April 27.—Early the next morning we deserted this uncomfortable lodging, and in about an hour arrived at the river Barrady, our road still descending. This is the river that waters Damascus, and enriches it with all its plenty and pleasure. It is not so much as twenty yards over, but comes pouring down from the mountains with great rapidity, and with so vast a body of water, that it abundantly supplies all the thirsty gardens, and the city of Damascus.
We crossed Barrady at a new bridge over it called Dummar. On the other side our road ascended, and in half an hour brought us to the brink of a high precipice, at the bottom of which the river runs, the mountain being here cleft asunder to give it admission into the plain below.
At the highest part of the precipice is erected a small structure, like a sheikh's sepulchre, concerning which the Turks relate this story:—That their prophet, coming near Damascus, took his station at that place for some time, in order to view the city, and, considering the ravishing beauty and delightfulness of it, he would not tempt his frailty by entering into it, but instantly departed, with this reflection upon it, that there was but one Paradise designed for man, and, for his part, he was resolved not to take his in this world.
You have, indeed, from the precipice, the most perfect prospect of Damascus. And certainly no place in the world can promise the beholder, at a distance, greater voluptuousness. It is situate in an even plain of so great extent, that you can but just discern the mountains that compass it on the farther side. It stands on the west side of the plain, at not above two miles' distance from the place where the river Barrady breaks out from between the mountains, its gardens extending almost to the very place.
The city itself is of a long straight figure, its ends pointing near north-east and south-west. It is very slender in the middle, but swells bigger at each end, especially at that to the north-east. In its length, as far as I could guess by my eye, it may extend near two miles. It is thick-set with mosques and steeples, the usual ornaments of the Turkish cities, and is encompassed with gardens extending no less, according to common estimation, than thirty miles round, which makes it look like a noble city in a vast wood. The gardens are thick-set with fruit-trees of all kinds, kept fresh and verdant by the waters of Barrady. You discover in them many turrets, and steeples, and summer-houses frequently peeping out from among the green boughs, which may be conceived to add no small advantage and beauty to the prospect. On the north side of this vast wood is a place called Solhees, where are the most beautiful summer-houses and gardens.
The greatest part of this pleasantness and fertility proceeds, as I said, from the waters of Barrady, which supply both the gardens and city in great abundance. This river, as soon as it issues out from between the cleft of the mountain before mentioned into the plain, is immediately divided into three streams, of which the middlemost and biggest runs directly to Damascus through a large open field called the Ager Damascenus, and is distributed to all the cisterns and fountains of the city. The other two, which I take to be the work of art, are drawn round, one to the right hand, and the other to the left, on the borders of the gardens, into which they are let as they pass by little currents, and so dispersed all over the vast wood, insomuch that there is not a garden but has a fine quick stream running through it, which serves not only for watering the place, but is also improved into fountains and other waterworks very delightful, though not contrived with that variety of exquisite art which is used in Christendom.
Barrady, being thus described, is almost wholly drunk up by the city and gardens. What small part of it escapes is united, as I was informed, in one channel again, on the south-east side of the city; and, after about three or four hours' course, finally loses itself in a bog there without ever arriving at the sea.
The Greeks, and, from them, the Romans, call this river Chrysorrhoas; but as for Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, mentioned in 2 Kings, v. 12, I could find no memory so much as of the names remaining. They must doubtless have been only two branches of the river Barrady; and one of them was probably the same stream that now runs through the Ager Damascenus, directly to the city, which seems, by its serpentine way, to be a natural channel. The other I know not well where to find; but it is no wonder, seeing they may and do turn and alter the courses of this river according to their own convenience and pleasure.
We continued a good while upon the precipice to take a view of the city; and indeed it is a hard matter to leave a station which presents you so charming a landscape. It exhibits the paradise below as a most fair and delectable place, and yet will hardly suffer you to stir away to go to it; thus at once inviting you to the city by the pleasure which it seems to promise, and detaining you from it by the beauty of the prospect.
Coming down the hill into the plain, we were there met by a janissary from the convent, sent to conduct us into the city. He did not think fit to carry us in at the west gate (which was nearest at hand), and so all across the city to the Latin convent where we were to lodge, for fear the Damascenes, who are a very bigoted and insolent race, should be offended at so great a number of Franks as we were; to avoid which danger he led us round about the gardens before we arrived at the gate. The garden walls are of a very singular structure. They are built of great pieces of earth, made in the fashion of brick and hardened in the sun. In their dimensions they are each two yards long, and somewhat more than one broad, and half a yard thick. Two rows of these, placed edgewise one upon another, make a cheap, expeditious, and, in this dry country, a durable wall.