From hence, in about another hour, we arrived at the foot of a mountain called Occaby (Akabi), or, as the word denotes, Difficult; and indeed we found its ascent fully answerable to its name. The moisture and slipperiness of the way at this time, added to the steepness of it, greatly increased our labour in ascending it, insomuch that we were a full hour in gaining the top of the hill. Here we found no more woods or hills; but a fine country, well cultivated and planted with silk gardens, through which, leaving on the right hand a village called Citte Galle, inhabited solely by Maronites, we came in one hour to Bellulca. Here we repaired to a place which is both the khan of the village and the aga's house; and resolving, by reason of the rains, which fell very plentifully, to make this our lodging, we went to visit the aga, with a small present in our hands, in order to procure ourselves a civil reception. But we found little recompense from his Turkish gratitude; for, after all our respect to him, it was not without much importunity that we obtained permission to have the use of a dry part of the house, the place where we were at first lodged lying open to the wind and the beating in of the rain. Our whole stage, this day, was not much above four hours; our course about south-west.
Being informed that there were several Christian inhabitants in this place, we went to visit their church, which we found so poor and pitiful a structure, that here Christianity seemed to be brought to its humblest state, and Christ to be laid again in a manger. It was only a room of about four or five yards square, walled with dirt, having nothing but the uneven ground for its pavement; and for its ceiling, only some rude staves laid across it, and covered with bushes to keep out the weather. On the east side was an altar, built of the same materials with the wall; only it was paved at the top with potsherds and slates, to give it the face of a table. In the middle of the altar stood a small cross, composed of two laths nailed together in the middle, on each side of which ensign were fastened to the wall two or three old prints, representing our blessed Lord and the blessed Virgin, &c., the venerable presents of some itinerant friars that had passed this way. On the south side was a piece of plank supported by a post, which we understood was the reading desk, just by which was a little hole commodiously broke through the wall to give light to the reader. A very mean habitation this for the God of heaven! but yet held in great esteem and reverence by the poor people, who not only come with all devotion hither themselves, but also deposit here whatever is most valuable to them, in order to derive upon it a blessing. When we were there, the whole room was hung about with bags of silkworms' eggs, to the end that, by remaining in so holy a place, they might attract a benediction, and a virtue of increasing.
March 3.—The next morning flattered us with the hopes of a fair day, after the great rains which had fallen for near eight hours together. We therefore ventured to leave Bellulca, with no great thanks to it for our entertainment. But we had not gone far, before we began to wish that we had kept our former accommodation, bad as it was, for the rains began to break out afresh with greater fury than before; nor had we more comfort under foot, the road being very deep and full of sloughs. However, we resolved to go forward, in hopes of a better time, and in four hours (very long ones in such uncomfortable circumstances) we arrived at Sholfatia, a poor village situate upon a small river which we were obliged to pass. A river we might call it now, it being swollen so high by the late rains that it was impassable, though at other times it be but a small brook, and in the summer perfectly dry.
Here, instead of mending our condition, as we expected, we began to drink more deeply of the bitter cup of pilgrims, being brought to such a strait that we knew not which way to turn ourselves. For (as I said) the stream was not fordable, so that there was no going forward; and, as for facing about and returning to the place from whence we came, that was a thing we were very averse to, well knowing, by that morning's experience, the badness of the road, and likewise having reason to expect but a cold welcome at our journey's end. As for lodging in the village, that was a thing not to be endured; for the houses were all filled with dirt and nastiness, being inhabited promiscuously by the villagers and their cattle. As for lying in the campagnia, the rain was so vehement, we could not do that without an evident danger both to ourselves and horses.
But whilst we were at this nonplus, not knowing which course to take, the rain abated, and so we resolved to pitch in the open field, though thoroughly soaked with the wet, esteeming this however the least evil. Accordingly, we betook ourselves to a small ascent by the water-side, intending there, under our tents, to wait the falling of the stream.
We had not enjoyed this cessation of rain long, when it began to pour down afresh, with terrible lightning and thunder. And now our care was renewed, and we knew not well which to be most concerned for; whether ourselves, who enjoyed the miserable comfort of a dropping tent over us, or for our servants and horses, which had nothing but their own clothes to protect them. At last, there being a small Sheikh's house, or burying-place hard by, we comforted ourselves with hopes that we might take sanctuary there. The only difficulty was how to get admission into so reverenced a place, the Turks being generally men of greater zeal than mercy. To negotiate this affair, we sent a Turk (whom we had taken with us for such occasions) into the village, ordering him to try first by fair means to gain admittance, and, if that failed, to threaten that we would enter by force. But the religion of this place was of that kind which supersedes instead of improving humanity. The people absolutely denied us the small charity we demanded, and sent us word they would die upon our swords before they would yield to have their faith defiled; adding, farther, that it was their faith to be true to Hamet and Aly, but to hate and renounce Omar and Abu Beker, and that this principle they were resolved to stand by. We told them we had as bad an opinion of Omar and Abu Beker as they could have; that we desired only a little shelter from the present rain, and had no intention to defile their faith. And thus, with good words, we brought them to consent that we might secure our baggage in the Sheikh's house; but, as for ourselves and arms, it was our irreversible sentence to be excluded out of hallowed walls. We were glad, however, to get the merciless doors open upon any terms, not doubting but we should be able to make our advantage of it afterwards, according to our desire, which we actually did; for when it grew dark, and the villagers were gone to sleep, we all got into the places of refuge, and there passed a melancholy night among the tombs; thus escaping, however, the greater evil of the rain, which fell all night in great abundance.
Being now crept into the inside of the Sheikh's house, I must not omit, in requital for our lodgings, to give some account of the nature of such structures. They are stone fabrics, generally six or eight yards square (more or less), and roofed with a cupola, erected over the graves of some eminent Sheikhs; that is, such persons, as by their long beards, prayers of the same standard, and a kind of Pharisaical superciliousness (which are the great virtues of the Mohammedan religion), have purchased to themselves the reputation of learning and saints. Of these buildings there are many scattered up and down the country (for you will find among the Turks far more dead saints than living ones). They are situated commonly, though not always, upon the most eminent and conspicuous ascents. To these oratories the people repair with their vows and prayers, in their several distresses, much after the same manner as the Romanists do to the shrines of their saints. Only in this respect the practice of the Turks seems to be more orthodox, in regard that though they make their saint's shrine the house of prayer, yet they always make God alone, and not the saint, the object of their addresses.
March 4.—To revive us after the heaviness of the last night, we had the consolation to be informed this morning, that the river was fordable at a place a little farther down the stream; and, upon experiment, we found it true as was reported. Glad of this discovery, we made the best despatch we could to get clear of this inhospitable place, and, according to our desires, soon arrived with all our baggage on the other side of the river.
From hence, ascending gently for about half an hour, we came to the foot of a very steep hill, which, when we had reached, its top presented us with the first prospect of the ocean. We had in view, likewise, at about two hours' distance to the westward, the city Latichea (Latakiyah), situate on a flat fruitful ground close by the sea; a city first built by Seleucus Nicator, and by him called in honour of his mother, Λαοδίκεια, which name it retains, with a very little corruption of it, to this day. It was anciently a place of great magnificence, but in the general calamity which befell this country it was reduced to a very low condition, and so remained for a long time. But of late years it has been encouraged to hold up its head again, and is rebuilt, and become one of the most flourishing places upon the coast, being cherished and put in a way of trade by Kaplan Aga, a man of great wealth and authority in these parts, and much addicted to merchandise.
From the hill which we last ascended, we had a small descent into a spacious plain, along which we travelled southward, keeping the sea on the right hand, and a ridge of mountains on the left. Having gone about one hour and a half in this plain, we discerned on the left hand, not far from the road, two ancient tombs. They were chests of stone, each two yards and a half long. Their cavities were covered over with large tables of stone, that had been lifted aside probably in hopes of treasure. The chests were carved on the outside with ox-heads, and wreaths hanging between them, after the manner of adorning heathen altars. They had likewise, at first, inscriptions graven on them; but these were so eaten out, that one could not discover so much as the species of the characters. Here were also several foundations of buildings; but whether there were ever any place of note situated hereabouts, or what it might be, I cannot resolve.