In Antioch our stay was, much to our regret, comparatively short; for who would willingly quit so fair a spot—a perfect Paradise, and rich in the fairest gifts of nature? A healthy climate, a cloudless sky, luxuriant fruits and flowers, meadows and pasturages, high hills and valleys; the mountain and the plain bespangled with trees, the wild myrtle and other fragrant shrubs, intersected by a glorious river; the earth producing nourishment for droves upon droves of cattle, and domestic as well as wild fowl; the river abounding in eels, and the distant sea furnishing delicious fish of fifty varieties. What more could mortal man on earth desire? All these can Antioch boast of, besides the many pleasant reminiscences connected with the spot. Its primitive Christian Church, the great success that crowned the early efforts of those two devout and indefatigable apostles, Paul and Barnabas;—the city, the birthplace of St. Luke, the beloved physician, where originated the name of that faith, which is our pride, our boast, and the source of all our hope; these are ties which render Antioch, in the devout Christian’s estimation, second only to Jerusalem. When we were at this place many parts of the once famous walls of the city were still in perfect condition, a wonderful proof of the skill and persevering labours of those brave but alas unsuccessful men who strove permanently to plant the cross in the countries where it had first been raised, and had once triumphantly flourished. Though through so many succeeding generations the city has been subjected to every imaginable disaster, fire, invasion, revolt, and the terrible effects of violent earthquakes, yet nature still smiles upon the surrounding country as brightly as ever she shone in the zenith of her city’s glory. Its palaces and other magnificent buildings, the handiwork of mortal man, had, with man, all crumbled away to dust. Its millions of inhabitants have dwindled down to some few thousands, and in this respect the wreck is complete; but the fairness of the morning, and the freshness of the breeze, the beauty of the prospect, the flowers, and fruits, and trees, these continue the same as in the wealthiest era of the SeleucidÆ. Man and man’s triumphant domes are nowhere to be seen; a few crazily built houses, and a few straggling inhabitants, are all that now constitute the modern town of Antakia.

Yet, notwithstanding all this, the vast extent of land in the neighbourhood of Antioch which is devoted solely to the cultivation of mulberry-trees, and the great space of still uncultivated ground which might be devoted to a like purpose, gives ample assurance that, in the one article of silk alone, an immense revenue might be derived, and a very large population be maintained in easy, if not affluent, circumstances. As matters stand at the present day, the silk produced yields no inconsiderable revenue; but the plantations are the exclusive property of a few independent proprietors, who, themselves reaping more than a lion’s share, leave to the great herd of the inhabitants a paltry, miserable pittance, which can scarcely find them the very barest necessaries of life, although Antioch is acknowledged to be perhaps the cheapest place in the known world.

Whilst at Antioch, we visited the water-mills now occupying the site of the once celebrated groves of Daphne, and thence returning, took horses and proceeded to Suedia over the selfsame ground once familiar to Paul and Barnabas, when those two apostles, like ourselves, went down to Seleucia to take shipping from thence. The whole space intervening between Antioch and Suedia, a distance of nearly twenty miles, is occupied by luxuriant mulberry plantations and orchards of delicious fruit-trees; fruits that are peculiar to this neighbourhood having been introduced and cultivated with great care, through a series of many years, by a philanthropic English gentleman, who distributed cuttings and grafts throughout the district.

At Suedia we remained two days, the guests of this hospitable gentleman, visiting in that interval—the site where stood the pillar of Simeon Stylites—the delightful country seats of Mr. Barker at Bitias and Huderbey, and lastly, the splendid ruined tunnel and aqueduct, besides other remains of the once wealthy Seleucia. This done, we hired an Arab felucca, which, sailing out of the Orontes, and crossing the Gulf of Antioch in the short space of seven hours, carried us over to Lattakia, the ancient Laodicea.

Arrived at Lattakia, we became the guests of the hospitable brothers Elias. Signor Mosi Elias is the British vice-consul at that port; and seldom have I had the happiness of meeting with a more worthy man; but, in fact, the whole of his family are distinguished for their great courtesy and hospitality to all strangers. This eulogy may fairly be extended to all the native agents established along the sea-coast of Syria; although, unfortunately, their humble efforts are not always duly appreciated. English gentlemen, accustomed to every comfort and luxury that wealth can command, little imagine the expense and trouble incurred by many of the humble Syrian agents in their efforts to afford hospitality to British travellers. Receiving no salary, and yet compelled to maintain a certain position to support the dignity of office, the means in their power must necessarily be limited; but as far as house-room goes—a bed, a dinner, breakfast, and supper, according to their limited means; these are always cheerfully offered to the traveller; and the poor consular agent, who has almost insuperable difficulties to contend with, so as to enable him to impress the local authorities with a due sense of the importance and respectability of his office, is glad to avail himself of the opportunity of having an Englishman as guest under his roof, to convince the neighbours and his fellow-townsmen of his influence with the British. I have known instances where a poor consular agent has even parted with some valuable family relic, so as to enable him to afford a hearty welcome to some Englishman of distinction; while, perhaps, the only return he has met with, was to be treated with supreme contempt and derision, even to his face; or to have his name bandied about to the world in some gaudily bound book of travels, in which authors have seen fit to make sport of men, who, in all probability, sacrificed a night’s rest and comfort to contribute both towards them in a strange land.

While on this subject, I may record one instance which came to my knowledge, and which was really too scandalous not to be made known.

A party of travellers, for I cannot style them gentlemen, five or six in number, were travelling through Syria and Palestine, accompanied by a retinue of servants with tents, baggage, and every luxury and comfort that money could command. Arriving at one of the seaport towns, where dwelt an English agent (a good old man, who was a Syrian by birth), they pitched their tents outside of the town, and sending their insolent dragoman to the agent, informed him that it was their intention to remain a couple of days in that neighbourhood, and commanded him to procure them guides to shew them over the town and its vicinity, so that they might see all that was worth being seen. To this, the agent really assented; and “on hospitable thoughts intent,” dressed himself for the occasion, and, preceded by his cawass, went to the travellers’ tents to pay his respects, and to offer them any little services in his power. Finding that they required no further aid, he then told them, that although they had placed the possibility of being useful to them beyond his reach, he trusted that they would not wholly deprive him of the pleasure of their company; and invited them to dine at his house at an early hour the next day. This invitation the travellers, who had barely treated the old man with civility, thought proper to accept, and the next day they duly made their appearance.

Meanwhile, the poor consul, whose stock of crockery was rather scant, and whose knives and forks mustered but a meagre show, endeavoured, by buying or borrowing, to make things as tidy and complete as he possibly could; but it often happens, that in such small villages as that in which the agent resided, and where European vessels seldom resort, European merchandise is very rare; and such a thing as a plated spoon or a knife and fork, is not to be met with for love or money. This was precisely the case in the instance before us; and the poor agent was put to his wit’s end in discovering that, after every effort, his stock of knives still fell short of the necessary complement by a knife. In this dilemma, he was quite at a nonplus what to do; till, finally, he resolved to throw himself upon the known courtesy of an Englishman, and explain exactly how matters stood; begging of the guests on their arrival to let their servants fetch from their own tents such implements for table use, as were indispensably requisite for the accommodation of all.

No sooner, however, had the poor agent explained the state of affairs by means of the interpreter, than the guests, one and all, fell into a violent passion, and asked the consul how he had dared to insult them by asking them to dinner, when he was not in a position to treat them as became persons of their rank and distinction. Saying this, they swept from the room in a towering passion, leaving the poor agent lost in amazement how to account for such conduct from persons who styled themselves English gentlemen, and overcome with shame and vexation that his neighbours should have been witness to such an outrage.

This anecdote requires no comment. Happily such instances of gross misconduct are of rare occurrence, but it plainly exemplifies the absurd system followed by government in placing native agents all over Syria and Turkey, to whom they do not afford means of maintaining a position which ought to command respect.

The present system of native agencies is altogether a mistake; they should be entrusted only to those who have previously had a European education. Most of those now employed have been reared in dread of the very name of the local powers, and are inefficient in cases of controversy between subjects of two nations.

I may here be permitted to deviate a little from the subject of Lattakia and my travels, to make a few remarks on the uses and abuses of the protection-system, so largely practised all over Syria and Turkey.

The abuses of the system are very great; this is much to be regretted, because in the main the arrangements existing between the Ottoman government and European powers with regard to this particular subject, viz., that of the privileges enjoyed by Europeans to protect a limited number of persons actually in the service of consuls, merchants, and others, is a very great boon to Europeans. Were it not for this privilege, Europeans residing in Syria would find it a very difficult matter to procure good and efficient servants at moderate wages.

In some parts of Syria, where every creature-comfort or necessary is extremely cheap, the lower orders, who are generally of an indolent disposition, would much prefer remaining idle for one-half of the year to engaging in any occupation which might make it incumbent on them to go through a certain portion of daily labour; and this they can afford to do, as their habits are frugal, and the amount gained in one day by a labourer, will suffice to support himself and family for three days. This applies equally to the fellah or peasant employed in cultivation. His portion of the silk harvest is sufficient to maintain him till the wheat crop is gathered in, when he earns with his scythe a sufficiency to maintain him in idleness till the olive and grape harvests arrive, and then he is either paid in cash or allowed a certain quantity of wheat, oil, wine, aqua vitÆ, dibis, [92] raisins, etc., as recompense for his labour. Of this store he lays by a sufficiency for the winter; the silk and the surplus of the wheat, etc., he either sells or barters for other household requisites, such as clothing, butter and charcoal. He brings his own fuel from the mountains, and, if he be at all a careful manager, can keep an ass or a mule of his own to carry goods and passengers to and from the nearest towns and villages. Thus, with a very small amount of labour, the peasant of Syria can afford to have an idle time of it, were he not in terror of government taxes; for although the system of taxation is fairly and justly arranged, and in reality the sums levied are small in proportion to the income, still there are understrappers, besides their own Christian Nazir and Sheikhs, who peculate to a large extent under the plea of some false necessity. This induces the peasant gladly to embrace any opportunity that may offer of entering into the service of a Frank; for from the hour of his employment he is, to all intents and purposes, the subject of another power; he is exempt from taxation, and the officials durst not intrude themselves upon the privacy of his household, under penalty of being at loggerheads with the consuls and pashas, and possibly of being exposed to the ignominy of the bastinado.

Now the very possession of this power to protect is sufficient to raise an Englishman much in the estimation of the Turks, and other natives of Syria; and were this privilege used with moderation, and not abused, it would become, as I have already stated, a boon to Europeans.

The great misfortune is that there is no existing line of distinction which might separate the herd of Syro-European inhabitants, from those really and virtually Europeans by birth and education. These two distinct classes are as separated from each other as light is from darkness, yet unfortunately possessing like powers and like privileges, the latter class, who fill the posts of consuls, merchants, clerks, missionaries, doctors, and a few tradesmen being strictly gentlemen in their principles.

The former class consists of men, whose paternal ancestors were European, and who scrupulously claim their rights as such. Most of them have intermarried amongst their own peculiar class, so as to form a distinct and new race of inhabitants in Syria. They have inherited from their fathers in a lineal descent, their names, nationality, and wealth, and in many instances their consular dignity. Some few have inherited the consulates without proportionate means to support the dignity, and the mass of this class being linked together by marriage ties, almost every man is grandfather, uncle, cousin, nephew, father, brother, or son, or brother-in-law to his next-door neighbour. It is with this latter class in particular that the abuse of the protection system prevails to an alarming extent.

There are in Syria few or none of that troublesome class of Europeans that so infest Constantinople, Smyrna, and Alexandria. I allude to political and other refugees: these find no occupation or encouragement in Syria, where there are no established gambling-houses, or other dens to which they can resort.

To be classed as a European merchant in Syria, requires no very great outlay of capital; take, for example, the following instance:—

Messrs. A--- and Co., a wealthy English firm, established at Beyrout or elsewhere, receive annually from three to four thousand bales of British manufactured goods, and they ship goods to an equally large amount. They necessarily require the services of not only household servants, but cashiers, native writers, and warehousemen. These men are very properly admitted to the privilege of temporarily enjoying the protection of a British subject.

Perhaps the next-door neighbour to these gentlemen is a Mr. B--- who is also styled a merchant, because once, or perhaps twice in a twelvemonth, he goes through the form of receiving a solitary bale of goods; this bale, in all probability, being sent through his hands as a blind, by some wealthier relative, to impress the local authorities with an idea of his wealth, and to enable him to establish his claim to rank as a merchant. This man pretends to find occupation for as many people as the solid English house does, and every man in his employment, and under his protection (perhaps the cook only excepted) is a man of substance. It would be a problem hard to solve by any uninitiated traveller or stranger how to account for this; how this man who is notoriously poor, and whose miserable single bale of manufactures would barely counter-balance the expenditure of his household for a single week, can manage to support so vast a retinue, find occupation for so many people, and keep up such an appearance of state; but the secret lies in a nut-shell. In his case the master is the hireling of the servant. His warehouseman alone (who drives a thriving trade in the wealthiest bazaar) pays him perhaps, sixty pounds sterling per annum, to enjoy the privilege of European protection; so that at this rate, and as the list of protected is a long one, the Syro-European merchant is in the receipt of an excellent income; he keeps his horses and gives grand entertainments; but as far as conscience or honesty goes, these are two hard words not to be met with in his vocabulary.

This is infamous! But even this is a trifle in comparison to what is done by such as are invested with authority as consuls. These have a long list of protected, and the consular secretary, and consular interpreter has each his own peculiar protÉgÉes; and so the number goes on gradually downwards, until we arrive at the consular cawass; and even he can boast of one or more on his list! Thus, in lieu of a consul only protecting a dozen or fourteen individuals (which is about treble the number he is, strictly speaking, allowed), he in fact is the indirect means of affording protection to many scores of individuals; each of whom is a dead loss to the treasury of the local government, and a burthen to his poorer and less fortunate brethren; and this because the exact amount of any given tax to be collected being beforehand fixed by the government, the Nazirs and Sheikhs allot to each man of the village his own portion; and what should have fallen on the shoulders of the exempted or protected man, is obliged to be made good by those persons who are subjected to the tax.

But this is not all: the subordinate officers in some of the European Consulates are guilty of equally gross offences. The consuls are apt to be wheedled over by the cunning dragoman or chancellor, so completely, that at last they place a blind and implicit faith in their every word or suggestion, and will on no consideration listen to complaints often too justly founded against these upstart Jacks in office.

An instance of this occurred to myself; but I will, from delicacy to the high official functionary mixed up with it, omit names of places and persons. A native Prince was anxious to call upon one of the authorities, but being unacquainted with the English language, he desired me to accompany him; not but that the authority in question was furnished with an interpreter, but simply, because the Prince wished, for privacy’s sake, that the matter of conversation should be confined to ourselves, without any prying ears being witness to the interview. Arriving at the office, we were shown in; but the interpreter ushering the Prince into one apartment, showed me into another. I was quite amazed at this strange proceeding; but as the dragoman immediately left the room, I could only conjecture that it was some sly trick of his own, or a wish to be possessed of information regarding the Prince. Whichever motive it might have been, the visit terminated without my seeing the official. On a subsequent occasion, however, I alluded to the matter; the dragoman was taxed with it but stoutly denied having done anything of the kind, declaring that I of my own accord had gone into another room. I brought the Prince’s testimony to prove how the man had slighted me; but notwithstanding all this, that lying interpreter had gained such influence with this high official, that our testimony was discarded, and he was believed.

After this long digression from the subject, for which I beg the reader’s kind forgiveness, I now resume the thread of my narrative.

The staple produce of Lattakia is wheat, silk, and tobacco; [97] of these, the latter is considered to be the finest and most odoriferous in the world; and the aboo reah, though many attempts have been made to introduce it into other parts of Syria, will grow nowhere else save at Jabaliy, a small seaport town about three hours to the southward of Lattakia, and where one of the Sultans who had abdicated his throne and withdrawn himself from the world, built a magnificent mosque, and some other public edifices, the ruins of many of which are still to be seen, and which render “Sultan Ibrahim,” as Jabaliy is from these circumstances styled, an object of interest to travellers.

Whilst at Lattakia a messenger arrived with dispatches, summoning us to Beyrout. On our arrival there, we found the combined Austrian, Turkish, and English fleets anchored before the town, to compel the Egyptians to evacuate Syria, and at the invitation of my friend, Ahmed Bey, I paid him a visit on board of the Turkish Admiral’s vessel, who despatched me on a secret mission to the mountains; whilst there I was filled with consternation by hearing a report that Ibrahim Pasha, having obtained intelligence of my movements, had set a price upon my head. I immediately burnt all my papers, changed my dress, and travelled in disguise of a beggar, expecting every moment to be recognised and beheaded. At last I reached a village called Arrayah, near the road to Damascus; here I had some relations, and I immediately went to them for shelter.

After I had been there a few days, the news of it reached the governor, and he immediately sent two cawass to arrest me; but the servant of my friend, having received information that I was being pursued, hid me in the harem apartments, which are accessible to none but the head of the family, a priest, or a physician; here I was secreted, and on their arrival, they even sent in a priest to the harem to ascertain if I was there; but the vigilance of my protectors evaded them even in this, and I was let down from the window in a basket into the garden, from whence I escaped to a cave close by till midnight; I then made my way back to my relations, who told me of the close search the cawass had made, and the disappointment they experienced at not finding me.

A few days after this an English traveller passed through the place, and understanding a little of his language, I offered my services to accompany him to Beyrout, under the title of turjaman; and according to the laws of Turkey, I no sooner joined him than I was under British protection. By this means I reached Beyrout in safety; and finding that the Capitan Pasha had gone to Acre, I joined the English forces, and then, for the first time in my life, witnessed the consummate skill and accuracy with which the troops carried on the warfare.

Nothing could have been more ingenious than the plan of attack. The Turkish troops, arriving in steamers and vessels of war, were during the night, with the utmost precaution, transhipped to the British vessel; and next morning, those vessels, supposed by the forces on shore to carry troops, were towed down by the “Geyser” and other steamers towards Ras-Beyrout, which occasioned the whole of the Egyptian forces to evacuate the town, and take up a strong position in that neighbourhood. When the steamers perceived this, they altered their course and proceeded to Dog River. Here a few Albanians had been stationed to oppose them. These were mown down by the heavy batteries of the frigates, who landed their troops and took unmolested possession of the place. Soon after they were joined by Beschir Kasir, with a body of men from the mountains, whom the English commandant supplied with arms, etc. And thus the victory was won.

I remained with the army several weeks, and assisted in the operations against the Egyptians; and after the conclusion of peace, accompanied an English officer and a numerous body of attendants to Tripoli, or as we call it, Trablous, the beautiful orange garden of the world. People talk so much about St. Michael oranges; for my part, I have never seen any orange in the world whose flavour and scent could equal that of Trablous; besides which, they are so plentiful and cheap, that although all the sea-coasts, and the interior of Syria and Palestine, and even parts of Asia Minor, are supplied with boat-loads and camel-loads of oranges from Tripoli, there is still abundance left to cause them to be a cheap as well as a delicious luxury. Our duty here, as elsewhere, was to see that the people of the place and the neighbourhood were well governed—to hear complaints and bring them in a proper form before the local authorities, to the end that injured parties might obtain redress—and to enquire into and make notes of everything that occurred.

The natives had christened my friend “Abu Rish,” which being literally translated, means “the father of a feather”; they gave him this name because he always sported a large feather in his cocked hat, which was seldom set aside in his journeyings. I have no doubt but that many of the ignorant and half wild natives of some of the villages that we passed through looked upon this hat and feathers in something the same light as the native of the savage island regarded that of Captain Cook, considering it to be a very strangely formed head, an abnormal amalgamation of the cock with the man.

We were lodged at Tripoli, with the Signor Catsoflis, the British vice-consul, at whose house we experienced much hospitality. Signor Catsoflis and his brother, the Austrian vice-consul, are twins; and so strong is the resemblance between them, that it is barely possible for a stranger to distinguish the one from the other when apart. The wife of Signor Catsoflis, the Austrian vice-consul, is the sister of Signor Elias, the vice consul at Lattakia. I never before, or since, have set eyes on any woman that could rival her in beauty, and her disposition was as sweet as her face was lovely. This lady made a complaint to me on behalf of a fellow Christian, a poor peasant from the mountains, who accustomed to rove about free, and in such dress as his fancy dictated, amongst his own villagers, unwittingly made his appearance in the streets of Tripoli, dressed in a light robe of a greenish colour, which excited the wrath and indignation of some fanatics, who, saying that none but descendants from the prophet could be permitted to wear any colour approaching to green, tore the garment from the poor fellow’s back, beat and otherwise shamefully ill-treated him; this was the instance of the complaint. “And now,” said the fair advocate, addressing herself to me, “let me see if you and your friend are really possessed of such influence and authority as you vaunt yourselves of, by causing the wrongs of this poor unoffending man to be redressed.” If anything could have spurred me to the deed, it was certainly being thus taunted by one of the handsomest women in the world. I immediately agreed to comply with her wishes, and, girding on my sword, took the Cawass, and proceeded direct to Yusuf Pasha. Before going, however, I had donned a pair of Wellington boots that a European friend had lent me; and the brilliant emerald green of whose tops must have inspired the gaping Moslems in the streets with the utmost envy and rage.

I entered into the presence of the governor without even announcing myself, an abrupt proceeding which not a little disconcerted His Excellency, who began anxiously to question me, hoping that I was the bearer of good, not of unfavourable, news. I stated the case to the governor, and he replied very civilly, that he regretted that it did not come within his jurisdiction, being purely a question of creed. The Cadi, however, being summoned to the divan, tried to shuffle out of the matter as best he could; he said it was decidedly against the law of the prophet, and that the aggressor merited the punishment. I asked him whether this law was intended to bear only upon certain individuals, or upon all. The Cadi replied, upon all; then, said I, if such be the case, you had better take me and give me a bastinadoing, for as you see, pointing to my boots, nothing can be a brighter green than those are; this completely confounded the Cadi. I insisted on having the men bastinadoed on the very spot where the outrage had been committed; the consequence was, that after some little demur, I carried the day, and they were punished as I had directed. This event occasioned immense sensation amongst the inhabitants, and impressed them with a due notion of the influence and power of the British nation, tending to keep the more fanatical within bounds, since no rank, or grade, or riches could protect them from punishment if they once gave offence to Europeans.

After remaining some time at Tripoli, we proceeded to visit the famous cedars of Lebanon. There are at present eleven of these celebrated trees, seven of which are supposed to have existed from the time of the building of Solomon’s temple. I need scarcely inform my readers how conspicuously these trees have figured in Scriptural metaphors. The prophet Ezekiel speaks in glowing terms of their beauty. Again, Isaiah seems in a remarkable manner to predict their extinction, “The rest of the trees of this forest shall be few that a child may write them.” How literally has this prophecy been fulfilled!

On my last visit to Syria I found the priest, to whom the charge of these trees is committed, had planted a number of seedlings, though with what success I have not yet heard. A church has also been built on the spot. The Arabs believe they were planted by the hands of the Almighty himself, and there are innumerable traditions connected with these trees, which I hope to give an account of in a future work. One of these cedars is of so great a diameter, that a monk actually hollowed it out and formed a sort of room in which he took up his abode. The trunks are covered with names of travellers, many of a very old date cut out with the knife.

From the cedars we proceeded to the wonderful ruins of Baalbec; but these have been often described by various travellers. After a beautiful journey of two days over verdant hills and down deep ravines, we reached Damascus, where I was pleased beyond measure to meet my connexions and acquaintances. At this time several European officers were travelling over Syria in all directions on diplomatic missions. These endeavoured to ascertain the exact capabilities of every town and village, as regards the number of men that could bear arms; the number of cattle, horses, etc.; the arms and quantity of ammunition, and the proportion that the Moslem population bore to the Christians. Of these gallant officers, one was sent to Damascus, and whilst residing there, he was very much captivated by the beauty of the Moslem ladies. On first arriving, this gentleman was well received by the grey-bearded authorities; but he soon lost caste; reports and complaints were of every-day occurrence; this white stranger would persist in making love to the Moslem ladies, and the Moslem girls would persist in making love to him. This was a dreadful state of affairs; but this was not all, for even the old Armenian patriarch was roused into wrath by discovering that a timid little Armenian girl was actually head over ears in love with the feather-crowned stranger, or rather with his money. There was no standing this. The people said it was a crying shame, and reported it to the Cadi, who complained to Nedjid Pasha; and the Pasha, who was one of the old school, and a right down Frank hater, complained to the Commander-in-Chief of the forces at Beyrout. The Commander-in-Chief sent several officers up to Damascus to investigate the case, which was tried in open divan before the Pasha, who summoned such as had charges against the gallant officer to appear before him. The charges brought against him were twofold. First, that he had endeavoured to subvert the minds of the people from rendering due homage to Ottoman authority, by asking them such significant questions as, for instance, If the English or the French were to lay siege to the country, with which of the powers would you side? The second charge was, the heinous offence of making love to some score of Turkish damsels, besides the Armenian lady in question. The first charge was thrown out as frivolous, absurd, and annoying; the second was fully proved.

I acted as turjaman Bashi to the Court of enquiry, and from the circumstance of the gentleman being in a foreign land, I was naturally disposed to lean rather to the side of the European. The Mahommedans observed this, and were very spiteful against me. The result of all this was, that the military gentleman was advised to leave Damascus; but he, availing himself of a moonless night, put a termination to the whole affair, by starting off for the sea-coast, carrying away with him a fair, young widow, who had captured his heart by her dancing, and to whom he was ultimately married; and, for aught I know to the contrary, they are to this day a very loving and happy couple. Strange to say, neither understood a word of each other’s language, and it would appear, from this example, that words are not necessary where such expressive things as eyes and flowers are brought into play.

This romantic lady, after a lapse of time, settled at Beyrout, together with her affectionate husband; the story had preceded them to this place, but they soon mixed in society as though nothing had happened. The Syrians, though strictly moral, mingle humanity with their laws of etiquette; they do not, as in England, for ever exclude from society such as have been guilty of so trivial a peccadillo as this lady was guilty of. They remember that all are but frail mortals and apt to err.

To me the English appear to be over severe. It is true, that in Turkey the Moslems are entitled to four wives, and that in England a man can only marry one; but I should like to know who is the greater delinquent, he that avowedly and opening admits of polygamy, or that man, who, as is often the case amongst society in England, and indeed all Europe, vowing solemnly at the altar that “forsaking all others he will keep only with her,” marries one wife, and at the same time continues to associate with half a dozen other women? For my part, whenever I hear of an English lady eloping, I cannot help fearing that she has been driven to it by the inconstancy or neglect of a wicked husband.

In Damascus, at the period I am writing of, there dwelt an extraordinary man, well known to the English who visited the place as the proprietor of a large hotel, by the name of Sayed Ali; he also filled the office of chancellor to the English consulate. This extraordinary character could speak and write several languages with the utmost fluency, and no one could fathom out what countryman he was, or what creed he professed. With the English he was an Englishman, and none could doubt his pronunciation. This was the case with the French; whilst the Turks, listening in admiration to his high flow of Stamboline Turkish, and his profound knowledge of the Koran, ranked him amongst the most devout and most learned of their citizens. One thing only was positive with regard to Sayed Ali, and that was, that his wife was a Moslem, the daughter of some fanatical Sheikh. Sayed’s wife had an extremely handsome sister; who having been seen but once, had captivated the heart of an old English official, who at that time resided at Damascus; and this gentleman, notwithstanding the great disparity between them in every respect, in age, rank and creed, determined, cost what it might, to marry the girl. Female friends were employed as go-betweens, and these so effectually wrought upon the imagination of the fair lady, that she actually resolved to embrace Christianity, and fly for succour to the arms of her lover. Things had arrived at this pitch, when Sayed Ali accidentally got scent of what was going on; he subsequently declared to me, that had it not been for the high official position of the gentleman in question, he certainly would have shot him; as it was, he contented himself with calling at his sister-in-law’s house, and knocking at the door drew his sword; the girl responding to the knock, opened the door, when the infuriated Sayed Ali made a murderous attack upon her, and inflicted a wound on her shoulder, a repetition of which must have proved fatal. As this happened during the day, the noise attracted a crowd around the house, and the girl was rescued. Rendered desperate by this, Sayed Ali made a plunge at himself, and inflicted a wound in his abdomen of nearly an inch deep; not, however, relishing the sensation, the monster drew out his sword, and calling lustily for aid was forthwith carried away to his own house. Here he was attended by the English medical officers then at Damascus. I shortly after called to see him, and to inquire into the cause of this murderous onslaught. In reply, he told me that his motives were what I have already stated; he was determined that his name should not be defamed, or his wife’s family put to shame by the act of a thoughtless, capricious child, winding up, however, with—

“I’m glad I have not killed her, and for my part I’ll never be such a fool again as to stab myself to please any one in Damascus.”

The doctor dressed the wounds, and both shortly afterwards recovered, whilst the greatest delinquent in the affair suffered neither pain or inconvenience from his gross misconduct. He is now in high office under the government at Constantinople. This is a fair sample of the abuses practised by many of those in authority, who in lieu of holding out a pattern for imitation, both by example and precept, are unfortunately too prone to indulge their own vicious propensities, setting all propriety, honour, and justice at defiance. I do not mean to say that all incline in the same way—that all are addicted to falling desperately in love with every girl they meet; but this I assert, with very few exceptions, they have their peculiar fancies, for the gratification of which they stoop to many acts of meanness. In illustration of what I say, I may be permitted to quote one more instance,—a case widely different from the foregoing, and yet equally offensive to honourable minds.

“One man, a sycophant, partly to curry favour with a great man whom he wished to oblige, partly to satisfy his avaricious propensities, delayed a steam packet twenty-four hours beyond its fixed time of departure, because the vessel chanced to sail upon a Saturday, and the great man in question was a Jew; he detained the steamer till Sunday morning to accommodate the fastidious Hebrew, and to profit by his commission on the lordly passage money.

“Now this man is professedly a Christian, but he prefers breaking the Christian’s sabbath to inconveniencing his friend or his pocket; but apart from all this, we have still to calculate the losses arising from the expenses incurred by such a vessel lying unnecessarily idle—the risk of insurance, and the loss of time to money, cargo, and letters.” [107]

But let us turn to a more pleasing subject. In these latter days of progression and civilisation, Damascus happily has kept pace with the other towns in Syria; there has been a large influx of European merchants. The Greek patriarch has, in the true spirit of civilization, and after great exertions, established a school which will be productive of much good.

From Damascus we went down to Sidon, visiting, en route, the residence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope, at Djouni, which was even then fast falling to decay. Lady Hester I had known personally, and although clever and eccentric, with a head full of strange fancies, yet she had a heart not devoid of good feeling and kind intentions. For my part, I can always recollect, with grateful pleasure, the kind reception I met with at her house, and if there is any thing which I consider base, it is the conduct of her biographer (who was also her physician), and who has abused a sacred trust to pander to the inquisitiveness of the European world; or else to contribute to the depth and weight of his own purse, has raked up the ashes of one, who at least towards himself, was the best of friends and patronesses; and whether the book contains much of truth or much of imagination, it is either a breach of confidence of the very worst order, or a libel on the dead which there is none to controvert or dispute.

At Sidon there, at that time, resided General Loustannau, whose life abounded more in romantic incidents than all the novels of our most celebrated writers. In India he had served under a native Prince with such courage and distinction, and through so long a period of years that he had amassed an immense fortune. He was at the time of my visit a half-witted mendicant, one of the many objects of the late Lady Hester Stanhope’s benevolence, and one who, like herself, was subject to many extravagant eccentricities. The story of Loustannau is so remarkable that I cannot refrain from quoting part of it from Mr. Kelly’s work on Syria:

“General Loustannau was a native of Aidens, in the department of Basses PyrÉnÉes; his family was not wealthy, and his youthful ardour impelled him to seek his fortune in foreign lands. Arriving at Bordeaux for the purpose of embarking for America, he found a vessel about to sail for India with M. de Saint Lubin, who was commissioned by Louis XVI. to propose to the Mahrattas a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, against the English. Loustannau took advantage of the opportunity, gave up his American project, and in due time found himself amongst the Mahrattas. This was in the year 1778, when he was twenty years of age. War had for some time existed between the Mahrattas and the English, and Loustannau, who wished to take service with the former, obtained a letter of recommendation to M. Norogue, a Portuguese officer, who commanded their forces. That General received him very courteously, but thought him too young to be entrusted with any command. Loustannau, however, accompanied the army in its movements, and was witness to the continual advantages afforded the English by the unskilfulness of General Norogue. The Mahrattas, though thrice outnumbering their enemies, were constantly forced to yield their ground; at last the prince succeeded in bringing the English to an engagement in a position unfavourable to the latter, inasmuch as it allowed of their being out-flanked by the superior number of their adversaries. But this did not avail them; the English entrenched themselves on an eminence from which their batteries committed great havoc among the Mahrattas. Loustannau observing a height which commanded the English position, immediately mentioned the fact to Norogue, who received this communication with supercilious indifference. Stung to the quick by this contemptuous treatment, Loustannau addressed himself to a Mahratta chief through an interpreter, and with the reckless enthusiasm of youth, pledged his head that he would be successful if he were given the command of a few pieces of cannon. Three thousand horse and ten guns were placed under his orders; the result surpassed his hopes, and the English were driven from their position with great loss. In spite of Norogue’s jealousy, a choncadar with a gold stick was soon sent in quest of the young Frenchman, who had rendered such essential service to the national cause. Loustannau was presented to the chiefs who exercised the regency, and received a magnificent present. He remained in the service of the Mahrattas, and soon had a corps of 2000 men under his exclusive command. He took part in all the subsequent operations against the English, and was mainly instrumental in inflicting upon them those losses which for a while seemed to place our Indian empire in such imminent jeopardy.

“At the battle of Chassepachrer, he routed our seapoys with great slaughter; the battle was ended, the English artillery alone continued to fire a few volleys in its retreat, in order to protect the fugitives, when a grape-shot struck Loustannau in the left hand and carried off the four fingers and half the thumb. It was long before he recovered from the effects of this wound. When the stump was healed, he had a silver hand of very ingenious workmanship fitted to it. The first day he appeared at the head of his troops with this new kind of hand, a priest threw himself prostrate before his horse’s feet, crying out, that the ‘prophecy was fulfilled, since it was written in the temple of the God Siva, that the Mahrattas were to reach the summit of their glory under a man from the far west, who should have a silver hand, and prove invincible.’

“Loustannau was thenceforth looked upon as something almost superhuman. Diamonds, precious stones, the richest presents of every kind, were lavished on him from all sides. He was assigned a magnificent palace, with all the appurtenances of royal luxury. His stables contained thirty elephants sumptuously caparisoned, and a hundred and fifty horses, the best that India could produce. His body-guard consisted of 2000 men, with four pieces of cannon; and the principal chief had two colossal silver hands planted before the entrance of the palace that all men might know, by that token, that the man of destiny was the leader of the national forces.

“Another campaign took place, in which Loustannau was again successful, and which terminated greatly to the satisfaction of the Mahrattas. On his return to Azra, he was received with honours such as were used to be conferred only on princes and sultans; and the ruling prince solemnly declared him ‘The Lion of the State and the Tiger in War.’

“Loustannau married the daughter of a French officer in India; he had now been eighteen years among the Mahrattas; he had several children, and his wife urged him to return to Europe to enjoy the fruits of his toils.

“Notwithstanding his excessive generosity, the wealth he had accumulated was enormous; but, from the moment he quitted the territory of the Mahrattas, fortune, which till then had been so lavish to him of her favours, forsook him all at once, and the rest of his life was but one series of disasters and sorrows. He converted his whole fortune into paper, for he had not yet made up his mind where he would settle, and he did not wish to purchase any estates before his arrival. His homeward voyage was long and difficult; and he was several times in danger of shipwreck. When, at last, after a seven-month’s passage, he reached France, the assignats had fallen into such utter depreciation, that he found the 8,000,000 of francs he had remitted home dwindled down to 220,000. This first blow made a terrible impression on a temper so violent as his, and so spoiled by prosperity; but he still possessed a considerable amount in diamonds, some of which he sold, and with the proceeds he settled in Tarbes with his family, consisting of two sons and three daughters. Shortly afterwards, he lost his favourite son, and his grief was such as to occasion him an attack of insanity, from which he did not completely recover for two years. When he was restored to his senses, he set about constructing extensive iron works on the frontiers of Spain, in order to afford his restless energies an object on which to employ themselves. For three years, his sole pleasure consisted in superintending his engineers and workmen, and watching the progress of the great constructions he planned.

“Things were in this state when fresh misfortunes befell him. He was on the point of realising the profits of his enterprise, when war broke out between France and Spain. Immediately upon the first disasters of the French arms, his buildings were burned, his furnaces destroyed, and his hopes annihilated. The ruin of his fortune was almost complete, and he only supported himself by selling, one by one, the costly jewels he had brought from India. All these misfortunes impaired his reason; he had continued fits of overwrought devotion, amounting at times to insanity. His family lived on in this way until 1815, in a state of mediocrity very hard to endure after their brilliant condition and their opulence in past years.

“In 1815, Loustannau’s only surviving son, who was a captain in the imperial guards, was dangerously wounded at Waterloo. His father saw himself on the point of losing him, and this shock seemed to restore to him the possession of his faculties. When he recovered, all the revived energies of his character were concentrated on the thought, how destitute would be the state of his family after his death; he determined, therefore to return to India, though many years had elapsed since he left it. His son wished to go in his stead, but he would not hear of this; and in 1816 he embarked for Egypt, having raised the necessary funds for his journey by pledging a ruby of rare value, the last gift of his Mahratta patron. Not finding in Egypt an opportunity of pursuing his way by the Red Sea, he crossed over to Syria, with the intention of joining the caravan from Damascus to Bassorah; but he fell dangerously ill at Acre, his brain being again affected; he squandered away all his money in his delirium, and destroyed bills of exchange and other valuable papers. After this, he suffered for awhile all the horrors of penury, and the renowned Loustannau—’The Lion of the State and the Tiger in War’—was reduced to earn his bread as a day-labourer. In this deplorable condition he was found by M. Catafago, a wealthy Levantine merchant, who relieved his wants and took him into his house.

“Loustannau had occasionally lucid intervals, in which he talked of his past greatness, and related the history of his life and his afflictions; but he had the mortification of seeing that everything he uttered seemed to his hearers but an additional proof of his insanity. To make all sure, however, letters were written to France, requesting information respecting this extraordinary man; and at last his son, who had heard nothing of him for two years, made all haste to Syria, and found his unfortunate father almost wholly deprived of reason. His journey to India was henceforth clearly impossible. The Captain had gathered together the last remnants of his fortune; and he remained for some time in Syria, doing everything that affection could suggest, in the hope of restoring his father to himself.

“It was at this period that the old man’s melancholy story reached the ears of Lady Hester Stanhope. She was then in the hey-day of her fame, and she offered Loustannau and his son an asylum in her house. At the first sight of the latter, she was struck with the resemblance that he bore to the gallant lover she had lost. From the lines of his hand, the form of his foot, and the aspect of the stars, she gathered that the life of Captain Loustannau was destined to be inseparably connected with her own. The Captain, however, had not lost sight of his Indian project, for he still hoped to recover some remains of the vast property his father must have left in that country. Lady Hester dissuaded him from going to India, and undertook to employ every possible means of recovering what remained of the old General’s property or fortune; but great changes had occurred since the old man had left the country. Wellesley’s (Wellington) victories had put the English in possession of a great portion of the Mahratta territory; Loustannau’s princely protectors were no more, and his property had passed into other hands.

“It was a singular chance that brought together in a corner of Syria two beings so remarkable as General Loustannau and Lady Hester Stanhope; they had long, mystical conversations together, and Lady Hester looked on Loustannau as a prophet who was come to prepare the way for her, and to be the forerunner of her triumph. The Captain sought to beguile the tedium of his existence by managing the household and the pecuniary affairs of Lady Hester. She treated him with the most assiduous kindness until his death, which happened, I believe, in 1825. Her feelings towards him were those of pure friendship, tinged by the memory of her youthful affections and stimulated by the fantastic notion that a secret bond irrevocably united his destiny with her own. After his death, she had him buried in her garden, and twice every day she visited his grave, decorated it with flowers, and remained by it absorbed in long reveries.

“General Loustannau’s insanity became more intense after his son’s death, his delusions being greatly augmented by his intercourse with Lady Hester Stanhope. Celestial music floated round him; for a while he believed himself called to give battle to Bonaparte, who, he said, had returned to the earth under the form of Antichrist; and in 1831 he declared it his destiny to become king of Jerusalem when the fulness of time should have been accomplished. He had now warm altercations with Lady Hester; for he asserted his right to the bay mare with the natural saddle, whilst her ladyship was to have the white mare, and to ride with him into the Holy City as his wife, her place being at his left-hand and a little behind him.

“Her ladyship very soon saw it written in the stars that Loustannau and herself were to part. Accordingly she had a house fitted up for his reception at Abra, a village within five miles of her own residence, on the road to Sidon. But she continued her benevolent protection towards him, and did not let him want for anything requisite for his comfort.

“Lady Hester died in June, 1839, a few days before the battle of Neizeb, which she had foretold with rather surprising accuracy. Her wealth was all gone. She even left considerable debts, and her property was instantly seized by her creditors. Loustannau being thus once more reduced to entire destitution, the French consul of Sidon took charge of him, and gave him a humble lodging in the French khan. Thus this venerable old man, who had once possessed immense wealth, commanded great armies, and enriched multitudes of Europeans, now subsisted on charity. It has long been generally supposed that he was dead, as asserted by M. Jouay. He is dead, it is true, to all purposes of active life, but he has still a few lucid intervals in the midst of his harmless religious insanity. Happily for him, he has almost wholly lost his memory, and of all his past greatness he recollects nothing distinctly except the title he bore in India. Often does he proudly repeat that they called him formerly ‘The Lion of the State and the Tiger in War;’ and then, sadly reverting to his present condition, he subjoins, ‘And now I am nothing but an unfortunate beggar.’”

Such is the admirable account given by Mr. Kelly of this singular individual, who passed through all the stages from happiness and affluence to misery and destitution. Loustannau is now dead, not only to purposes of active life, but dead in the literal sense of the word, and his bones repose in the European cemetery at Sidon; the life of this man and the site of his troubles affording a fresh incentive for strangers to visit Sidon, in addition to its ancient fame as a city of the days of Solomon.

Sidon is perhaps the most delightfully situated town in all Palestine. Abounding with pleasant gardens, and rides and walks; the climate is healthy, and the commerce of the place is rising into importance, and the harbour capable of great improvement. In May, 1851, the families of two American missionaries established themselves in this neighbourhood, and already the schools and the works of the mission are prospering.

From Sidon we visited Tyre!—poor, solitary, desolate Tyre—in whose meagre forsaken town and bare rugged rocks, we had manifest proof of the never-failing veracity of Scripture prophecy. How else would the once greatest city of the earth, whose ships visited all parts, whose merchants had a world-wide reputation, be now an utter desolation, inhabited only by a few traders and wretched fishermen and their families, whose daily occupation of spreading out the nets to dry are so many consecutive proofs of the fulfilment of the words of the prophet. But so many modern travellers have described these parts, that it would be useless for me to dwell upon the subject in this work: so we quitted Sur, the modern Tyre; and a night’s pleasant sail in a small shaktoor brought us to Acre. St. Jean d’Acre was at this period still suffering much from the explosion of the powder magazine, which so much assisted Admiral Napier in his siege; the houses were all tottering ruins, the mosques minus their minarets, and the stench from the accumulated mass of decomposed matter, the carcases of camels, sheep and oxen, and in some places the sun-bleached bones of unhappy beings, in the twinkling of an eye as it were hurried into eternity; these were a loathsome and melancholy spectacle.

I may here state, that I was present at the bombardment of Acre, and from a favourable situation witnessed the terrific result of the “Geyser” bombshells, which were thrown with such unerring certainty, that, knowing the position of the powder-magazine, they fired upon it with so nice an aim, that each succeeding shell struck upon the last in such a manner that the first thrown was thus forced through the wall, and occasioned the explosion; but I may further state what is yet a hidden mystery to the British public, and which in a great measure accounts for the facility with which this almost impregnable fortress was captured, and that is, that the Imams and the Cadi of Acre secretly warned the soldiery not to resist the arms of the British force there assembled, because they were fighting for the Sultan, whom it was their duty, as Mahomedans, to obey; and, moreover, that in the sight of God and the prophet, there was no other lawful Moslem king; none to be acknowledged, save the Sultan of the Sublime Porte, Abdul Medjid; and that if they acted against his interests, then the Prophet would utterly forsake them, and such as fell in battle might fully make up their minds to be hurled into eternal perdition, and that such as fought in his favour would assuredly go to heaven. Such an exhortation and threat, at such a peculiar time, was sure to have the desired effect. [119]

Not only did the soldiers fight without spirit, but many of the artillery actually spiked their guns. Of this latter fact I myself had ocular demonstration when the engagement was over, and the allied forces landed at Acre. After this fact, it becomes not the English admiral to boast too much and compare his success with the failure of Napoleon.

From Acre, still journeying southward, we passed the famous brook Kedron, so often alluded to in Holy Writ, and passing through the miserable village of Kaipha, ascended Mount Carmel, and sojourned a couple of days in the hospitable convent of the Carmelite monks. Leaving Carmel, we passed through CÆsarea, now an utter desolation, and visited Jaffa and Gaza, and from the latter place, striking inland, took in succession Hebron, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, the Dead Sea and the Jordan, besides visiting all the other towns of any note or importance, all of which have been often described by European travellers, so that the best thing I can do is to avoid repetition, and content myself with observing, that the reality far exceeded my expectations as regards the beauty of the scenery and the wild picturesque position of almost every town of note in Palestine. At the same time I deem it most essential to warn the English travellers to be very careful in the choice of a guide-book, as many, even up to a very late date, have been published with apparently no other aim than to puff up the author’s vanity, containing mostly a tissue of unaccountable misrepresentations from first to last. If the traveller, in a spirit of knight-errantry, goes forth to visit the holy shores of Palestine and Syria, hoping there to bask under the bright light of large sunny-loving eyes—if he thinks to lead the Arab maid captive by the heart—to win over the smiles of the Grecian, or scampering over desolate mountains—to fall in with untutored Syrian maids, who sally forth and carry him from his horse, fatigued and fever-smitten, to be watched over and cared for by female philanthropists,—if, I say, the traveller quits England with any such notions, he will return to these shores grievously disappointed.

Although myself a native of the country, dressed in the costume, and speaking the language, still, with all these advantages, the maidens always fled at our approach, not even if they mastered their coyness, would they ever exchange a syllable with us strangers. Possibly, my friend and myself were not possessed of that charm which a recent gallant author, according to his own account, seems to have carried about with him wherever he went; for he says, that in many parts fathers of families rushed out and endeavoured to force him into a marriage with their daughters, or else the maidens themselves, in villages he had never before visited, came forth, having heard of his notoriety (this in parts where there is no post, and where news travels at the rate of a mile a week), to meet him with timbrel and dance, and other welcomings. The only note that ever welcomed us to such villages, was the angry tongue of a scolding harridan, or else the hooting of the owls, or the cry of the jackal.