huge masses of stone, and pillars and fragments of buildings, towards the Temple of the Sun, we came to the gate, which we found shut; nor was it opened until Hassan had made himself known. Then, turning down a dirty lane, we reached the mud cottage which was to be my residence at Palmyra.
The lintel of the cottage door was part of a sculptured entablature, and an elegant Corinthian capital, turned upside down, formed the horse-block. The cottage itself consisted of a small chamber, twenty feet by twelve. In it was Hassan’s wife, her father, four children, two camels, and a donkey. We received a friendly welcome, and found a warm fire, although the smoke, having no chimney to escape by, almost blinded me. I seated myself on the bare ground, and, whilst a cup of coffee was preparing, reflected on the miserable state of the present inhabitants of this once celebrated city. It was soon known that a Frank had arrived, and the house, in a few minutes, was crowded with people. A large mess of rice was put on the fire, and a message came from the shaykh of the village, to say that, if I stood in need of anything, what he could command was mine. I requested a little firewood (as Hassan’s wife had nothing but camels’ dung for fuel) and a rush mat to put under me. By degrees my curious visitors left me. I ate a good supper, and went to bed in my clothes, surrounded by the camels, my hostess, and the family, there being only a partition breast-high between us. In the night, hearing the door creak, I raised my head, and saw one of the girls, about twelve years old, stark naked, who, having occasion to breathe the fresh air, did not think it necessary to put on any of her clothes, which, according, I suppose, to Bedouin custom, she had stripped off at bed-time. This appeared to be matter of no surprise to anybody but myself: yet decency is one of the features of the female character in these countries.
CHAPTER V.
Reflections on the ruins of Palmyra—Wood and Dawkins’s plates—Fountain of Ephca—Castle—Tombs—Cottage selected for Lady Hester—Visit to a curious cave—Justinian’s wall—Climate and diseases—Salt marshes—Causes of fevers—Air and climate of Palmyra—Gardens, corn-fields, and trees—Sulphureous waters—Dress of the men; and of the women—Departure from Palmyra—Lady Hester sends Giorgio to look for the Author—Fall of snow—The party lose themselves, and sleep in the snow—Encampment of Beni Omar Bedouins—Hassan’s unfeeling conduct—Pride of the Bedouins to ride on horseback—Encampment of Ali Bussal—False notions of the hospitality of Bedouins—Partridges of the Desert—Emir of the Melhem—M. Lascaris’s scheme of traffic—Arrival of Madame Lascaris—Attack of the Sebáh—Wounded Bedouin—Giorgio goes to Palmyra—The Author returns to Hamah—Ruins of a triumphal arch—Snow-storm—A night in a cavern—Ruined village—Selamyah—Ruined mosque—Hardships endured by Bedouins—Miscellaneous observations on their character and manners.
I rose with the sun, and, eager to correct the unfavourable impression which the view of the ruins had made in the dusk of the evening, I begged of Hassan to reconduct me to them. I sat down, still, as before, deceived in my expectations. As far as my memory served me, I found the engravings of Wood and Dawkins faithful; and I began to consider how it happened that, correct as to delineation, they conveyed an idea of the remains of Palmyra so much more favourable than the reality. It has already been stated that the ground on which they stand is disadvantageous. Edifices require elevation to set them off; and perhaps it may have struck some travellers, that, of all the vestiges of antiquity to be seen throughout modern Turkey, the Parthenon at Athens, and the Temple of Theseus at Sunium, have the most imposing appearance, owing to their position, each on the summit of a hill. It is not so with Palmyra. Situate, on the contrary, at the foot of lofty mountains, whose height renders all the works of art diminutive, its columns, if seen at the distance of a few hundred yards, dwindle to the size of tapers. Indistinct from the neighbouring mountains, they are still more so from the colour of the stone of which they are made: for it is of a yellow ochrish appearance, and the face of the surrounding soil is precisely of the same hue. Tints must be opposed to set each other off; so that, for want of this contrast, these celebrated ruins, so conspicuous on paper, are scarcely visible where they stand. And although the two artists had a right to give them as high relief as they could, yet have they been guilty of that species of deception which exhibits objects under a false colouring, by representing them with an appearance of freshness to which they have long since lost their claim. Yet, when we reflect on the vastness of the materials which have been collected, as it were, in the midst of a desert, we are lost in astonishment. There are pillars of granite of a single block, which (say those who have made researches on these subjects their study) must have been transported from Upper Egypt. All the buildings were composed of stones of an enormous size; and there are ceilings yet remaining of a single slab. Fragments of pillars and their entablatures strew the ground, and are so numerous that we might imagine all the inhabitants to have lived in palaces. The building, called by travellers the Temple of the Sun, alone contains within its walls more than space enough for the present Palmyrenes.
Passing through the triumphal arch, which terminates the long colonnade under which I had seated myself, I slowly walked down it, and, inclining to the left, came, at the distance of about a mile, to the sulphureous spring, called the fountain of Ephca. There were formerly five springs at Palmyra; at present this alone remains of them all. A magnificent edifice might once have adorned its entrance; and the remains of an altar, as also the broken shaft of a pillar which lies close to it, lead to that supposition. But at this day the stream, which is about two feet and a half deep, issues from the mouth of a rough arched grotto, from five to six feet broad and four feet high;—a man must stoop to enter it. The banks of the channel near the grotto are above ten feet high, seeming to be elevated by the accumulation of rubbish; for, after the stream has run about thirty yards, they sink to a level with its water.
Although it was the month of January, I stripped off my clothes, and entered the grotto. It widens from the mouth, and, about five yards in, is lofty enough for a tall man to stand upright. The smell of sulphur is faint; the taste of it not perceptible. The heat of the water might be about 80° of Fahrenheit, communicating the least possible impression of cold on immersing the body into it. Advancing, the water deepens to more than the height of six feet, and the roof of the vault lowers; but there is no increase of heat. My conductor was forward in recounting all the properties of the water; the chief one was that of imparting an extraordinary appetite to those who drink of it; but there were in his enumeration none medicinal, if this be not of that class. I brought away with me two fragments of the roof; but, learning that they made the whole conversation of the village, and that it was believed I had the power of converting them into gold, I threw them away; for the extraordinary price which some rich travellers have incautiously paid for fragments of ancient sculpture, intaglios, and the like, has given rise to the supposition among the Arabs that Franks never would purchase so dearly mere stones, unless for the purpose of transmuting them into more valuable materials.
On the 16th, I visited the Saracen fortress to the west of the ruins. When it was known where I was gone, I was followed by about thirty or forty women and children, who pointed out the best path to me, and climbed up the pointed rocks with an activity that made me tremble for their safety. The castle is moated, and the bridge which formed the communication of the opposite sides being broken down, it required much pains to clamber up to one of the windows, the only entrance now practicable.—The chief advantage of toiling up the mountain on which it stands is to enjoy the fine view of the surrounding country. To the east are seen the ruins; beyond them the salt marshes; and beyond these a plain, bounded by the horizon, and to which fancy lent an immeasurable extent: to the north, on the same chain on which the castle stands, is Mount Ebn Ali—so called from a small chapel erected on its summit in memory of some Mahometan santon of that name: to the west is the valley of Abu El Fewáres, and to the south, the end of Mount Ayûn, a chain which runs almost to Damascus. Descending from the castle, I entered some of the tombs, which are described so accurately by Wood and Dawkins. I brought away from them some few pieces of embalming silk, which showed clearly to what a degree of perfection the manufacture of that article had reached in ancient times.