Being returned to the city, we were shown the gate at which St. Paul was let down in a basket[629]. This gate is at present walled up by reason of its vicinity to the east gate, which renders it of little use.
Entering again into the city, we went to see the great patriarch residing in this city. He was a person of about forty years of age. The place of his residence was mean, and his person and converse promised not any thing extraordinary. He told me there were more than one thousand two hundred souls of the Greek communion in that city.
April 30.—The next day we went to visit the gardens, and to spend a day there. The place where we disposed of ourselves was about a mile out of town. It afforded us a very pleasant summer-house, having a plentiful stream of water running through it. The garden was thick-set with fruit trees, but without any art or order. Such as this are all the gardens hereabouts; only with this odds, that some of them have their summer-houses more splendid than others, and their waters improved into greater variety of fountains. In visiting these gardens, Franks are obliged either to walk on foot, or else to ride upon asses, the insolence of the Turks not allowing them to mount on horseback. To serve them upon these occasions here are hackney asses always standing ready equipped for hire. When you are mounted, the master of the ass follows his beast to the place where you are disposed to go, goading him up behind with a sharp-pointed stick, which makes him despatch his stage with great expedition. It is apt sometimes to give a little disgust to the generous traveller to be forced to submit to such marks of scorn; but there is no remedy; and, if the traveller will take my advice, his best way will be to mount his ass contentedly and to turn the affront into a motive of recreation, as we did. Having spent the day in the garden, we returned in the evening to the convent.
May 1.—The next day we spent at another garden, not far distant from the former, but far exceeding it in the beauty of its summer-house and the variety of its fountains.
Sunday, May 2.—We went, as many of us as were disposed, to Sydonaiia, a Greek convent about four hours distant from Damascus to the northward, or north by east. The road, excepting only two steep ascents, is very good. In this stage we passed by two villages, the first called Tall, the second Meneen. At a good distance on the right hand is a very high hill, reported to be the same on which Cain and Abel offered their sacrifices, and where also the former slew his brother, setting the first example of bloodshed to the world.
Sydonaiia is situated at the farther side of a large vale, on the top of a rock. The rock is cut with steps all up, without which it would be inaccessible. It is fenced all round at the top, with a strong wall, which incloses the convent. It is a place of very mean structure, and contains nothing in it extraordinary, but only the wine made here, which is indeed most excellent. This place was at first founded and endowed by the emperor Justinian. It is at present possessed by twenty Greek monks and forty nuns, who seem to live promiscuously together, without any order or separation.
Here are upon this rock, and within a little compass round about it, no less than sixteen churches and oratories, dedicated to several names. The first, to St. John; second, to St. Paul; third, to St. Thomas; fourth, to St. Babylas; fifth, to St. Barbara; sixth, to St. Christopher; seventh, to St. Joseph; eighth, to St. Lazarus; ninth, to the blessed Virgin; tenth, to St. Demetrius; eleventh, to St. Saba; twelfth, to St. Peter; thirteenth, to St. George; fourteenth, to All Saints; fifteenth, to the Ascension; sixteenth, to the Transfiguration of our Lord; from all which, we may well conclude this place was held anciently in no small repute for sanctity. Many of these churches I actually visited, but found them so ruined and desolate, that I had not courage to go to all.
In the chapel made use of by the convent for their daily services, they pretend to show a great miracle, done here some years since, of which take this account, as I received it from them. They had once in the church a little picture of the blessed Virgin, very much resorted to by supplicants, and famous for the many cures and blessings granted in return to their prayers. It happened that a certain sacrilegious rogue took an opportunity to steal away this miraculous picture; but he had not kept it long in his custody, when he found it metamorphosed into a real body of flesh. Being struck with wonder and remorse at so prodigious an event, he carried back the prize to its true owners, confessing and imploring forgiveness for his crime. The monks having recovered so great a jewel, and being willing to prevent such another disaster for the future, thought fit to deposit it in a small chest of stone, and placing it in a little cavity in the wall behind the high altar, fixed an iron gate before it, in order to secure it from any fraudulent attempts for the future. Upon the gates there are hanged abundance of little toys and trinkets, being the offerings of many votaries in return for the success given to their prayers at this shrine. Under the same chest in which the incarnate picture was deposited they always place a small silver basin, in order to receive the distillation of a holy oil, which they pretend issues out from the inclosed image, and does wonderful cures in many distempers, especially those affecting the eyes.
On the east side of the rock is an ancient sepulchre hollowed in the firm stone. The room is about eight yards square, and contains in its sides (as I remember) twelve chests for corpses. Over the entrance there are carved six statues as big as the life, standing in three niches, two in each niche. At the pedestals of the statues may be observed a few Greek words, which, as far as I was able to discern them in their present obscurity, are as follows:—