  AT EASTER, A.D. 1697. BY HENRY MAUNDRELL. TO THE RIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD,
There being several gentlemen of our nation (fourteen in number) determined for a visit to the Holy Land at the approaching Easter, I resolved, though but newly come to Aleppo, to make one in the same design, considering that, as it was my purpose to undertake this pilgrimage some time or other before my return to England, so I could never do it either with less prejudice to my cure Pursuant to this resolution, we set out from Aleppo, Friday, February 26th, 1696 (i. e. Feb. 1697), at three in the afternoon, intending to make only a short step that evening, in order to prove how well we were provided with necessaries for our journey. Our quarters, this first night, we took up at the Honey-khan, a place of but indifferent accommodation, about one hour and a half west of Aleppo. It must here be noted that, in travelling this country, a man does not meet with a market-town and inns every night, as in England. The best reception you can find here is either under your own tent, if the season permit; or else in certain public lodgments, founded in charity for the use of travellers. These are called by the Turks khani; and are seated sometimes in the towns and villages, sometimes at convenient distances upon the open road. They are built in fashion of a cloister, encompassing a court of thirty or forty yards square, more or less, according to the measure of the Feb. 27.—From the Honey-khan we parted very early the next morning, and, proceeding westerly as the day before, arrived in one hour and a half at Oo-rem (Ur-im), an old village affording nothing remarkable but the ruins of a small church. From Oo-rem we came, in half an hour, to Kaffre; and in three quarters more to Essoyn (Es-aÏn). iAt this last place we entered into the plains of Kefteen (Kaftin), proceeding in which, we came, in one hour, to another village called Legene; and in half an hour more, to Hozano; and in a good hour more, to Kefteen. Our whole stage this day was about five hours; our course a little southerly of the west. The plains of Kefteen are of a vast compass, extending to the southward beyond the reach of the eye, and in most places very fruitful and well cultivated. At our first descent into them, at Essoyn, we counted twenty-four villages, or places at a distance resembling villages, within our view from one station. The soil is of a reddish colour, very loose and hollow, and you see hardly a stone in it; whereas, on its west side, there runs along, for many miles together, a high ridge of hills, discovering nothing but vast naked rocks, without the least sign of mould or any useful production, which yields an appearance as if nature had, as it were, in kindness to the husbandman, purged the whole plain of these stones, and piled them all up together in that one mountain. Kefteen itself is a large, plentiful village, on the west side of the plain; and the adjacent villages, abounding with corn, give the inhabitants great advantages for breeding pigeons, insomuch that you find here more dove-cots than other houses. We saw at this place, over the door of a bagnio, a marble stone, carved with the sign of the cross, and the ???a ?at??, &c., with a date not legible. It was probably the portal of some church in ancient times; for I was assured by the inhabitants of the village that there are many ruins of churches and convents still to be seen in the neighbouring rocky mountains. Sunday, Feb. 28.—Having a long stage to go this day, we These caphars are certain duties which travellers are obliged to pay, at several passes upon the road, to officers, who attend in their appointed stations to receive them. They were at first levied by Christians, to yield a recompense to the country for maintaining the ways in good repair, and scouring them from Arabs and robbers. The Turks keep up so gainful an usage still, pretending the same causes for it; but, under that pretence, they take occasion to exact from passengers, especially Franks, arbitrary and unreasonable sums, and, instead of being a safeguard, prove the greatest rogues and robbers themselves. At a long hour beyond this caphar our road led us over the mountains on the west side of the valley of Rooge. We were near an hour in crossing them, after which we descended into another valley, running parallel to the former, and parted from it only by the last ridge of hills. At the first descent into this valley is a village called Bell-Maez Shoggle is a pretty large, but exceedingly filthy town, situated on the river Orontes, over which you pass by a bridge of thirteen small arches to come at the town. The river hereabouts is of a good breadth; and yet so rapid that it turns great wheels, made for lifting up the water, by its natural swiftness, without any force added to it by confining its stream. Its waters are turbid and very unwholesome, and its fish worse, as we found by experience, there being no person of all our company, that had eaten of them over night, but found himself much indisposed the next morning. We lodged here in a very handsome khan, far exceeding what is usually seen in this sort of buildings. It was founded by the second Kuper-li, and endowed with a competent revenue for supplying every traveller that takes up his quarters in it with a competent portion of bread, and broth, and flesh, which is always ready for those that demand it, as very few people of the country fail to do. There is annexed to the khan, on the west side, another quadrangle, containing apartments for a certain number of alms-men, the charitable donation of the same Kuper-li. The khan we found, at our arrival, crowded with a great number of Turkish hadgees, or pilgrims, bound for Mecca; but, nevertheless, we met with a peaceable reception amongst them, though our faces were set to a different place. March 1.—From Shoggle our road led us at first westerly, in order to our crossing the mountain on that side the valley. We arrived at the foot of the ascent in half an hour; but met with such rugged and foul ways in the mountains, that it took us upwards of two hours to get clear of them, after which we descended into a third valley, resembling the other two which we had passed before. At the first entrance into it is a village called Be-da-me, giving the same name also to the valley. Having travelled about two hours in this valley, we entered into a woody, mountainous country, which ends the pashalick of Aleppo and begins that of Tripoli. Our road here was very rocky and uneven; but yet the variety which it afforded made some amends for that inconvenience. Sometimes it led us under the cool shade of thick trees; sometimes through narrow valleys, watered with fresh, murmuring torrents; and then, for a good while together, upon the brink of a precipice; and in all places it treated us with the prospect of plants and flowers of divers kinds, as myrtles, oleanders, cyclamens, From hence, continuing our course through a road resembling that before described, we arrived, in one hour, at a small, even piece of ground, called Hadjar-il-Sultan, or the Sultan's Stone; and here we took up our quarters this night, under our tents. Our road, this day, pointed for the most part south-west; and the whole of our stage was about seven hours and a half. March 2.—We were glad to part very early this morning from our campagnia lodging, the weather being yet too moist and cold for such discipline. Continuing our journey through woods and mountains, as the day before, we arrived, in about one hour, at the caphar of Crusia (Krusiyeh), which is demanded near a khan of that name. A khan they call it, though it is, in truth, nothing else but a cold, comfortless ruin, on the top of a hill by the way-side. From hence, in about another hour, we arrived at the foot 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 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 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 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, ?a?d??e?a, 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 Above an hour from these tombs we came to another stream, which stopped our march again. These mountain rivers are ordinarily very inconsiderable, but they are apt to swell upon sudden rains, to the destruction of many a passenger, who will be so hardy as to venture unadvisedly over them. We took a more successful care at this place; for, marching about an hour higher up by the side of the stream, we found a place where the waters by dilating were become shallower, and there we got a safe passage to the other side. From hence we bent our course to recover our former road again; but we had not got far before there began a very violent storm of hail, followed by a hard and continued rain, which forced us to make the best of our way to Jebilee, leaving our baggage to follow us at leisure. Our whole stage this day was about six hours, pointing for the first hour west, and for the remaining part near south, having the sea on the right hand, and a ridge of mountains at about two hours' distance on the left. And in this state our road continued for several days after, without any difference, save only that the mountains at some places approach nearer the sea, at other, retire farther off. These mountains go under different names in several places, as they run along upon the coast, and are inhabited by rude people of several denominations. In that part of them above Jebilee, there dwell a people, called by the Turks Neceres March 5.—This whole day we spent at Jebilee, to recruit ourselves after our late fatigues; having the convenience of a new khan to lodge in, built at the north entrance into the city, by Ustan, the present pasha of Tripoli. Jebilee is seated close by the sea, having a vast and very fruitful plain stretching round about it, on its other sides. It makes a very mean figure at present; though it still retains the distinction of a city, and discovers evident footsteps of a better condition in former times. Its ancient name, from which also it derives its present, was Gabala, under which name it occurs in Strabo, and other old geographers. In the time of the Greek emperors, it was dignified with a bishop's see, in which sometimes sat Severian the grand adversary and arch-conspirator against St. Chrysostom. The most remarkable things that appear here at this day are a mosque, and an almshouse just by it, both built by sultan Ibrahim. In the former his body is deposited, and we were admitted to see his tomb, though held by the Turks in great veneration. We found it only a great wooden chest, erected over his grave, and covered with a carpet of painted calico, extending on all sides down to the ground. It was also tricked up with a great many long ropes of wooden beads hanging upon it, and somewhat resembling the furniture of a button-maker's shop. This is the usual way the Turks adorn the tombs of their holy men, as I have seen in several other instances; the long strings of beads passing in this country for marks of great devotion and gravity. In this mosque we saw several large incense pots, candlesticks for altars, and other church furniture, being the spoils of Christian churches at the taking of Cyprus. Close by the mosque is a very beautiful bagnio, and a small grove of orange-trees, under the shade of which travellers are wont to pitch their tents in the summer-time. The Turks that were our conductors into the mosque, entertained us with a long story of this sultan Ibrahim who lies there interred; especially touching his mortification, and renouncing the world. They reported that, having divested himself of his royalty, he retired hither, and lived twenty years in a grotto by the sea-side, dedicating himself wholly to From these Mahomedan sanctuaries, our guide pretended to carry us to a Christian church, about two furlongs out of the town on the south side. When we came to it, we found it nothing but a small grotto in a rock, by the sea-shore, open on the side towards the sea; and having a rude pile of stones erected in it for an altar. In our return from this poor chapel, we met with the person who was the curate of it. He told us that himself and some few other Christians of the Greek communion were wont to assemble in this humble cell for divine service, not being permitted to have any place of worship within the town. Jebilee seems to have had anciently some convenience for shipping. There is still to be seen a ridge composed of huge square stones running a little way into the sea, which appears But the most considerable antiquity in Jebilee, and the greatest monument of its former eminence, is the remains of a noble theatre just at the north gate of the city. It passes amongst the Turks for an old castle, which (according to the Asiatic way of enlarging) they report to have been of so prodigious a height, when in its perfect state, that a horseman might have rode, about sun-rising, a full hour in the shade of it. As for what remains of this mighty Babel, it is no more than twenty feet high. The flat side of it has been blown up with gunpowder by the Turks. And from hence (as they related) was taken a great quantity of marble, which we saw used in adorning their bagnio and mosque before mentioned. All of it that is now standing is the semicircle. It extends from corner to corner just a hundred yards. In this semicircular part is a range of seventeen round windows just above the ground, and between the windows all round were raised, on high pedestals, large massy pillars, standing as buttresses against the wall, both for the strength and ornament of the fabric; but these supporters are at present most of them broken down. Within is a very large arena; but the just measure of it could not be taken, by reason of the houses with which the Turks have almost filled it up. On the west side the seats of the spectators remain still entire, as likewise do the caves or vaults which run under the subsellia all round the theatre. The outward wall is three yards three quarters thick, and built of very large and firm stones, which great strength has preserved it thus long from the jaws of time, and from that general ruin which the Turks bring with them into most places where they come. March 6.—Having done with Jebilee, we put forward again early the next morning, with a prospect of much better weather than we had been attended with in our former motions. Our road continued by the sea-side, and in about two hours brought us to a fair deep river, called by the Turks Nahr-il-Melech, or the King's River. Here we saw some heaps of Leaving Baneas, we went on by the sea-side, and in about a quarter of an hour passed by an old castle, on the top of a very high mountain. It is built in the figure of an equilateral triangle, having one of its angles pointing towards the sea. The Turks call it Merchah At about one hour and a half distance from Baneas, we came to a small clear stream, which induced us to take up our lodging near it. We pitched in the campagnia about two or three furlongs up from the sea, having in sight on the mountains above us a village called Sophia, inhabited solely by Maronites; and a little farther Besack, another village possessed by Turks only; and a little farther Merakia, whose inhabitants are a miscellany of Christians and Turks together. Our whole stage, this day, was about six hours. Sunday, March 7.—From this quarter we removed early the next morning, and in three hours came to a fair deep river called Nahr Hussain, having an old bridge turned over it, consisting of only one arch, but that very large and exceedingly well wrought. In one hour and a half more, travelling still by the sea-side, we reached Tortosa. The ancient name of this place was Orthosia. It was a bishop's see in the province of Tyre. The writers of the holy wars make frequent mention of it, as a place of great strength. And one may venture to believe them, from what appears of it at this day. Its situation is on the sea-shore, having a spacious plain extending around about it on its other sides. What remains of it is the castle, which is very large and still inhabited. On one side it is washed by the sea; on the other, it is fortified by a double wall of coarse marble, built after the rustic manner. Between the two walls is a ditch, as likewise is another encompassing the outermost wall. You enter this fortress on the north side, over an old drawbridge, which lands you in a spacious room, now for the most part uncovered, but anciently well arched over, being the church belonging to the castle. On one side it resembles a church, and, in witness of its being such, shows at this day several holy emblems carved upon its walls, as that of a dove descending, over the place where stood the altar, and in another place that of the Holy Lamb. But, on the side which fronts outwards, it has the face of a castle, being built with port-holes for artillery, instead of windows. Round the castle on the south and east sides anciently stood the city. It had a good wall and ditch encompassing it, of which there are still to be seen considerable remains. But for other buildings, there is nothing now left in it, except a church, which stands about a furlong eastward from the castle. It is one hundred and thirty feet in length, in breadth From Tortosa we sent our baggage before us, with orders to advance a few miles farther toward Tripoli, to the intent that we might shorten our stage to that place the next day. We followed not long after, and in about a quarter of an hour came to a river, or rather the channel of a river, for it was almost dry, though questionless there must have been anciently no inconsiderable stream, as we might infer both from the largeness of the channel, and the fragments of a stone bridge formerly laid over it. In about half an hour more we came abreast of a small island, about a league distant from the shore, called by the Turks Ruad. This is supposed to be the ancient Arvad, Arphad, or Arpad (under which several names it occurs, 2 Kings, xix. 12; Gen. x. 18; Ezek. xxvii. 11, &c.), and the Aradus of the Greeks and Romans. It seemed to the eye to be not above two or three furlongs long, and was wholly filled up with tall buildings like castles. The ancient inhabitants of this island were famous for navigation, and had a command upon the continent as far as Gabala. About a quarter of an hour farther we came up with our muleteers, they having pitched our tents, before they had gone so far as we intended. But this miscarriage they well recompensed, by the condition of the place where they stopped, it affording us the entertainment of several notable antiquities, which we might otherwise perhaps have passed by unobserved. It was at a green plot lying within one hour of Tortosa, a little southward of Aradus, and about a quarter of a mile from the sea, having in it a good fountain (though of a bad name) called the Serpent Fountain. The first antiquity that we here observed was a large dyke, thirty yards over at top, cut in the solid rock. Its sides went sloping down, with stairs formed out of the natural rock, descending gradually from the top to the bottom. This dyke stretched in a direct line, east and west, more than a furlong, bearing still the same figure of stairs running in right lines This dyke was on the north side of the Serpent Fountain; and, just on the other side of it, we espied another antiquity, which took up our next observation. There was a court of fifty-five yards square, cut in the natural rock; the sides of the rock standing around it, about three yards high, supplied the place of walls. On three sides it was thus encompassed, but to the northward it lay open. In the centre of this area a square part of the rock was left standing, being three yards high and five yards and a half square. This served for a pedestal to a throne erected upon it. The throne was composed of large stones, two at the sides, one at the back, another hanging over all at top, in the manner of a canopy. The whole structure was about twenty feet high, fronting toward that side where the court was open. The stone that made the canopy was five yards and three quarters square, and carved round with a handsome cornice. What all this might be designed for, we could not imagine, unless, perhaps, the court may pass for an idol temple, and the pile in the middle for the throne of the idol; which seems the more probable, in regard that Hercules, i.e. the Sun, the great abomination of the Phoenicians, was wont to be adored in an open temple. At the two innermost angles of the court, and likewise on the open side, were left pillars of the natural rock, three at each of the former, and two at the latter. About half a mile to the southward of the aforesaid antiquities, there stood in view two towers. But, it growing dark, we were forced to defer our examination of them till the next morning. Our whole stage this day exceeded not six hours. March 8.—Having passed over a restless night, in a marshy and unwholesome ground, we got up very early, in order to take a nearer view of the two towers last mentioned. We found them to be sepulchral monuments, erected over two ancient burying-places. They stood at about ten yards' distance from each other. The first was thirty-three feet high. Its longest stone or pedestal was ten feet high, and fifteen square. The super-structure Each of these barbarous monuments had under it several sepulchres, the entrances into which were on the south side. It cost us some time and pains to get into them, the avenues being obstructed, first with briars and weeds, and then with dirt. But, however, we removed both these obstacles, encouraging ourselves with the hopes, or rather making ourselves merry with the fancy, of hidden treasure. But, as soon as we were entered into the vaults, we found that our golden imaginations ended (as all worldly hopes and projects do at last) in dust and putrefaction. But, however, that we might not go away without some reward for our pains, we took as exact a survey as we could of these chambers of darkness, which were disposed in manner as follows. The chambers under the first tower lie side by side. Going down seven or eight steps, you come to the mouth of the sepulchre, where crawling in you arrive in the first chamber, which is nine feet two inches broad, and eleven feet long. Turning to the right hand, and going through a narrow passage, you come to a room which is eight feet broad and ten long. In this chamber are seven cells for corpses, viz. two over against the entrance, four on the left hand, and one unfinished on the right. These cells were hewn directly into the firm rock. We measured several of them, and found them eight feet and a half in length, and three feet three inches square. I would not infer from hence, that the corpses deposited here were of such a gigantic size as to fill up such large coffins; though, at the same time, why should any men be so prodigal of their labour as to cut these caverns into so hard a rock as this was, much farther than necessity required? On the other side of the first chamber was a narrow passage, seven feet long, leading into a room whose dimensions were nine feet in breadth and twelve in length. It had eleven Passing out of the first room, you have, right before you, two narrow entrances, each seven feet long, into another room. This apartment was nine feet square. It had no cells in it like the others, nor any thing else remarkable, but only a bench, cut all along its side on the left hand. From the description of this sepulchre, it is easy to conceive the disposition of the other. The height of the rooms in both was about six feet, and the towers were built each over the innermost room of the sepulchres to which it belonged. At about the distance of a furlong from this place, we discerned another tower, resembling this last described. It was erected likewise over a sepulchre. There was this singularity observable in this last sepulchre, that its cells were cut into the rock eighteen feet in length, possibly to the intent, that two or three corpses might be deposited in each of them, at the feet of one another. But, having a long stage this day to Tripoli, we thought it not seasonable to spend any more time in this place, which might perhaps have afforded us several other antiquities. And yet, for all our haste, we had not gone a mile, before our curiosity was again arrested by the observation of another tower, which appeared in a thicket not far from the wayside. It was thirty-three feet and a half high, and thirty-one feet square, composed of huge square stones, and adorned with a handsome cornice all around at top. It contained only two rooms, one above the other; into both which there were entrances on the north side, through two square holes in the wall. The separation between both rooms, as also the covering at the top, was made, not of arched work, but of vast flat stones, in thickness four feet, and so great an extent, that two of them in each place, sufficed to spread over the whole fabric. This was a very ancient structure, and probably a place of sepulture. I must not forget, that around about the Serpent Fountain, and also as far as this last tower, we saw many sepulchres, old foundations, and other remains of antiquity. From all which it may be assuredly concluded, that here must needs have been some famous habitation in ancient times; but whether this might be the Ximyra, laid down by Strabo hereabouts Having quitted ourselves of these antiquities, we entered into a spacious plain, extending to a vast breadth, between the sea and the mountains, and in length reaching almost as far as Tripoli. The people of the country call it Junia, that is, the Plain, which name they give it by way of eminency, upon account of its vast extent. We were full seven hours in passing it, and found it all along exceedingly fruitful, by reason of the many rivers and the great plenty of water which it enjoys. Of these rivers the first is about six hours before you come to Tripoli. It has a stone bridge over it of three large arches, and is the largest stream in the whole plain; for which reason it goes by the name of Nahr-el-Kibber, or the Great River. About half an hour farther you come to another river, called Nahr Abrosh, or the Leper's River. In three quarters of an hour more you pass a third river, called Nahr Acchar, having a handsome stone bridge, of one very large arch laid over it. Two good hours more bring you to a fourth river, called ... or the Cold Waters, with a bridge of three arches over it. From hence you have two good hours more to Tripoli. I took the more exact account of all these streams to the intent that I might give some light, for the better deciding that difference which is found in geographers about the place of the river Eleutherus. The moderns, all with one consent, give that name to a river between Tyre and Sidon, called by the Turks Casimeer. But this contradicts the universal testimony of the ancients, who place Eleutherus more northward. Strabo will have it somewhere between Orthosia and Tripoli, as a boundary dividing Syria from Phoenicia March 9.—Drawing towards Tripoli, our muleteers were afraid to advance, lest their beasts might be pressed for public service; as they were afterwards, in spite of all their caution, to our vexation. So we left them in the plain of Junia, and proceeded ourselves to Tripoli, where we arrived about sunset. Our whole stage this day was ten hours. At Tripoli we reposed a full week, being very generously entertained by Mr. Francis Hastings, the consul, and Mr. John Fisher, merchant; theirs being the only English house in Tripoli. Tripoli is seated about half an hour from the sea. The major part of the city lies between two hills; one on the east, on which is a castle commanding the place; another on the west, between the city and the sea. This latter is said to have been at first raised and to be still increased by the daily accession of sand, blown to it from the shore, upon which occasion there goes a prophecy that the whole city shall in time be buried with this sandy hill. But the Turks seem not very apprehensive of this prediction; for, instead of preventing the growth of the hill, they suffer it to take its course, and make it a place of pleasure, which they would have little inclination to do, did they apprehend it were some time to be their grave. March 10.—This day we were all treated by Mr. Fisher in the Campagnia. The place where we dined was a narrow pleasant valley, by a river's side, distant from the city about a mile eastward. Across the valley there runs from hill to hill a handsome lofty aqueduct, carrying upon it so large a body of water as suffices the whole city. It was called the Prince's Bridge, supposed to have been built by Godfrey of Bouilloin. March 11.—This day we all dined at consul Hastings's house, and after dinner went to wait upon Ustan, the pasha of Tripoli, having first sent our present, as the manner is amongst the Turks, to procure a propitious reception. It is counted uncivil to visit in this country without an offering in hand. All great men expect it as a kind of tribute due to their character and authority, and look upon themselves as affronted, and, indeed, defrauded, when this compliment is omitted. Even in familiar visits amongst inferior people, you shall seldom have them come without bringing a flower, or an orange, or some other such token of their respect to the person visited; the Turks in this point keeping up the ancient oriental custom hinted in 1 Sam. ix. 7. "If we go," says Saul, "what shall we bring the man of God? there is not a present," &c., which words are questionless to be understood in conformity to this eastern custom, as relating to a token of respect, and not a price of divination. March 12.—In the afternoon we went to visit Bell-Mount, a convent of Greeks, about two hours to the southward of Tripoli. It was founded by one of the earls of Tripoli, and stands upon a very high rocky mountain, looking over the sea; a place of very difficult ascent, though made as accessible as it was capable by the labour of the poor monks. It was our fortune to arrive there just as they were going to their evening service. Their chapel is large, but obscure, and the altar is inclosed with cancelli, so as not to be approached by any one but the priest, according to the fashion of the Greek churches. They call their congregation together by beating a kind of tune with two mallets on a long pendulous piece of plank at the church door, bells being an abomination to the Turks. Their service consisted in precipitate and very irreverent chattering of certain prayers and hymns to our blessed Saviour, and to the blessed Virgin, and in some dark ceremonies; the priest that officiated spent at least one-third part of his time in compassing the altar, and perfuming it with a pot of incense, and then going all round the congregation, flinging his incense-pot backwards and forwards, and tendering its smoke with three repeated vibrations to every person present. Towards the end of the service there was brought into the body of the church a small table covered with a fair linen cloth, on which were placed five small cakes of bread At this ceremony the priest read the gospel concerning our Lord's feeding the multitude with five loaves. After which the bread was carried into the cancelli, and, being there suddenly broke into bits, was again brought out in a basket, and presented to every one in the assembly, that he might take a little. After this collation the priest pronounced the blessing, and so the service ended. On both sides of the body of the church were seats for the monks, in the nature of the stalls for the fellows of colleges in Oxford; and on each hand of every seat were placed crutches. These you find in like manner in most churches of this country. Their use is for the priest to lean upon, the service being sometimes so long, that they cannot well stay it out without the assistance of such easements, for they are not permitted by their rubric to sit down. The younger monks, who perhaps may have no great occasion for these supporters, do yet delight to use them (as the Spaniards do spectacles), not for any necessity, but in affectation of gravity. The monks of this convent were, as I remember, forty in all. We found them seemingly a very good-natured, and industrious, but certainly a very ignorant people. For I found upon inquiry they could not give any manner of rationale of their own divine service. And, to show their extreme simplicity, I cannot omit a compliment made to the consul, by the chief of them, viz., that he was as glad to see him as if he had beheld the Messiah himself coming in person to make a visit to him. Nor is this ignorance to be much wondered at; for what intervals of time they have between their hours of devotion they are forced to spend, not in study, but in managing of their flocks, cultivating their land, pruning their vineyards, and other labours of husbandry, which they accomplish with their own hands. This toil they are obliged to undergo, not only to provide for their own sustenance, but also that they may be able to satisfy the unreasonable exactions which the greedy Turks, upon every pretence they can invent, are ready to impose upon them. But, that it may be the better guessed what sort of men these Greek monks are, I will add this further indication, viz., that the same person whom we saw March 13.—This morning we went again to wait upon Ustan pasha, by his own appointment, and were entertained as before with great courtesy. For you must know that the Turks are not so ignorant of civility and the arts of endearment, but that they can practise them with as much exactness as any other nation, whenever they have a mind to show themselves obliging. For the better apprehending of which, it may not be improper nor unpleasant here to describe the ceremonies of a Turkish visit, as far as they have ever fallen under my observation, either upon this or any other occasion. When you would make a visit to a person of quality here, you must send one before with a present to bespeak your admission, and to know at what hour your coming may be most seasonable. Being come to the house, the servants receive you at the outermost gate, and conduct you towards their lord or master's apartment; other servants (I suppose of better rank) meeting you in the way, at their several stations, as you draw nearer to the person you visit. Coming into his room, you find him prepared to receive you, either standing at the edge of the divan, or else lying down at one corner of it, according as he thinks it proper to maintain a greater or less distinction. These divans are a sort of low stages, seated in the pleasantest part of the room, elevated about sixteen or eighteen inches or more above the floor. They are spread with carpets, and furnished all round with bolsters for leaning upon. Upon these the Turks eat, sleep, smoke, receive visits, say their prayers, &c. Their whole delight is in lolling upon them; and in furnishing them richly out is their greatest luxury. Being come to the side of the divan, you slip off your shoes, and stepping up take your place; which you must do first at some distance, and upon your knees, laying your hand very formally before you. Thus you most remain till the man of quality invites you to draw nearer, and to put yourself in an easier posture, leaning upon the bolster. Being thus fixed, he discourses with you as the occasion offers, the servants standing round all the while in a great number, and with the profoundest respect, silence, and order imaginable. This ceremony may perhaps seem ridiculous at first hearing, but it passes among the Turks for a high gratification. And I will say this in its vindication, that its design is very wise and useful. For it is understood to give a civil dismission to the visitants, intimating to them that the master of the house has business to do, or some other avocation, that permits them to go away as soon as they please, and the sooner after this ceremony the better. By this means you may at any time, without offence, deliver yourself from being detained from your affairs by tedious and unseasonable visits, and from being constrained to use that piece of hypocrisy so common in the world, of pressing those to stay longer with you whom perhaps in your heart you wish a great way off for having troubled you so long already. But of this enough. Having discharged our visit to Ustan pasha, we rode out after dinner to view the marine. It is about half an hour distant from the city. The port is an open sea rather than an inclosed harbour. However it is in part defended from the force of the waves by two small islands about two leagues out In the fields near the shore appeared many heaps of ruins and pillars of granite, and several other indications that there must have been anciently some considerable buildings this way, which agrees very well with what Casaubon, in his notes upon Strabo Sunday, March 14.—We continued still in Tripoli. March 15.—Resolving to prosecute our journey this day, we had given orders to our muleteers, some time before, to be ready to attend us; but they had been so frightened by the pasha of Sidon's servants, who were abroad in quest of mules for the service of their master, that they were run away, and could not be heard of; a disappointment which gave us much vexation, and left us to no other remedy but only to supply ourselves with fresh beasts where we could find them. Having, after much trouble, put ourselves in a new posture of travelling, we parted from Tripoli at three o'clock in the afternoon. Proceeding close by the sea, we came, in one hour and a half, to Callemone, a small village just under Bell-Mount. From hence, putting forward till near eight o'clock, we came to a high promontory, which lay directly across our way, and broke off abruptly at the sea-side, with a cape very high and almost perpendicular. In order to pass this barrier we turned up on the left hand into a narrow valley, through The promontory which terminated our journey seems to be that called by Strabo March 16.—We were no sooner in motion this morning, but we were engaged in the difficult work of crossing over the forementioned cape. The pass over it lies about a mile up from the sea. We found it very deep and rugged; but in an hour or thereabout mastered it, and arrived in a narrow valley on the other side, which brought the sea open to us again. Near the entrance of this valley stands a small fort, erected upon a rock perpendicular on all sides, the walls of the building being just adequate to the sides of the rock, and seeming almost of one continued piece with them. This castle is called Temseida, and commands the passage into the valley. In about half an hour from this place we came even with Patrone, a place esteemed to be the ancient Botrus. It is situated close by the sea; and, our road lying somewhat higher up in the land, we diverted a little out of the way to see it. We found in it some remains of an old church and a monastery; but these are now perfectly ruined and desolate, as is likewise the whole city; nor is there any thing left in it to testify it has been a place of any great consideration. In three hours more we came to Gibyle, called by the Greeks Byblus, a place once famous for the birth and temple of Adonis. It is pleasantly situated by the sea-side. At present it contains but a little extent of ground, but yet more than enough for the small number of its inhabitants. It is compassed with a dry ditch and a wall, with square towers in it at about every forty yards' distance. On its south side it has an old castle. Within it is a church exactly of the same figure with that at Tortosa, only not so entire as that. Besides this it has nothing remarkable, though anciently it Gibyle is probably the country of the Giblites, mentioned Josh. xiii. 5. King Hiram made use of the people of this place in preparing materials for Solomon's temple, as may be collected from the first of Kings, v. 18, where the word which our translator has rendered stone-squarers, in the Hebrew is ?????, Giblim, or Giblites, and in the LXXII Interpreters, ??????, that is, the Men of Byblus; the former using the Hebrew, the latter the Greek name of this place. The same difference may be observed likewise in Ezekiel, xxvii. 9, where this place is again mentioned; the ancients of Gebal, says our translation, following the Hebrew; instead of which you read in the LXXII. again ?? p?es?te??? ??????, the elders of Bybli or Byblus. Leaving Gibyle, we came in one hour to a fair, large river, with a stone bridge over it, of only one arch, but that exceeding wide and lofty. To this river the Turks give the name of Ibrahim Pasha; but it is doubtless the ancient river Adonis, so famous for the idolatrous rites performed here in lamentation of Adonis. Upon the bank of this stream we took up our quarters for the following night, having come this day about six hours. We had a very tempestuous night both of wind and rain, almost without cessation, and with so great violence that our servants were hardly able to keep up our tents over us. But, however, this accident, which gave us so much trouble in the night, made us amends with a curiosity which it yielded us an opportunity of beholding the next morning. March 17.—For by this means we had the fortune to see what may be supposed to be the occasion of that opinion which Lucian relates concerning the river, viz., that this stream, at certain seasons of the year, especially about the feast of Adonis, is of a bloody colour, which the heathens looked upon as proceeding from a kind of sympathy in the river for the death of Adonis, who was killed by a wild boar in the mountains out of which this stream rises. Something like this we saw actually come to pass; for the water was stained to a surprising redness, and, as we observed in travelling, had discoloured the sea, a great way, into a reddish hue, occasioned, doubtless, by a sort of minium, or red earth, In an hour and a quarter from this river we passed over the foot of the mountain Climax, where, having gone through a very rugged and uneven pass, we came into a large bay called Junia. At the first entrance into the bay is an old stone bridge, which appoints the limits between the two pashalicks of Tripoli and Sidon. At the bottom of the bay are exceeding high and steep mountains, between which and the sea the road lies. These are the mountains of Castravan, chiefly inhabited by Maronites, famous for a growth of excellent wine. The Maronite bishop of Aleppo has here his residence in a convent, of which he is the guardian. We saw many other small convents on the top of these mountains, one of which, called Oozier, was, as we were here told, in the hands of ten or twelve Latin friars. Towards the further side of the bay we came to a square tower, or castle, of which kind there are many all along upon the coast for several days' journey from this place. They are said to have been built by the empress Helena, for the protection of the country from pirates. At this tower is to be paid a fourth I know not by what mistake several modern geographers confound this river with Adonis, making them to be one and the same, whereas the contrary is apparent, both from experimental observation and from the authority of ancient geographers. This river issues into the sea from between two mountains excessively steep and high, and so rocky that they seem to consist each of one entire stone. For crossing the river you go up between these mountains about a bow-shot from the sea, where you have a good bridge of four arches, near the foot of which is a piece of white marble inlaid in the side of a rock, with an Arab inscription on it, intimating its founder to have been the emir Faccardine (of whom I shall have occasion to speak more when I come to Beirout). Being passed the river, you immediately begin to ascend the mountain, or rather great rock, on the other side. To accommodate the passage you have a path of above two yards' breadth cut along its side, at a great height above the water, being the work of the emperor Antoninus; for the promontory allowing no passage between it and the sea, at bottom, that emperor undertook, with incredible labour, to open this way above, the memory of which good work is perpetuated by an inscription engraved on a table planed in the side of the natural rock, not far from the entrance into the way, as follows:—
A little higher up in the way are inscribed these words:—
In passing this way, we observed, in the sides of the rock above us, several tables of figures carved, which seemed to promise something of antiquity. To be satisfied of which, some of us clambered up to the place, and found there some signs as if the old way had gone in that region, before Antoninus cut the other more convenient passage a little lower. In several places thereabouts we saw strange antique figures of men carved in the natural rock, in mezzo relievo, and in bigness equal to the life. Close by each figure was a large It was our unhappiness to have at this place a very violent storm of thunder and rain, which made our company too much in haste to make any longer stay here. By which misfortune I was prevented, to my great regret, from copying the inscription, and making such an exact scrutiny into this antiquity as it seemed very well to deserve. I hope some curious traveller or other will have better success in passing this way hereafter. The figures seemed to resemble mummies, and were perhaps the representation of some persons buried hereabout, whose sepulchres might probably also be discovered by the diligent observer. The Antonine way extends about a quarter of an hour's travel. It is at present so broken and uneven, that to repair it would require no less labour than that wherewith it was at first made. After this pass you come upon a smooth sandy shore, which brings you in about one hour and a half to the river Beirout (for I could learn no other name it had). It is a large river, and has over it a stone bridge of six arches. On its other side is a plain field near the sea, which is said to be the stage on which St. George duelled and killed the dragon. In memory of this achievement there is a small chapel built upon the place, dedicated at first to that Christian hero, but now perverted to a mosque. From thence, in an hour, we arrived at Beirout, very wet by reason of the long and severe rain. However, we found here the shelter of a good khan by the sea-side, and there we took up our quarters. Our whole stage, this day, was about six hours and a half. March 18.—The day following we spent at Beirout, being credibly informed that the river Damer, which lay in our next stage, was so swollen by the late rains that it would be impassable. This place was anciently called Berytus, from which the idol Baal-Berith is supposed to have had its name; and afterwards, being greatly esteemed by Augustus, had many privileges conferred upon it, and together with them a new name, viz. Julia Felix. But at present it retains nothing of its ancient felicity, except the situation, and in that particular The emir Faccardine had his chief residence in this place. He was in the reign of sultan Morat, the fourth emir, or prince of the Druses, a people supposed to have descended from some dispersed remainder of those Christian armies that engaged in the crusades for the recovery of the Holy Land We went to view the palace of this prince, which stands on the north-east part of the city. At the entrance of it is a marble fountain, of greater beauty than is usually seen in Turkey. The palace within consists of several courts, all now run much to ruin, or rather perhaps never finished. The stables, yards for horses, dens for lions and other savage creatures, gardens, &c., are such as would not be unworthy of the quality of a prince in Christendom, were they wrought up to that perfection of which they are capable, and to which they seem to have been designed by their first contriver. But the best sight that this palace affords, and the most worthy to be remembered, is the orange garden. It contains a large quadrangular plot of ground, divided into sixteen lesser squares, four in a row, with walks between them. The walks are shaded with orange-trees, of a large spreading size, It may perhaps be wondered how this emir should be able to contrive any thing so elegant and regular as this garden, seeing the Turkish gardens are usually nothing else but a confused miscellany of trees jumbled together, without either knots, walks, arbours, or any thing of art or design, so that they seem like thickets rather than gardens. But Faccardine had been in Italy, where he had seen things of another nature, and knew well how to copy them in his own country; for indeed it appears, by these remains of him, that he must needs have been a man much above the ordinary level of a Turkish genius. In another garden we saw several pedestals for statues, from whence it may be inferred that this emir was no very zealous Mohammedan. At one corner of the same garden stood a tower of about sixty feet high, designed to have been carried to a much greater elevation for a watch-tower, and for that end built with an extraordinary strength, its walls being On the south side the town wall is still entire, but built out of the ruins of the old city, as appears by pieces of pillars and marble which help to build it. On one piece of marble table we saw these remaining letters of a Latin inscription:—
A little without this wall we saw many granite pillars and remnants of Mosaic floors, and in a heap of rubbish several pieces of polished marble, fragments of statues, and other poor relics of this city's ancient magnificence. On the sea-shore is an old ruined castle, and some remains of a small mole. March 19.—Leaving Beirout, we came in one-third of an hour to a large plain extending from the sea to the mountains. At the beginning of the plain is a grove of pine-trees of Faccardine's plantation. We guessed it to be more than half a mile across; and so pleasant and inviting was its shade, that it was not without some regret that we passed it by. Continuing in this plain, we saw at a distance, on our left hand, a small village called Suckfoat. It belongs to the Druses, who possess at this day a long tract of mountains, as far as from Castravan to Carmel. Their present prince is Achmet, grandson to Faccardine, an old man, and one who keeps up the custom of his ancestors of turning day into night, an hereditary practice in his family, proceeding from a traditional persuasion amongst them, that princes can never sleep securely but by day, when men's actions and designs are best observed by their guards, and, if need be, most easily prevented; but Two hours from Faccardine's grove brought us to the fifth caphar, and another little hour to the river Damer or Tamyras, the former being its modern, the latter its ancient name. It is a river apt to swell much upon sudden rains; in which case, precipitating itself from the mountains with great rapidity, it has been fatal to many passengers. Amongst the rest, one Monsieur Spon, nephew to Dr. Spon, coming from Jerusalem about four years ago, in company with some English gentlemen, in passing this stream, was hurried down by it, and perished in the sea, which lies about a furlong lower than the passage. We had the good fortune to find the river in a better temper, its waters being now assuaged since the late rains. However, the country fellows were ready here, according to their trade, to have assisted us in our passage over; in order to which, they had very officiously stripped themselves naked against our coming; and to the end that they might oblige us to make use of their help, for which they would be well paid, they brought us to a place where the water was deepest, pretending there was no other passage besides that, which cheat we saw them actually impose upon some other travellers, who came not long after us. But we had been advised of a place a little higher in the river, where the stream was broader and shallower, and there we easily passed without their assistance. Just by this place are the ruins of a stone bridge, of which one might guess by the firmness of its remains that it might have been still entire, had not these villains broke it down, in order to their making their advantages of passengers, either conducting them over for good pay, or else, if they have opportunity, drowning them for their spoils. On the other side of the river, the mountains approach closer to the sea, leaving only a narrow rocky way between. From Damer, in two hours, we came to another river of no inconsiderable figure, but not once mentioned by any geographer that I know of. It is within one hour of Sidon. Its channel is deep, contains a good stream, and has a large stone At this river we were met by several of the French merchants from Sidon, they having a factory there the most considerable of all theirs in the Levant. Being arrived at Sidon, we pitched our tents by a cistern without the city, but were ourselves conducted by the French gentlemen to the place of their habitation, which is a large khan close by the sea, where the consul and all the nation are quartered together. Before the front of this khan is an old mole running into the sea with a right angle; it was of no capacity at best, but now is rendered perfectly useless, having been purposely filled up with rubbish and earth by Faccardine, to prevent the Turkish galleys from making their unwelcome visits to this place. The mole being thus destroyed, all ships that take in their burden here are forced to ride at anchor under the shelter of a small ridge of rocks about a mile distant from the shore, on the north side of the city. Sidon is stocked well enough with inhabitants, but is very much shrunk from its ancient extent, and more from its splendour, as appears from a great many beautiful pillars that lie scattered up and down the gardens without the present walls. Whatever antiquities may at any time have been hereabout, they are now all perfectly obscured and buried by the Turkish buildings. Upon the south side of the city, on a hill, stands an old castle, said to have been the work of Louis IX. of France, surnamed the saint; and not far from the castle is an old unfinished palace of Faccardine's, serving, however, the pasha for his seraglio, neither of them worth mentioning, had the city afforded us any thing else more remarkable. Near about Sidon begin the precincts of the Holy Land, and of that part of it in particular which was allotted to Asher; the borders of which tribe extended from Carmel as far as Great Zidon, as appears from Josh. xix. 26, 28. But the people upon the sea-coast were never actually mastered by the Israelites, being left by the just judgment of God to be thorns in their sides, for a reason that may be seen in Judges, ii. 1-3, &c. The person who is the French consul at Sidon has also the title of consul of Jerusalem, and is obliged by his master, the French king, to make a visit to the holy city every Easter, March 20.—Being desirous, therefore, not to lose the convenience of his company, we set out early the next morning from Sidon, and, travelling in a very fruitful plain, came in half an hour to a place where we found a large pillar of granite lying across the high way, and sunk a good part under ground. Observing some letters upon it, we took the pains to dig away the earth, by which means we recovered this fragment of an inscription:—
Some gentlemen of our nation, in their journey to Jerusalem this last Easter, anno 1699, found another pillar, about midway between the one we saw and Sidon, of the same make and use, from which they took the aforesaid inscription more perfectly. As far as filius ejus there is no variation, and after that it goes on thus:—
By which we may observe the exactness of the Romans in measuring out their roads, and marking down upon every pillar the number of miles, as I. II. III., &c. A little beyond this pillar, we passed in sight of Ko-ri-e, a large village on the side of the mountains, and in two hours and a half more came to Sarphan, supposed to be the ancient Sarephath, or Sarepta, so famous for the residence and miracles of the prophet Elijah. The place shown us for this city consisted of only a few houses on the tops of the mountains, within about half a mile of the sea; but it is more probable the principal part of the city stood below, in the space between the hills and the sea, there being ruins still to be seen in that place of considerable extent. From thence, in three hours, we arrived at Casimeer, a river large and deep, running down to the sea through a plain, in which it creeps along with various meanders and turnings. It had once a good stone bridge laid over it of four arches; but of that nothing remains at present except the supporters, between which there are laid beams and boards to supply the room of the arches, and to make a passage over; but so careless and loose is the fabric, that it looks like a trap rather than a bridge. We had one horse dropped through, notwithstanding our utmost care to prevent such misfortunes; but it was our good luck to recover him again safe on shore. This river is assigned by our modern geographers for the old Eleutherus, but how erroneously has been before mentioned. Strabo mentions a certain river falling into the sea near Tyre, This city, standing in the sea upon a peninsula, promises at a distance something very magnificent; but, when you come to it, you find no similitude of that glory for which it was so renowned in ancient times, and which the prophet Ezekiel describes In the midst of the ruins there stands up one pile, higher than the rest, which is the east end of a great church, probably of the cathedral of Tyre; and why not the very same that was erected by its bishop Paulinus, and honoured with that famous consecration sermon of Eusebius, recorded by himself I cannot, in this place, omit an observation made by most of our company in this journey, viz. that in all the ruins of churches which we saw, though their other parts were totally demolished, yet the east end we always found standing and tolerably entire. Whether the Christians, when overrun by infidels, redeemed their altars from ruin with money; or whether even the barbarians, when they demolished the other parts of the churches, might voluntarily spare these out of an awe and veneration; or whether they have stood thus long by virtue of some peculiar firmness in the nature of their fabric; or whether some occult providence has preserved them as so many standing monuments of Christianity in these unbelieving regions, and presages of its future restoration, I will not determine. This only I will say, that we found it, in fact, so as I described in all the ruined churches that came in our But to return from this digression, there being an old staircase in this ruin last mentioned, I got up to the top of it, from whence I had an entire prospect of the island, part of Tyre, of the isthmus, and of the adjacent shore. I thought I could, from this elevation, discern the isthmus to be a soil of a different nature from the other two, it lying lower than either, and being covered all over with sand which the sea casts upon it as the tokens of its natural right to a passage there, from which it was, by Alexander the Great, injuriously excluded. The island of Tyre, in its natural state, seems to have been of a circular figure, containing not more than forty acres of ground. It discovers still the foundations of a wall, which anciently encompassed it round at the utmost margin of the land. It makes, with the isthmus, two large bays, one on its north side and the other on its south. These bays are in part defended from the ocean, each by a long ridge, resembling a mole, stretching directly out, on both sides, from the head of the island; but these ridges, whether they were walls or rocks, whether the work of art or nature, I was too far distant to discern. Coming out of these ruins, we saw the foundation of a very strong wall, running across the neck of land, and serving as a barrier to secure the city on this side. From this place we were one-third of an hour in passing the sandy isthmus, before we came to the ground which we apprehended to be the natural shore. From hence, passing over part of a very fertile plain, which extends itself to a vast compass before Tyre, we arrived, in three quarters of an hour, at Ras-el-ayn. Our whole stage, from Sidon hither, was about eight hours. Sunday, March 21.—Ras-el-ayn is a place where are the cisterns called Solomon's, supposed, according to the common tradition hereabouts, to have been made by that great king, as a part of his recompense to king Hiram for the supplies of materials sent by him toward the building of the temple. The former is of an octagonal figure, twenty-two yards in diameter. It is elevated above the ground, nine yards on the south side and six on the north; and, within, is said to be of an unfathomable deepness; but ten yards of line confuted that opinion. Its wall is of no better a material than gravel and small pebbles; but consolidated with so strong and tenacious a cement, that it seems to be all one entire vessel of rock. Upon the brink of it you have a walk round, eight feet broad, from which, descending by one step on the south side, and by two on the north, you have another walk twenty-one feet broad. All this structure, though so broad at top, is yet made hollow, so that the water comes in underneath the walks, insomuch that I could not, with a long rod, reach the extremity of the cavity. The whole vessel contains a vast body of excellent water, and is so well supplied from its fountain that, though there issues from it a stream like a brook, driving four mills between this place and the sea, yet it is always brim full. On the east side of this cistern was the ancient outlet of the water, by an aqueduct raised about six yards from the ground, and containing a channel one yard wide; but this is now stopped up and dry, the Turks having broke an outlet on the other side, deriving thence a stream for grinding their corn. The aqueduct (now dry) is carried eastward about one hundred and twenty paces, and then approaches the two other cisterns, of which one is twelve, the other twenty yards square. These have each a little channel, by which they anciently rendered their waters into the aqueduct; and so the united streams of all the three cisterns were carried together to Tyre. You may trace out the aqueduct all along by the The fountain of these waters is as unknown as the contriver of them. It is certain, from their rising so high, they must be brought from some part of the mountains, which are about a league distant; and it is as certain that the work was well done at first, seeing it performs its office so well at so great a distance of time. Leaving this pleasant quarter we came, in an hour and a half, to the white promontory, so called from the aspect it yields toward the sea. Over this you pass by a way about two yards broad, cut along its side, from which the prospect down is very dreadful, by reason of the extreme depth and steepness of the mountain, and the raging of the waves at bottom. This way is about one-third of an hour over, and is said to have been the work of Alexander the Great. About one-third of an hour farther you pass by a heap of rubbish, close by the sea-side, being the ruins of the castle Scandalium, taking its name from its founder, the same Alexander, whom the Turks call Scander. The ruin is one hundred and twenty paces square, having a dry ditch encompassing it; and from under it, on the side next the sea, there issues a fountain of very fair water. In an hour from hence you come to the sixth caphar, called Nachera; and in another hour to the plain of Acra, over a very deep and rugged mountain, supposed to be part of Mount Saron. All the way from the white promontory to this plain is exceeding rocky; but here the pleasantness of the road makes you amends for the former labour. The plain of Acra (Acre) extends itself, in length, from Mount Having travelled about one hour in the plain of Acra, we passed by an old town called Zib, situate on an ascent close by the sea-side. This may probably be the old Achzib Acra had anciently the name of Accho, and is another of the places out of which the children of Israel could not drive the primitive inhabitants This city was for a long time the theatre of contention between the Christians and infidels, till at last, after having divers times changed its masters, it was, by a long siege, finally taken by the Turks, and ruined by them in such a manner as if they had thought they could never take a full revenge upon it for the blood it had cost them, or sufficiently prevent such slaughters for the future. As to its situation, it enjoys all possible advantages both of sea and land. On its north and east sides it is compassed with a spacious and fertile But notwithstanding all these advantages, it has never been able to recover itself since its last fatal overthrow; for, besides a large khan, in which the French factors have taken up their quarters, and a mosque, and a few poor cottages, you see nothing here but a vast and spacious ruin. It is such a ruin, however, as sufficiently demonstrates the strength of the place in former times. It appears to have been encompassed, on the land side, by a double wall, defended with towers at small distances; and without the walls are ditches, ramparts, and a kind of bastions faced with hewn stone. In the fields without these works we saw, scattered up and down upon the ground, several large balls of stone, of at least thirteen or fourteen inches diameter, which were part of the ammunition used in battering the city, guns being then unknown. Within the walls there still appear several ruins, which seem to distinguish themselves from the general heaps by some marks of a greater strength and magnificence, as, first, those of the cathedral church, dedicated to St. Andrew, which stands not far from the sea-side, more high and conspicuous than the other ruins; secondly, the church of St. John, the tutelar saint of this city; thirdly, the convent of the Knights Hospitallers, a place whose remaining walls sufficiently testify its ancient strength; and, not far from the convent, the palace of the grand master of that order, the magnificence of which may be guessed from a large staircase and part of a church, still remaining in it; fourthly, some remains of a large church formerly belonging to a nunnery, of which they tell this memorable story. The Turks, having pressed this city with a long and furious siege, at last entered it by storm, May 19, 1291; in which great extremity the abbess of the nunnery, fearing lest she, and those under her care, might be forced to submit to such bestialities as are usual in cases of that deplorable nature, used this cruel but generous means for securing both herself and them. She summoned all her flock together, and exhorted them to cut and mangle their faces as the only way to preserve their virgin purity; and, to show how much she was in earnest, she immediately began, before them all, to make herself an example of her own counsel. The nuns were so animated by this heroical resolution and pattern of the But that which pleased us most at Acra was to find the French consul, Monsieur l'Empereur, there, who had been so generous as to make a halt of two days, in expectation of our arrival. But he had stayed to the utmost extent of his time, and therefore resolved to set forward again the next morning. Our greatest difficulty was to determine which road to take; whether that upon the coast by CÆsarea and Joppa, or that by Nazareth; or a middle way between both the other, over the plain of Esdraelon. The cause of this uncertainty was the embroilments and factions that were then amongst the Arabs, which made us desirous to keep as far as possible out of the way. It is the policy of the Turks always to sow divisions amongst these wild people, by setting up several heads over their tribes, often deposing the old and placing new ones in their stead, by which art they create contrary interests and parties amongst them, preventing them from ever uniting under any one prince; which, if they should have the sense to do (being so numerous and almost the sole inhabitants thereabouts), they might shake off the Turkish yoke, and make themselves supreme lords of the country. But, however useful these discords may be to the Turks in this respect, yet a stranger is sure to suffer by them, being March 22.—According to which purpose we set out early the next morning from Acra, having with us a band of Turkish soldiers for our securer convoy. Our road lay, for about half an hour, along by the side of the Bay of Acra; and then, arriving at the bottom of the bay, we turned southward. Here we passed a small river which we took to be Belus, famous for its sand, which is said to be an excellent material for making glass, as also to have ministered the first occasion and hint of that invention. Here we began to decline from the sea-coast, upon which we had travelled so many days before, and to draw off more easterly, crossing obliquely over the plain, and in two good hours we arrived at its farthest side, where it is bounded by Mount Carmel. Here you find a narrow valley letting you out of the Plain of Acra into that of Esdraelon. Hereabouts is the end of the tribe of Asher, and the beginning of that of Zabulon; the borders of these two tribes being thus described in Joshua, xix. 26. Passing through the narrow valley which makes a communication between the two plains, we arrived in two hours at that ancient river, the river Kishon; which cuts its way down the middle of the Plain of Esdraelon, and then, continuing its course close by the side of Mount Carmel, falls into the sea at a place called Caypha. In the condition we saw it, its waters were low and inconsiderable; but, in passing along the side of the plain, we discerned the tracks of many lesser torrents falling down into it from the mountains, which must needs make it swell exceedingly upon sudden rains, as doubtless it actually did at the destruction of Sisera's host March 23.—Leaving this lodging, we arrived in one-third of an hour at the emir's tents, who came out in person to take his duties of us. We paid him two caphars Getting quit of Chibly we turned out of the plain of Esdraelon, and entered into the precincts of the half-tribe of Manasses. From hence our road lay for about four hours through narrow valleys, pleasantly wooded on both sides. After which, crossing another small fruitful plain, we came in half an hour to Caphar Arab, where we lodged. Our whole stage exceeded not five hours; our course being nearly as the day before. March 24.—Having paid our caphar, we set out very early the next morning; and leaving first Arab, and then Rama (two mountain villages), on the right hand, we arrived in one hour at a fair fountain called Selee, taking its name from an adjacent village. In one hour more we came to Sebasta. Here you leave the borders of the half-tribe of Manasses, and enter into those of the tribe of Ephraim. Sebasta is the ancient Samaria, the imperial city of the ten tribes, after their revolt from the house of David. It lost its former name in the time of Herod the Great, who raised it from a ruined to a most magnificent state, and called it, in honour of Augustus CÆsar, Sebasta. It is situate upon a long mount of an oval figure, having first a fruitful valley, and then a ring of hills running round about it. This great city is now wholly converted into gardens, and all the tokens Leaving Sebasta, we passed in half an hour by Sherack, and in another half hour by Barseba, two villages on the right hand; and then entering into a narrow valley lying east and west, and watered with a fine rivulet, we arrived in one hour at Naplosa. Naplosa is the ancient Sychem, or Sychar, as it is termed in the New Testament. It stands in a narrow valley between Mount Gerizim on the south and Ebal on the north, being built at the foot of the former; for so the situation both of the city and mountains is laid down by Josephus Upon one of these mountains also it was that God commanded the children of Israel to set up great stones, plastered over and inscribed with the body of their law; and to erect an altar and to offer sacrifices, feasting and rejoicing before the Lord Our company halting a little while at Naplosa, I had an opportunity to go and visit the chief priest of the Samaritans, in order to discourse with him, about this and some other difficulties occurring in the Pentateuch, which were recommended to me to be inquired about, by the learned Monsieur Job Ludolphus, author of the Æthiopic History, when I visited him at Frankford, in my passage through Germany. As for the difference between the Hebrew and Samaritan copy, before cited, the priest pretended the Jews had maliciously altered their text, out of odium to the Samaritans; putting for Gerizim Ebal, upon no other account, but only because the Samaritans worshipped in the former mountain, which they would have, for that reason, not to be the true place appointed by God for his worship and sacrifice. To confirm this, he pleaded that Ebal was the mountain of cursing I inquired of him next what sort of animal he thought those selavÆ might be, which the children of Israel were so long fed with in the wilderness This priest showed me a copy of the Samaritan Pentateuch, but would not be persuaded to part with it upon any consideration. He had likewise the first volume of the English Polyglot, which he seemed to esteem equally with his own manuscript. Naplosa is at present in a very mean condition, in comparison of what it is represented to have been anciently. It consists chiefly of two streets, lying parallel, under Mount Gerizim; but it is full of people, and the seat of a pasha. Having paid our caphar here, we set forward again in the evening, and, proceeding in the same narrow valley between Gerizim and Ebal (not above a furlong broad), we saw on our right hand, just without the city, a small mosque, said to have been built over the sepulchre purchased by Jacob of Emmor, the father of Shechem At about one third of an hour from Naplosa, we came to Jacob's Well, famous not only upon account of its author, but much more for that memorable conference which our blessed Saviour here had with the woman of Samaria At this well the narrow valley of Sychem ends, opening itself into a wide field, which is probably part of that parcel of ground given by Jacob to his son Joseph. It is watered with a fresh stream rising between it and Sychem, which makes it so exceeding verdant and fruitful, that it may well be looked upon as a standing token of the tender affection of that good patriarch to the best of sons From Jacob's well our road went southward, along a very spacious and fertile valley. Having passed by two villages on the right hand, one called Howar, the other Sawee, we arrived in four hours at Khan Leban, and lodged there. Our whole stage to-day was about eight hours; our course variable between east and south. Khan Leban stands on the east side of a delicious vale, having a village of the same name standing opposite to it on the other side of the vale. One of these places, either the khan or the village, is supposed to have been the Lebonah mentioned in Judges, xi. 19, to which both the name and situation seem to agree. March 25.—From Khan Leban our road lay through a more mountainous and rocky country, of which we had a specimen as soon as we were mounted the next morning, our first task being to climb a very craggy and difficult mountain. In three quarters of an hour we left, at some distance on the right hand, a village called Cinga, and in one hour more, we entered into a very narrow valley, between two high rocky hills, at the farther end of which we found the ruins of a village and of a monastery. In this very place, or hereabouts, Jacob's Bethel is supposed to have been, where he had his stony couch made easy by that beatifying vision of God, and of the angels ascending and descending, on a ladder reaching from earth to heaven From hence we passed through large olive-yards, and having left first Geeb and then Selwid (two Arab villages) on the right hand, we came in an hour and a half to an old way cut with great labour over a rocky precipice, and in one hour more we arrived at Beer. This is the place to which Jonathan fled from the revenge of his brother Abimelech Beer enjoys a very pleasant situation, on an easy declivity fronting southward. At the bottom of the hill it has a plentiful fountain of excellent water, from which it has its name. At its upper side are the remains of an old church built by the empress Helena in memory of the Blessed Virgin, who, when she was in search of the child Jesus, as it is related All along this day's travel from Khan Leban to Beer, and also as far as we could see around, the country discovered a quite different face from what it had before, presenting nothing to the view, in most places, but naked rocks, mountains, and precipices; at sight of which pilgrims are apt to be much astonished and baulked in their expectations, finding that country in such an inhospitable condition, concerning whose pleasantness and plenty they had before formed in their minds such high ideas from the description given of it in the Word of God, insomuch that it almost startles their faith, when they reflect how it could be possible for a land like this to supply food for so prodigious a number of inhabitants as are said to have been polled in the twelve tribes at one time, the number given in by Joab For the husbanding of these mountains, their manner was to gather up the stones, and place them in several lines along the sides of the hills in form of a wall. By such borders they supported the mould from tumbling, or being washed down, and formed many beds of excellent soil rising gradually one above another, from the bottom to the top of the mountains. Of this form of culture you see evident footsteps, whereever Leaving Beer, we proceeded as before, in a rude stony country, which yet yielded us the sight of several old ruined villages. In two hours and one-third we came to the top of a hill, from whence we had the first prospect of Jerusalem, Rama, anciently called Gibeah of Saul, being within view on the right hand, and the plain of Jericho and the mountains of Gilead on the left. In one hour more we approached the walls of the holy city; but we could not enter immediately, it being necessary first to send a messenger to acquaint the governor of our arrival, and to desire liberty of entrance, March 26.—The next day, being Good-Friday in the Latin style, the consul was obliged to go into the Church of the Sepulchre, in order to keep his feast, whither we accompanied him, although our own Easter was not till a week after theirs. We found the church doors guarded by several Janizaries, and other Turkish officers, who are placed here to watch that none enter in but such as have first paid their appointed caphar. This is more or less according to the country or the character of the persons that enter. For Franks it is ordinarily fourteen dollars per head, unless they are ecclesiastics, for in that case it is but half so much. Having once paid this caphar, you may go in and out gratis as often as you please during the whole feast, provided you take the ordinary opportunities in which it is customary to open the doors; but if you would have them opened at any time out of the common course, purposely for your own private occasion, then the first expense must be paid again. The pilgrims being all admitted this day, the church doors were locked in the evening, and opened no more till Easter-day, by which we were kept in a close, but very happy confinement, for three days. We spent our time in viewing the And now, being got under the sacred roof, and having the advantage of so much leisure and freedom, I might expatiate in a large description of the several holy places which this church (as a cabinet) contains in it; but this would be a superfluous prolixity, so many pilgrims having discharged this office with so much exactness already, and especially our learned sagacious countryman Mr. Sandys, whose descriptions and draughts, both of this church and also of the other remarkable places in and about Jerusalem, must be acknowledged so faithful and perfect, that they leave very little to be added by aftercomers, and nothing to be corrected. I shall content myself, therefore, to relate only what passed in the church during this festival, saying no more of the church itself than just what is necessary to make my account intelligible. The church of the Holy Sepulchre is founded upon Mount Calvary, which is a small eminence or hill upon the greater Mount Moriah. It was anciently appropriated to the execution of malefactors, and therefore shut out of the walls of the city as an execrable and polluted place; but since it was made the altar on which was offered up the precious and all sufficient sacrifice for the sins of the whole world, it has recovered itself from that infamy, and has been always reverenced and resorted to with such devotion by all Christians, that it has attracted the city around about it, and stands now in the midst of Jerusalem, a great part of the hill of Sion being shut out of the walls to make room for the admission of Calvary. In order to the fitting of this hill for the foundation of a church, the first founders were obliged to reduce it to a plain area, which they did by cutting down several parts of the rock, and by elevating others; but, in this work, care was taken that none of those parts of the hill which were reckoned to be more immediately concerned in our blessed Lord's passion should be altered or diminished. Thus that very part of Calvary where they say Christ was fastened to, and lifted upon, his cross, is left entire, being about ten or twelve yards square, and standing, at this day, so high above the common floor of the church, that you have twenty-one steps or stairs to go up to its top; and the holy sepulchre itself, which was The church is less than one hundred paces long, and not more than sixty wide; and yet is so contrived that it is supposed to contain under its roof twelve or thirteen sanctuaries, or places consecrated to a more than ordinary veneration, by being reputed to have some particular actions done in them relating to the death and resurrection of Christ. As, first, the place where he was derided by the soldiers; secondly, where the soldiers divided his garments; thirdly, where he was shut up whilst they digged the hole to set the foot of the cross in, and made all ready for his crucifixion; fourthly, where he was nailed to the cross; fifthly, where the cross was erected; sixthly, where the soldier stood that pierced his side; seventhly, where his body was anointed in order to his burial; eighthly, where his body was deposited in the sepulchre; ninthly, where the angels appeared to the women after his resurrection; tenthly, where Christ himself appeared to Mary Magdalen, &c. The places where these and many other things relating to our blessed Lord are said to have been done, are all supposed to be contained within the narrow precincts of this church, and are all distinguished and adorned with so many several altars. In galleries round about the church, and also in little buildings annexed to it on the outside, are certain apartments for the reception of friars and pilgrims; and in these places almost every Christian nation anciently maintained a small society of monks, each society having its proper quarter assigned to it by the appointment of the Turks, such as the Latins, Greeks, Syrians, Armenians, Abyssinians, Georgians, Nestorians, Cophtites, Maronites, &c., all which had anciently their several apartments in the church; but these have all, except four, forsaken their quarters, not being able to sustain the severe rents and extortions which their Turkish landlords impose upon them. The Latins, Greeks, Armenians, and Cophtites keep their footing still; but of these four the Cophtites have now only one poor representative of their nation left; and the Armenians are run so much in debt that it is supposed they are hastening apace to follow the examples of their brethren, who have deserted before them. Besides their several apartments, each fraternity have their But that which has always been the great prize contended for by the several sects is the command and appropriation of the holy sepulchre, a privilege contested with so much unchristian fury and animosity, especially between the Greeks and Latins, that, in disputing which party should go into it to celebrate their mass, they have sometimes proceeded to blows and wounds even at the very door of the sepulchre, mingling their own blood with their sacrifices, an evidence of which fury the father guardian showed us in a great scar upon his arm, which he told us was the mark of a wound given him by a sturdy Greek priest in one of these unholy wars. Who can expect ever to see these holy places rescued from the hands of infidels? Or, if they should be recovered, what deplorable contests might be expected to follow about them, seeing, even in their present state of captivity, they are made the occasion of such unchristian rage and animosity. For putting an end to these infamous quarrels, the French king interposed, by a letter to the grand vizer, about twelve years since, requesting him to order the holy sepulchre to be put into the hands of the Latins, according to the tenor of the capitulation made in the year 1673, the consequence of which letter, and of other instances made by the French king, was that the holy sepulchre was appropriated to the Latins. This was not accomplished till the year 1690, they alone having the privilege to say mass in it; and though it be permitted to Christians of all nations to go into it for their private devotions, yet none may solemnize any public office of religion there but the Latins. The daily employment of these recluses is to trim the lamps, and to make devotional visits and processions to the several sanctuaries in the church. Thus they spend their time, many of them for four or six years together; nay, so far are some transported with the pleasing contemplations in which they here entertain themselves, that they will never come out to their dying day, burying themselves (as it were) alive in our Lord's grave. The Latins, of whom there are always about ten or twelve residing at the church, with a president over them, make Their ceremony begins on Good Friday night, which is called by them the nox tenebrosa, and is observed with such an extraordinary solemnity that I cannot omit to give a particular description of it. As soon as it grew dusk, all the friars and pilgrims were convened in the chapel of the apparition (which is a small oratory on the north side of the holy grave, adjoining to the apartments of the Latins), in order to go in a procession round the church; but, before they set out, one of the friars preached a sermon in Italian in that chapel. He began his discourse thus: "In questa notte tenebrosa," &c., at which words all the candles were instantly put out, to yield a livelier image of the occasion; and so we were held by the preacher for near half an hour, very much in the dark. Sermon being ended, every person present had a large lighted taper put into his hand, as if it were to make amends for the former darkness; and the crucifixes and other utensils were disposed in order for beginning the procession. Amongst the other crucifixes there was one of a very large size, which bore upon it the image of our Lord, as big as the life. The image was fastened to it with great nails, crowned with thorns, besmeared with blood; and so exquisitely was it formed, that it represented in a very lively manner the lamentable spectacle of our Lord's body as it hung upon the cross. This figure was carried all along in the head of the procession, after which the company followed to all the sanctuaries in the church, singing their appointed hymn at every one. The first place they visited was that of the pillar of flagellation, a large piece of which is kept in a little cell just at the door of the chapel of the apparition. There they sung their proper hymn; and another friar entertained the company with a sermon in Spanish, touching the scourging of our Lord. From hence they proceeded in solemn order to the prison From this place they went up to Calvary, leaving their shoes at the bottom of the stairs. Here are two altars to be visited, one where our Lord is supposed to have been nailed to his cross, another where his cross was erected. At the former of these they laid down the great crucifix (which I but now described) upon the floor, and acted a kind of a resemblance of Christ's being nailed to the cross; and after the hymn one of the friars preached another sermon, in Spanish, upon the crucifixion. From hence they removed to the adjoining altar, where the cross is supposed to have been erected, bearing the image of our Lord's body. At this altar is a hole in the natural rock, said to be the very same individual one in which the foot of our Lord's cross stood. Here they set up their cross, with the bloody crucified image upon it; and, leaving it in that posture, they first sung their hymn, and then the father guardian, sitting in a chair before it, preached a passion-sermon in Italian. At about one yard and a half distance from the hole in which the foot of the cross was fixed, is seen that memorable cleft in the rock, said to have been made by the earthquake which happened at the suffering of the God of Nature, when (as St. Matthew witnesseth The ceremony of the passion being over, and the guardian's sermon ended, two friars, personating the one Joseph of Arimathea, the other Nicodemus, approached the cross, and, with a most solemn and concerned air, both of aspect and behaviour, drew out the great nails, and took down the feigned body from the cross. It was an effigy so contrived that its limbs were soft and flexible, as if they had been real flesh; and nothing could be more surprising than to see the two pretended mourners bend down the arms, which were before extended, and dispose them upon the trunk in such a manner as is usual in corpses. The body, being taken down from the cross, was received in a fair, large winding sheet, and carried down from Calvary, the whole company attending as before, to the stone of unction. This is taken for the very place where the precious body of our Lord was anointed and prepared for the burial These obsequies being finished, they carried off their fancied corpse and laid it in the sepulchre, shutting up the door till Easter morning; and now, after so many sermons and so long, not to say tedious, a ceremony, it may well be imagined that the weariness of the congregation, as well as the hour of the night, made it needful to go to rest. March 27.—The next morning nothing extraordinary passed, which gave many of the pilgrims leisure to have their arms marked with the usual ensigns of Jerusalem. The artists who undertake the operation do it in this manner. They have stamps in wood of any figure that you desire, which they first print off upon your arm with powder of charcoal; then, taking two very fine needles tied close together, and dipping them often, like a pen, in certain ink, compounded, as I was informed, of gunpowder and ox-gall, they make with them small punctures all along the lines of the figure which they have In the afternoon of this day, the congregation was assembled in the area before the holy grave, where the friars spent some hours in singing over the lamentations of Jeremiah, which function, with the usual procession to the holy places, was all the ceremony of this day. Sunday, March 28.—On Easter morning the sepulchre was again set open very early. The clouds of the former morning were cleared up, and the friars put on a face of joy and serenity, as if it had been the real juncture of our Lord's resurrection; nor doubtless was this joy feigned, whatever their mourning might be, this being the day in which their Lenten discipline expired, and they were come to a full belly again. The mass was celebrated this morning just before the holy sepulchre, being the most eminent place in the church, where the father guardian had a throne erected, and being arrayed in episcopal robes, with a mitre on his head, in the sight of the Turks, he gave the host to all that were disposed to receive it, not refusing children of seven or eight years of age. This office being ended, we made our exit out of the sepulchre, and returning to the convent, dined with the friars. After dinner, we took an opportunity to go and visit some of the remarkable places without the city walls; we began with those on the north side. The first place we were conducted to was a large grotto, a little without the Damascus gate, said to have been some time the residence of Jeremiah. On the left side of it is shown the prophet's bed, being a shelf on the rock, about eight feet from the ground; and not far from this is the place where they say he wrote his Lamentations. This place is at present a college of dervises, and is held in great veneration by the Turks and Jews, as well as Christians. The next place we came to was those famous grottoes called the Sepulchres of the Kings, but for what reason they go by that name is hard to resolve; for it is certain none of the kings, either of Israel or Judah, were buried there, the Holy Scriptures assigning other places for their sepulchres, unless it may be thought, perhaps, that Hezekiah was here interred, In every one of these rooms, except the first, were coffins of stone placed in niches in the sides of the chambers. They had been at first covered with handsome lids, and carved with garlands, but now most of them were broke to pieces by sacrilegious hands. The sides and ceiling of the room were always dropping with the moist damps condensing upon them; to remedy which nuisance, and to preserve these chambers of the dead dry and clean, there was in each room a small channel cut in the floor, which served to drain the drops that fall constantly into it. But the most surprising thing belonging to these subterraneous chambers was their doors, of which there is only one that remains hanging, being left, as it were, on purpose to puzzle the beholders. It consisted of a plank of stone of about six inches in thickness, and in its other dimensions equalling the size of an ordinary door, or somewhat less. It From this description it is obvious to start a question,—how such doors as these were made, whether they were cut out of the rock in the same place and manner as they now hang, or whether they were brought and fixed in their station like other doors? One of these must be supposed to have been done; and which soever part we choose as most probable, it seems at first glance to be not without its difficulty. But thus much I have to say, for the resolving of this riddle (which is wont to create no small dispute amongst pilgrims), viz., that the door which was left hanging did not touch its lintel by at least two inches, so that I believe it might easily have been lifted up and unhinged; and the doors which had been thrown down had their hinges at the upper end twice as long as those at the bottom, which seems to intimate pretty plainly by what method this work was accomplished. From these sepulchres we returned toward the city again, and, just by Herod's gate, were shown a grotto full of filthy water and mire. This passes for the dungeon in which Jeremiah was kept by Zedekiah, till enlarged by the charity of Ebed Melech March 29.—The next day being Easter-Monday, the mosolem, or governor of the city, set out, according to custom, with several bands of soldiers to convey the pilgrims to Jordan. Without this guard there is no going thither, by reason of the multitude and insolence of the Arabs in these parts. The fee to the mosolem for his company and soldiers upon this occasion is twelve dollars for each Frank pilgrim, but if they be ecclesiastics, six, which you must pay whether you are disposed to go the journey or stay in the city. We went out at St. Stephen's gate, being in all, of every nation and sex, about two thousand pilgrims. Having crossed the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and part of Mount Olivet, we came in half an About a bow-shot from thence, you pass by the place which they say was Mary Magdalen's habitation, and then, descending a steep hill, you come to the fountain of the Apostles; so called because, as the tradition goes, those holy persons were wont to refresh themselves here in their frequent travels between Jerusalem and Jericho. And indeed it is a thing very probable, and no more than I believe is done by all that travel this way, the fountain being close by the road-side, and very inviting to the thirsty passenger. From this place you proceed in an intricate way amongst hills and valleys interchangeably, all of a very barren aspect at present, but discovering evident signs of the labour of the husbandman in ancient times. After some hours' travel in this sort of road, you arrive at the mountainous desert into which our blessed Saviour was led by the Spirit to be tempted by the devil. A most miserable, dry, barren place it is, consisting of high rocky mountains, so torn and disordered, as if the earth had here suffered some great convulsion, in which its very bowels had been turned outwards. On the left hand, looking down in a deep valley as we passed along, we saw some ruins of small cells and cottages, which they told us were formerly the habitations of hermits retiring thither for penance and mortification; and certainly there could not be found in the whole earth a more comfortless and abandoned place for that purpose. From the top of these hills of desolation, we had, however, a delightful prospect of the mountains of Arabia, the Dead Sea, and the Plain of Jericho, into which last place we descended, after about five hours' march Turning down from thence into the plain, we passed by a ruined aqueduct, and a convent in the same condition, and in about a mile's riding came to the fountain of Elisha, so called because miraculously purged from its brackishness by the prophet, at the request of the men of Jericho At about one-third of an hour's distance from hence is Jericho, at present only a poor nasty village of the Arabs. We were here carried to see a place where Zaccheus's house is said to have stood, which is only an old square stone building, on the south side of Jericho. About two furlongs from hence, the mosolem, with his people, had encamped; and not far from them we took up our quarters this night. March 30.—The next morning we set out very early for Within about a furlong of the river, at that place where we visited it, there was an old ruined church and convent, dedicated to St. John, in memory of the baptizing of our blessed Lord. It is founded as near as could be conjectured to the very place where he had the honour to perform that sacred office, and to wash Him who was infinitely purer than the water itself. On the farther side of the aforementioned convent there runs along a small descent, which you may fitly call the first and outermost bank of Jordan; as far as which it may be supposed the river does, or at least did anciently, overflow at some seasons of the year, viz., at the time of harvest After having descended the outermost bank, you go about a furlong upon a level strand before you come to the immediate bank of the river. This second bank is so beset with bushes and trees, such as tamarisk, willows, oleanders, &c., that you can see no water till you have made your way through them. In this thicket anciently (and the same is reported of it at this day) several sorts of wild beasts are wont to harbour themselves; whose being washed out of the covert by the No sooner were we arrived at the river, and dismounted, in order to satisfy that curiosity and devotion which brought us hither, but we were alarmed by some troops of Arabs appearing on the other side and firing at us, but at too great a distance to do any execution. This intervening disturbance hindered the friars from performing their service prescribed for this place, and seemed to put them in a terrible fear of their lives, beyond what appeared in the rest of the company; though, considering the sordidness of their present condition, and the extraordinary rewards which they boast to be their due in the world to come, one would think, in reason, they of all men should have the least cause to discover so great a fear of death, and so much fondness of a life like theirs. But this alarm was soon over, and every one returned to his former purpose; some stripped and bathed themselves in the river, others cut down boughs from the trees, every man was employed one way or other to take a memorial of this famous stream. The water was very turbid, and too rapid to be swam against. For its breadth, it might be about twenty yards over; and in depth it far exceeded my height. On the other side there seemed to be a much larger thicket than on that where we were, but we durst not swim over to take any certain account of that region for fear of the Arabs, there being three guns fired just over against us, and (as we might guess by their reports) very near the river. Having finished our design here, we were summoned to return by the mosolem, who carried us back to the middle of the plain; and there, sitting under his tent, made us pass before him, man by man, to the end he might take the more exact account of us, and lose nothing of his caphar. We seemed at this place to be near the Dead Sea, and some of us had a great desire to go nearer, and take a view of those prodigious waters. But this could not be attempted without the licence of our commander-in-chief. We therefore sent to request his permission for our going, and a guard to attend us, both which he readily granted, and we immediately prosecuted our purpose. Coming within about half an hour of the sea, we found the Coming near the sea, we passed through a kind of coppice, of bushes and reeds; in the midst of which our guide, who was an Arab, showed us a fountain of fresh water, rising not above a furlong from the sea; fresh water he called it, but we found it brackish. The Dead Sea is inclosed on the east and west with exceeding high mountains; on the north it is bounded by the plain of Jericho, on which side also it receives the waters of Jordan. On the south it is open, and extends beyond the reach of the eye. It is said to be twenty-four leagues long, and six or seven broad. On the shore of the lake we found a black sort of pebble, which being held in the flame of a candle soon burns, and yields a smoke of an intolerable stench. It has this property, that it loses only of its weight, but not of its bulk by burning. The hills bordering upon the lake are said to abound with this sort of sulphureous stone. I saw pieces of it at the convent of St. John, in the wilderness, two feet square. They were carved in basso relievo, and polished to as great a lustre as black marble is capable of, and were designed for the ornament of the new church at the convent. It is a common tradition, that birds attempting to fly over this sea drop down dead into it; and that no fish, nor other sort of animal, can endure these deadly waters. The former report I saw actually confuted, by several birds flying about and over the sea without any visible harm; the latter also I have some reason to suspect as false, having observed amongst the pebbles on the shore two or three shells of fish resembling oyster-shells. These were cast up by the waves, at two hours' distance from the mouth of Jordan; which I mention, lest it should be suspected that they might be brought into the sea that way. As for the bitumen, for which the sea had been so famous, there was none at the place where we were. But it is gathered near the mountains on both sides in great plenty. I had several lumps of it brought me from Jerusalem. It The water of the lake was very limpid, and salt to the highest degree; and not only salt, but also extremely bitter and nauseous. Being willing to make an experiment of its strength, I went into it, and found it bore up my body in swimming with uncommon force. But as for that relation of some authors, that men wading into it were buoyed up to the top, as soon as they go as deep as the navel, I found it, upon experiment, not true. Being desirous to see the remains (if there were any) of those cities anciently situate in this place, and made so dreadful an example of the divine vengeance, I diligently surveyed the waters as far as my eye could reach; but neither could I discern any heaps of ruins, nor any smoke ascending above the surface of the water, as is usually described in the writings and maps of geographers. But yet I must not omit what was confidently attested to me by the father guardian and procurator of Jerusalem, both men in years, and seemingly not destitute either of sense or probity; viz., that they had once actually seen one of these ruins; that it was so near the shore, and the waters so shallow at that time, that they, together with some Frenchmen, went to it, and found there several pillars and other fragments of buildings. The cause of our being deprived of this sight was, I suppose, the height of the water. On the west side of the sea is a small promontory, near which, as our guides told us, stood the monument of Lot's metamorphosed wife; part of which (if they may be credited) is visible at this day. But neither would the present occasion permit us to go and examine the truth of this relation, nor, had the opportunity served, could we give faith enough to their report to induce us to go on such an errand. As for the apples of Sodom, so much talked of, I neither saw nor heard of any hereabouts; nor was there any tree to be seen near the lake from which one might expect such a kind of fruit In our return from the Dead Sea, at about one hour's distance from it, we came to an old ruined Greek convent. There was good part of the church remaining, with several pieces of painting entire; as the figures of several Greek saints, and over the altar the representation of our Lord's Last Supper, with this text of Holy Writ fairly inscribed ??ete f??ete, &c. Hereabout, and also in many other places of the plain, I perceived a strong scent of honey and wax (the sun being very hot); and the bees were very industrious about the blossoms of that salt weed which the plain produces. In about an hour and a half more we returned to our tents and company, at the same place where we slept the night before; and there we spent this night also. Amongst the products of this place I saw a very remarkable fruit, called by the Arabs Za-cho-ne. It grows upon a thorny bush, with small leaves; and both in shape and colour resembles a small unripe walnut. The kernels of this fruit the Arabs bray in a mortar, and then, putting the pulp into scalding water, they skim off an oil which rises to the top. This oil they take inwardly for bruises, and apply it outwardly to green wounds, preferring it before balm of Gilead. I procured a bottle of it, and have found it upon some small trials a very healing medicine. The roses of Jericho were not to be found at this season. March 31.—This morning we all decamped at half an hour after two, and returning the same way by which we came, arrived in about six hours near the walls of Jerusalem. Our company did not think fit to enter the city, resolving to go immediately to Bethlehem; in order to which we turned down into the valley of Jehoshaphat; and so, passing by the city, instantly took the road to the place intended. From Jerusalem to Bethlehem is but two hours' travel. The country through which the road lies is the valley of Rephaim, as may be gathered from Josephus Being arrived at Bethlehem, we immediately made a circular visit to all the holy places belonging to it, as namely, the place where it is said our blessed Lord was born; the manger in which it is said he was laid; the chapel of St. Joseph, his supposed father; that of the Innocents; those of St. Jerom, of St. Paula and Eustochium, and of Eusebius of Cremona; and lastly, the school of St. Jerom; all which places it shall suffice just to name. From the top of the church we had a large prospect of the adjacent country. The most remarkable places in view were Tekoah, situate on the side of a hill about nine miles distant to the southward; Engedi, distant about three miles eastward; and somewhat farther off, the same way, a high, sharp hill called the mountain of the Franks, because defended by a party of the crusaders forty years after the loss of Jerusalem. April 1.—This morning we went to see some remarkable places in the neighbourhood of Bethlehem. The first place that we directed our course to was those famous fountains, pools, and gardens, about one hour and a quarter distant from Bethlehem southward, said to have been the contrivance and delight of king Solomon. To these works and places of pleasure As for the pools, they are three in number, lying in a row above each other, being so disposed that the waters of the uppermost may descend into the second, and those of the second into the third. Their figure is quadrangular. The breadth is the same in all, amounting to about ninety paces. In their length there is some difference between them, the first being about one hundred and sixty paces long, the second two hundred, the third two hundred and twenty. They are all lined with wall, and plastered, and contain a great depth of water. Close by the pools is a pleasant castle of a modern structure; and at about the distance of one hundred and forty paces from them is the fountain from which, principally, they derive their waters. This the friars will have to be that "sealed fountain" to which the holy spouse is compared You find here four places at which the water rises. From those separate sources it is conveyed, by little rivulets, into a kind of basin; and from thence is carried, by a large subterraneous passage, down into the pools. In the way, before it arrives at the pools, there is an aqueduct of brick pipes, which receives part of the stream, and carries it, by many turnings and windings about the mountains, to Jerusalem. Below the pools there runs down a narrow, rocky valley, inclosed on both sides with high mountains. This the friars From these memorials of Solomon we returned towards Bethlehem again, in order to visit some places nearer home. The places we saw were, the field where it is said the shepherds were watching their flocks when they received the glad tidings of the birth of Christ; and, not far from the field, the village where they dwelt; and a little on the right hand of the village, an old desolate nunnery built by St. Paula, and made the more memorable by her dying in it. These places are all within about half a mile of the convent, eastward; and with these we finished this morning's work. Having seen what is usually visited on the south and east of Bethlehem, we walked out after dinner to the westward, to see what was remarkable on that side. The first place we were guided to was the well of David, so called because held to be the same that David so passionately thirsted after About two furlongs beyond this well are to be seen some remains of an old aqueduct, which anciently conveyed the waters from Solomon's pools to Jerusalem. This is said to be the genuine work of Solomon, and may well be allowed to be in reality what it is pretended for. It is carried all along upon the surface of the ground, and is composed of stones ... feet square, and ... thick, perforated with a cavity of ... inches diameter, to make the channel. These stones are let into each other, with a fillet framed round about the cavity to prevent leakage, and united to each other with so Returning from this place, we went to see the Greek and Armenian convents, which are contiguous to that of the Latins, and have each their several doors opening into the chapel of the holy manger. The next place we went to see was the grotto of the blessed Virgin. It is within thirty or forty yards of the convent, and is reverenced upon the account of a tradition that the blessed Virgin here hid herself and her divine babe from the fury of Herod for some time before their departure into Egypt. The grot is hollowed into a chalky rock; but this whiteness they will have to be not natural, but to have been occasioned by some miraculous drops of the blessed Virgin's milk, which fell from her breast while she was suckling the holy infant; and so much are they possessed with this opinion, that they believe the chalk of this grotto has a miraculous virtue for increasing women's milk; and I was assured, from many hands, that it is very frequently taken by the women hereabouts, as well Turks and Arabs as Christians, for that purpose, and that with very good effect; which perhaps may be true enough, it being well known how much fancy is wont to do in things of this nature. April 2.—The next morning, presenting the guardian with two chequeens apiece for his civilities to us, we took our leave of Bethlehem, designing just to visit the wilderness and convent of St. John the Baptist, and so return to Jerusalem. In this stage we first crossed part of that famous valley in which it is said that the angel, in one night, did such prodigious execution in the army of Sennacherib. Having travelled about half an hour, we came to a village called Booteshellah, concerning which they relate this remarkable property, that no Turk can live in it above two years. By A little beyond this fountain we came to that which they call the village of St. Philip, at which, ascending a very steep hill, we arrived at the wilderness of St. John. A wilderness it is called, as being very rocky and mountainous: but is well cultivated, and produces plenty of corn, and vines, and olive trees. After a good hour's travel in this wilderness, we came to the cave and fountain where, as they say, the Baptist exercised those severe austerities related of him Having done with this place, we directed our course towards the convent of St. John, which is about a league distant eastward. In our way we passed along one side of the valley of Elah, where David slew the giant, that defier of the army of Israel Being come near the convent, we were led a little out of the way to visit a place which they call the house of Elizabeth, the mother of the Baptist. This was formerly a convent also, but it is now a heap of ruins, and the only remarkable place left in it is a grotto, in which (you are told) it was that the blessed Virgin saluted Elizabeth, and pronounced her divine magnificat The present convent of St. John, which is now inhabited, stands about three furlongs distance from this house of Elizabeth, and is supposed to be built at the place where St. John was born. If you chance to ask how it came to pass that Elizabeth lived in one house when she was big with the Baptist, and in another when she brought him forth, the answer you are like to receive is, that the former was her country, the latter her city habitation, and that it is no wonder for a wife of one of the priests of better rank, such as she was The convent of St. John has been, within these four years, rebuilt from the ground. It is at present a large square building, uniform and neat all over; but that which is most eminently beautiful in it is its church. It consists of three aisles, and has in the middle a handsome cupola, under which is a pavement of mosaic, equal to, if not exceeding, the finest works of the ancients of that kind. At the upper end of the north aisle you go down seven marble steps, to a very splendid altar, erected over the very place where they say the holy Baptist was born. Here are artificers still employed in adding farther beauty and ornament to this convent, and yet it has been so expensive a work already, that the friars themselves give out that there is not a stone laid in it but has cost them a dollar; which, considering the large sums exacted by the Turks for licence to begin fabrics of this nature, and also their perpetual extortion and avarrias afterwards, besides the necessary charge of building, may be allowed to pass for no extravagant hyperbole. Returning from St. John's toward Jerusalem, we came in about three quarters of an hour to a convent of the Greeks, taking its name from the holy cross. This convent is very After our return, we were invited into the convent to have our feet washed, a ceremony performed to each pilgrim by the father guardian himself. The whole society stands around, singing some Latin hymns, all the while the father guardian is doing his office; and when he has done, every friar comes in order, and kisses the feet of the pilgrim. All this was performed with great order and solemnity; and if it served either to testify a sincere humility and charity in them, or to improve those excellent graces in others, it might pass for no unuseful ceremony. April 3.—We went about mid-day to see the function of the Holy Fire Coming to the church of the Holy Sepulchre, we found it crowded with a numerous and distracted mob, making a hideous clamour very unfit for that sacred place, and better becoming Bacchanals than Christians. Getting with some struggle through the crowd, we went up into the gallery on that side of the church next the Latin convent, whence we could discern all that passed in this religious frenzy. They began their disorders by running round the holy sepulchre with all their might and swiftness, crying out, as they went, "Huia!" which signifies "this is he," or "this is it," an expression by which they assert the verity of the Christian religion. After they had, by these vertiginous circulations and clamours, turned their heads and inflamed their In this tumultuous frantic humour they continued from twelve till four o'clock: the reason of which delay was, because of a suit that was then in debate before the cadi, betwixt the Greeks and Armenians, the former endeavouring to exclude the latter from having any share in this miracle. Both parties having expended, as I was informed, five thousand dollars between them in this foolish controversy, the cadi at last gave sentence that they should enter the holy sepulchre together, as had been usual at former times. Sentence being thus given, at four o'clock both nations went on with their ceremony. The Greeks first set out, in a procession round the holy sepulchre, and immediately at their heels followed the Armenians. In this order they compassed the holy sepulchre thrice, having produced all their gallantry of standards, streamers, crucifixes, and embroidered habits upon this occasion. Towards the end of this procession, there was a pigeon came fluttering into the cupola over the sepulchre, at sight of which there was a greater shout and clamour than before. This bird, the Latins told us, was purposely let fly by the Greeks, to deceive the people into an opinion that it was a visible descent of the Holy Ghost. The procession being over, the suffragan of the Greek patriarch (he being himself at Constantinople), and the principal Armenian bishop, approached to the door of the sepulchre, and, cutting the string with which it is fastened and sealed, entered in, shutting the door after them, all the candles and lamps within having been before extinguished, in the presence of the Turks and other witnesses. The exclamations were doubled as the miracle drew nearer to its accomplishment, and the people pressed with such vehemence towards the door of the sepulchre, that it was not in the power of the The two miracle-mongers had not been above a minute in the holy sepulchre, when the glimmering of the holy fire was seen, or imagined to appear, through some chinks of the door; and certainly Bedlam itself never saw such an unruly transport as was produced in the mob at this sight. Immediately after, out came the two priests with blazing torches in their hands, which they held up at the door of the sepulchre, while the people thronged about with inexpressible ardour, every one striving to obtain a part of the first and purest flame. The Turks, in the meantime, with huge clubs, laid on them without mercy; but all this could not repel them, the excess of their transport making them insensible of pain. Those that got the fire applied it immediately to their beards, faces, and bosoms, pretending that it would not burn like an earthly flame. But I plainly saw none of them could endure this experiment long enough to make good that pretension. So many hands being employed, you may be sure it could not be long before innumerable tapers were lighted. The whole church, galleries, and every place, seemed instantly to be in a flame, and with this illumination the ceremony ended. It must be owned, that those two within the sepulchre performed their part with great quickness and dexterity; but the behaviour of the rabble without very much discredited the miracle. The Latins take a great deal of pains to expose this ceremony, as a most shameful imposture, and a scandal to the Christian religion; perhaps out of envy that others should be masters of so gainful a business. But the Greeks and Armenians pin their faith upon it, and make their pilgrimages chiefly upon this motive. And it is the deplorable unhappiness of their priests, that having acted the cheat so long already, they are forced now to stand to it, for fear of endangering the apostasy of their people. Going out of the church after the rout was over, we saw several people gathered about the stone of unction, who, having got a good store of candles lighted with the holy fire, were Sunday, April 4.—This day being our Easter, we did not go abroad to visit any places, the time requiring an employment of another nature. April 5.—This morning we went to see some more of the curiosities which had been yet unvisited by us. The first place we came to was that which they call St. Peter's prison, from which he was delivered by the angel Leaving this convent we went a little farther to another small church, which was likewise in the hands of the Armenians. This is supposed to be founded in the place where Annas's house stood. Within the church, not far from the door, is shown a hole in the wall, denoting the place where one of the officers of the high priest smote our blessed Saviour From the house of Annas we were conducted out of Sion Gate, which is near adjoining to that which they call the house of Caiaphas, which is another small chapel belonging also to the Armenians. Here, under the altar, they tell us is deposited that very stone which was laid to secure the door of our Saviour's sepulchre A little farther without the gate is the church of the Coenaculum, where they say Christ instituted his Last Supper. It is now a mosque, and not to be seen by Christians. Near this is a well, which is said to mark out the place at which the Apostles divided from each other, in order to go every man to his several charge; and close by the well are the ruins of a house in which the blessed Virgin is supposed to have breathed her last. Going eastward, a little way down the hill, we were shown the place where a Jew arrested the corpse of the blessed Virgin, as she was carried to her interment, for which impious presumption he had his hand withered wherewith he had seized the bier. About as much lower in the middle of the hill, they show you the grotto in which St. Peter wept so bitterly for his inconstancy to his Lord. We extended our circuit no farther at this time, but entered the city again at Sion Gate. Turning down as soon as we had entered, on the right hand, and going about two furlongs close by the city wall, we were taken into a garden lying at the foot of Mount Moriah, on the south side. Here we were shown several large vaults annexed to the mountain on this side, and running at least fifty yards under ground. They were built in two isles, arched at top with huge firm stone, and sustained with tall pillars consisting each of one single stone, and two yards in diameter. This might possibly be some under-ground work made to enlarge the area of the temple, for Josephus seems to describe some such work as this, erected over the valley on this side of the temple From these vaults we returned towards the convent. In our way we passed through the Turkish bazaars, and took a view of the Beautiful Gate of the Temple. But we could but just view it in passing, it not being safe to stay here long, by reason of the superstition of the Turks. April 6.—The next morning we took another progress about the city. We made our exit at Bethlehem Gate, and turning down on the left hand under the castle of the Pisans, came about a furlong and a half to that which they call Bathsheba's Pool. It lies at the bottom of Mount Sion, and is supposed to be the same in which Bathsheba was washing herself, when David spied her from the terrace of his palace. But others refer this accident to another lesser pool in a garden just within Bethlehem Gate; and perhaps both opinions are equally right. A little below this pool begins the valley of Hinnom, on the west side of which is the place called anciently the Potter's Field, and afterwards the Field of Blood, from its being purchased with the pieces of silver which were the price of the blood of Christ; but at present, from that veneration which it has obtained among Christians, it is called Campo Sancto. It is a small plot of ground not above thirty yards long, and about half as much broad. One moiety of it is taken up by a square fabric twelve yards high, built for a charnel-house. The corpses are let down into it from the top, there being five holes left open for that purpose. Looking down through these holes we could see many bodies under several degrees of decay, from which it may be conjectured that this grave does not make that quick despatch with the corpses committed to it, which is commonly reported. The Armenians have the command of this burying place, for which they pay the Turks a rent of one seuin a day. The earth is of a chalky substance hereabouts. A little below the Campo Sancto is shown an intricate cave or sepulchre consisting of several rooms, one within another, in which the apostles are said to have hid themselves, when they forsook their Master, and fled. The entrance of the cave discovers signs of its having been adorned with painting in ancient times. A little farther, the valley of Hinnom terminates, that of Jehoshaphat running across the mouth of it. Along the bottom of this latter valley runs the brook Cedron; a brook in wintertime, but without the least drop of water in it all the time we were at Jerusalem. In the valley of Jehoshaphat, the first thing you are carried to is the well of Nehemiah; so called because reputed to be the same place from which the restorer of Israel recovered Upon the edge of the hill, on the opposite side of the valley, there runs along, in a direct line, the wall of the city, near the corner of which there is a short end of a pillar jutting out of the wall. Upon this pillar, the Turks have a tradition that Mohammed shall sit in judgment at the last day; and that all the world shall be gathered together in the valley below, to receive their doom from his mouth. A little farther northward is the gate of the Temple. It is at present walled up, because the Turks here have a prophecy that their destruction shall enter at that gate, the completion of which prediction they endeavour by this means to prevent. Below this gate, in the bottom of the valley, is a broad hard stone, discovering several impressions on it, which you may fancy to be footsteps. These, the friars tell you, are prints made by our blessed Saviour's feet, when, after his apprehension, he was From hence, keeping still in the bottom of the valley, you come in a few paces to a place which they call the sepulchre of the blessed Virgin. It has a magnificent descent down into it of forty-seven stairs; on the right hand as you go down is the sepulchre of St. Anna, the mother, and on the left that of St. Joseph, the husband of the blessed Virgin. Having finished our visit to this place, we went up the hill toward the city. In the side of the ascent we were shown a broad stone on which they say St. Stephen suffered martyrdom; and not far from it is a grotto, into which they tell you the outrageous Jewish zealots cast his body, when they had satiated their fury upon him. From hence we went immediately to St. Stephen's Gate, so called from its vicinity to this place of the protomartyr's suffering, and so returned to our lodging. April 7.—The next morning we set out again, in order to see the sanctuaries and other visitable places upon Mount Olivet. We went out at St. Stephen's Gate, and, crossing the Valley of Jehoshaphat, began immediately to ascend the mountains. Being got about two-thirds of the way up, we came to certain grottos cut with intricate windings and caverns under ground; these are called the sepulchres of the prophets. A little higher up are twelve arched vaults under ground, standing side by side; these were built in memory of the twelve apostles, who are said to have compiled their creed in this place. Sixty paces higher you come to the place where they say Christ uttered his prophecy concerning the final destruction of Jerusalem About two furlongs from this place, northward, is the highest part of Mount Olivet; and upon that was anciently erected a high tower, in memory of that apparition of the two angels to the apostles after our blessed Lord's ascension From this place we descended the mount again by another road. At about the midway down they show you the place where Christ beheld the city and wept over it About twenty yards lower they show you Gethsemane, an even plot of ground not above fifty-seven yards square, lying between the foot of Mount Olivet and the brook Cedron. It is well planted with olive trees, and those of so old a growth, that they are believed to be the same that stood here in our blessed Saviour's time, in virtue of which persuasion the olives, and olive stones, and oil, which they produce, became an excellent commodity in Spain; but that these trees cannot be so At the upper corner of the garden is a flat, naked ledge of rock, reputed to be the place on which the apostles, Peter, James, and John, fell asleep during the agony of our Lord; and a few paces from hence is a grotto, said to be the place in which Christ underwent that bitter part of his passion. About eight paces from the place where the apostles slept is a small shred of ground, twelve yards long and one broad, supposed to be the very path on which the traitor Judas walked up to Christ, saying "Hail Master, and kissed him." This narrow path is separated by a wall out of the midst of the garden, as a terra damnata, a work the more remarkable as being done by the Turks, who, as well as Christians, detest the very ground on which was acted such an infamous treachery. From hence we crossed the brook Cedron, close by the reputed sepulchre of the blessed Virgin, and, entering at St. Stephen's Gate, returned again to the convent. April 8.—We went to see the palace of Pilate, I mean the place where they say it stood; for now an ordinary Turkish house possesses its room. It is not far from the gate of St. Stephen, and borders upon the area of the temple on the north side. From the terrace of this house you have a fair prospect of all the place where the temple stood; indeed the only good prospect that is allowed you of it; for there is no going within the borders of it without forfeiting your life, or, which is worse, your religion. A fitter place for an august building could not be found in the whole world than this area. It lies upon the top of Mount Moriah, over against Mount Olivet, the valley of Jehoshaphat lying between both mountains. It is, as far as I could compute by walking round it without, five hundred and seventy of my paces in length, and three hundred and seventy in breadth; and one may still discern marks of the great labour that it cost to cut away the hard rock, and to level such a spacious area upon so strong a mountain. In the middle of the area stands, at present, a In this pretended house of Pilate is shown the room in which Christ was mocked with the ensigns of royalty and buffeted by the soldiers. At the coming out of the house is a descent, where was anciently the scala sancta. On the other side of the street (which was anciently part of the palace also) is the room where they say our Lord was scourged. It was once used for a stable by the son of a certain pasha of Jerusalem; but presently, for this profanation, they say there came such a mortality amongst his horses as forced him to resign the place; by which means it was redeemed from that sordid use; but, nevertheless, when we were there, it was no better than a weaver's shop. In our return from Pilate's palace we passed along the Dolorous Way, in which walk we were shown in order, first, the place where Pilate brought our Lord forth, to present to the people, with this mystic saying, "Behold the Man!" secondly, where Christ fainted thrice under the weight of his cross; thirdly, where the blessed Virgin swooned away at so tragical a spectacle; fourthly, where St. Veronica presented to him the handkerchief to wipe his bleeding brows; fifthly, where the soldiers compelled Simon the Cyrenian to bear his cross; all which places I need only to name. April 9.—We went to take a view of that which they call the pool of Bethesda. It is one hundred and twenty paces long, and forty broad, and at least eight deep, but void of water. At its west end it discovers some old arches, now dammed up. These some will have to be the five porches in which sat that multitude of lame, halt, and blind From hence we went to the convent or nunnery of St. Anne. The church here is large and entire, and so are part of the lodgings; but both are desolate and neglected. In a This was our morning's work. In the afternoon we went to see Mount Gihon, and the pool of the same name. It lies about two furlongs without Bethlehem Gate, westward. It is a stately pool, one hundred and sixty paces long and sixty-seven broad, and lined with wall and plaster, and was, when we were there, well stored with water. April 10.—We went to take our leaves of the holy sepulchre, this being the last time it was to be opened this festival. Upon this finishing day, and the night following, the Turks allow free admittance for all people, without demanding any fee for entrance as at other times, calling it a day of charity. By this promiscuous licence they let in not only the poor, but, as I was told, the lewd and vicious also, who come thither to get convenient opportunity for prostitution, profaning the holy places in such manner (as it is said) that they were not worse defiled even when the heathens here celebrated their aphrodisia. Sunday, April 11.—Now began the Turks' Byram, that is the feast which they celebrate after their Lent, called by them Ramadan. This being a time of great libertinism among the rabble, we thought it prudent to confine ourselves to our lodgings for some time, to the end that we might avoid such insolences as are usual in such times of public festivity. Our confinement was the less incommodious, because there was hardly any thing, either within or about the city, which we had not already visited. April 12, 13.—We kept close to our quarters, but, however, not in idleness; the time being now come when we were to contrive and provide things in order for our departure. We had a bad account, from all hands, of the country's being more and more embroiled by the Arabs, which made us somewhat unresolved what way and method to take for our return; but during our suspense it was told us that the mosolem was April 14.—We went, with a small present in our hands, to wait upon the mosolem, in order to inquire the time of his departure and acquaint him with our desire to go under his protection. He assured us of his setting out the next morning; so we immediately took our leaves in order to prepare ourselves for accompanying him. I was willing, before our departure, to measure the circuit of the city; so, taking one of the friars with me, I went out in the afternoon in order to pace the walls round. We went out at Bethlehem Gate; and, proceeding on the right hand, came about to the same gate again. I found the whole city 4630 paces in circumference, which I computed thus:—
The reduction of my paces to yards is by casting away a tenth part, ten of my paces making nine yards; by which reckoning the 4630 paces amount to 4167 yards, which make just two miles and a half. April 15.—This morning our diplomata were presented us by the father guardian, to certify our having visited all the holy places; and we presented the convent fifty dollars a man as a gratuity for their trouble; which offices having passed betwixt us, we took our leaves. We set out together with the mosolem, and, proceeding in the same road by which we came, lodged the first night at Khan Leban; but the mosolem left us here, and continued his stage as far as Naplosa; so we saw him no more. The country people were now every where at plough in the fields, April 16.—Leaving Khan Leban, we proceeded still in our former road, and, passing by Naplosa and Samaria, we came to the fountain Selee, and there took up our lodging this night. April 17.—The next morning we continued on in the same road that we travelled when outward bound, till we came to Caphar Arab. At this place we left our former way, and, instead of turning off on the left hand to go to Acra, we kept our course strait forwards, resolving to cross directly athwart the plain of Esdraelon, and to visit Nazareth. Proceeding in this course from Caphar Arab, we came in about half an hour to Jeneen. This is a large old town, on the skirts of Esdraelon. It has in it an old castle and two mosques, and is the chief residence of the emir Chibly. Here we were accosted with a command from the emir not to advance any farther, till he should come in person to receive of us his caphars. This was very unwelcome news to us, who had met with a trial of his civility before. But, however, we had no remedy, and therefore thought it best to comply as contentedly as we could. Having been kept thus in suspense from two in the morning till sun-set, we then received an order from the prince to pay the caphar to an officer, whom he sent to receive it and dismiss us. Having received this licence, we made all the haste we could to despatch the caphar, and to get clear of these Arabs. But, notwithstanding all our diligence, it was near midnight before we could finish. After which we departed, and, entering immediately into the plain of Esdraelon, travelled over it all night, and in seven hours reached its other side. Here we had a very steep and rocky ascent; but, however, in half an hour we mastered it, and arrived at Nazareth. Sunday, April 18.—Nazareth is at present only an inconsiderable village, situated in a kind of round concave valley, on the top of a high hill. We were entertained at the convent built over the place of the Annunciation. At this place are, as it were, immured, seven or eight Latin fathers, who live a life truly mortified, being perpetually in fear of the Arabs, who are absolute lords of the country. We went in the afternoon to visit the sanctuary of this place. The church of Nazareth stands in a cave supposed to be the place where the blessed Virgin received that joyful message of the angel, "Hail thou that art highly favoured," After this we went to see the house of Joseph, being the same, as they tell you, in which the Son of God lived for near April 19.—This day we destined for visiting Mount Tabor, standing by itself in the plain of Esdraelon, about two or three furlongs within the plain. Its being situated in such a separate manner, has induced most authors to conclude that this must needs be that holy mountain, as St. Peter styles it After a very laborious ascent, which took up near an hour, we reached the highest part of the mountain. It has a plain area at top, most fertile and delicious, of an oval figure, extending about one furlong in breadth, and two in length. This area is inclosed with trees on all parts, except toward the south. It was anciently environed with walls and trenches, and other fortifications, of which it exhibits many remains at this day. In this area there are in several places cisterns of good water; but those which are most devoutly visited are three contiguous grottos, made to represent the three tabernacles which St. Peter proposed to erect, in the astonishment that possessed him at the glory of the Transfiguration. "Lord," says he, "it is good for us to be here; let us make three tabernacles, one for thee," &c. I cannot forbear to mention, in this place, an observation which is very obvious to all that visit the Holy Land, viz. that almost all passages and histories related in the Gospel From the top of Tabor you have a prospect which, if nothing else, well rewards the labour of ascending it. It is impossible for man's eyes to behold a higher gratification of this nature. On the north-west, you discern at a distance the Mediterranean; and all around you have the spacious and beautiful plains of Esdraelon and Galilee, which present you with the view of so many places memorable for the resort and miracles of the Son of God. At the bottom of Tabor westward stands Daberah, a small village, supposed by some to take its name from Deborah, that famous judge and deliverer of Israel. Near this valley is the fountain of Kishon. Not many leagues distant eastward, you see Mount Hermon, at the foot of which is seated Nain, famous for our Lord's raising the widow's son there Having received great satisfaction in the sight of this mountain, we returned to the convent the same way that we came. After dinner we made another small excursion, in order to see that which they call the Mountain of the Precipitation; that is, the brow of the hill from which the Nazarites would have thrown down our blessed Saviour, being incensed at his sermon preached to them April 20.—The next morning we took our leave of Nazareth, presenting the guardian five a-piece for his trouble and charge in entertaining us. We directed our course for Acra, in order to which, going at first northward, we crossed the hills that encompassed the vale of Nazareth on that side; after which we turned to the westward, and passed in view of Cana of Galilee, the place signalized with the beginning of Christ's miracles At Sephira begins the delicious plain of Zebulon. We were an hour and a half in crossing it, and in an hour and a half more passed by a desolate village on the right hand, by name Satyra. In half an hour more we entered the plains of Acra, and in one hour and a half more arrived at that place. Our stage, this day, was somewhat less than seven hours. It lay about west and by north, and through a country very delightful, and fertile beyond imagination. April 21.—At Acra we were very courteously treated by the French consul and merchants, as we had been when outward-bound. Having staid only one night, we took our leave, and, returning by the same way of the coast that I have described before, came the first night to our old lodgings at Solomon's cisterns, and the second to Sidon. April 22.—Three hours distant from Sidon, we were carried by the French consul to see a place which we had passed by unregarded in our journey outward, though it very well deserves a traveller's observation. At about the distance of a mile from the sea, there runs along a high rocky mountain, in the side of which are hewn a multitude of grottos, all very little differing from each other. They have entrances of about two feet square. On the inside you find in most, or all of them, a room of about four yards square, on the one side of which is the door, on the other there are as many little cells, elevated about two feet above the floor. There are of these subterraneous caverns, as I was informed by those who had counted them, two hundred in number. They go by the name of the grottos of.... The great doubt concerning them is, whether they were made for the dead or the living. That which makes me doubt of this is, because, though all the ancient sepulchres in this country very much resemble these grottos, yet they have something peculiar in them, which entices one to believe they might be designed for the reception of the living; for several of the cells within were of a figure not fit for having corpses deposited in them, being some a yard square, some more, and some less, and seeming to be made for family uses. Over the door of every cell there was a channel cut to convey the water away, that it might not annoy the rooms within. And because the cells were cut above each other, some higher, some lower, in the side of the rock, there were convenient stairs cut for the easier communication betwixt the upper and lower regions. At the bottom of the rock were also several old cisterns for storing up water. From all which arguments it may, with probability at least, be concluded, that these places were contrived for the use of the living, and not of the dead. But what sort of people they were that inhabited this subterraneous city, or how long ago they lived, I am not able to resolve. True it is, Strabo describes the habitations of the Troglodyte to have been somewhat of this kind. April 23.—We continued this day at Sidon, being treated by our friends of the French nation with great generosity. April 24.—This morning we took our leave of the worthy French consul, and the rest of our other friends of that nation, in order to go for Damascus. Damascus lies near due east from Sidon. It is usually esteemed three days' journey distant, the road lying over the mountain Libanus and Anti-Libanus. Having gone about half an hour through the olive yards of Sidon, we came to the foot of Mount Libanus. In two April 25.—The next day we continued ascending for three good hours, and then arrived at the highest ridge of the mountain, where the snow lay close to the road. We began immediately to descend again on the other side, and in two hours came to a small village called Meshgarah, where there gushes out at once from the side of the mountain a plentiful stream, which falling down into a valley below makes a fine brook, and, after a current of about two leagues, loses itself in a river called Letane. At Meshgarah there is a caphar Having gone one hour beyond Meshgarah, we got clear of the mountain, and entered into a valley called Bocat. This Bocat seems to be the same with Bicath Aven, mentioned in Amos i. 5, together with Eden and Damascus, for there is very near it, in Mount Libanus, a place called Eden to this day. It might also have the name of Aven, that is, Vanity, given to it, from the idolatrous worship of Baal, practised at Balbec, or Heliopolis, which is situate in this valley. The valley is about two hours over, and in length extends several days' journey, lying near north-east and south-west. It is inclosed on both sides with two parallel mountains, exactly resembling each other, the one that which we lately passed over between this and Sidon, the other opposite against it, towards Damascus. The former I take to be the true Libanus, the latter Anti-Libanus, which two mountains are nowhere so well distinguished as at this valley. In the bottom of the valley there runs a large river called Letane. It rises about two days' journey northward, not far from Balbec, and, keeping its course all down the valley, falls Thus far our course had been due east, but here we inclined some points towards the north. Crossing obliquely over the valley, we came in half an hour to a bridge over the river Letane. It consists of five stone arches, and is called Kor Aren, from a village at a little distance of the same name. At this bridge we crossed the river, and, having travelled about an hour and a half on its bank, pitched our tents there for this night. Our whole stage was eight hours. April 26.—The next morning we continued our oblique course over the valley Bocat. In an hour we passed close by a small village called Jib Jeneen, and in three quarters of an hour more came to the foot of the mountain Anti-Libanus. Here we had an easy ascent, and in half an hour passed, on our right hand, by a village called Uzzi. In three quarters of an hour more we arrived at Ayta, a village of Christians of the Greek communion. At this last place the road began to grow very rocky and troublesome, in which having travelled an hour we arrived at a small rivulet called Ayn Tentloe. Here we entered into a narrow cleft between two rocky mountains, passing through which we arrived in four hours at Demass, gently descending all the way. At Demass a small caphar 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 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 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 In passing between the gardens we also observed their method of scouring the channels. They put a great bough of a tree in the water, and fasten to it a yoke of oxen. Upon the bough there sits a good weighty fellow, to press it down to the bottom and to drive the oxen. In this equipage the bough is dragged all along the channel, and serves at once both to cleanse the bottom, and also to mud and fatten the water for the greater benefit of the gardens. Entering at the east gate, we went immediately to the convent, and were very courteously received by the guardian, father Raphael, a Majorkine by birth, and a person who, though he has dedicated himself to the contemplative life, yet is not unfit for any affairs of the active. April 28.—This morning we walked out to take a view of the city. The first place we went to visit was the house of an eminent Turk. The streets here are narrow, as is usual in hot countries, and the houses are all built, on the outside, of no better a material than either sun-burnt brick or Flemish wall, daubed over in as coarse a manner as can be seen in the vilest cottages. From this dirty way of building they have this amongst other inconveniences, that upon any violent rain the whole city becomes, by the washing of the houses, as it were a quagmire. It may be wondered what should induce the people to build in this base manner when they have, in the adjacent mountains, such plenty of good stone for noble fabrics. I can give no reason for it, unless this may pass for such, that those who first planted here, finding so delicious a situation, were in haste to come to the enjoyment of it; and therefore nimbly set up those extemporary habitations, being unwilling to defer But, however, in these mud walls you find the gates and doors adorned with marble portals, carved and inlaid with great beauty and variety. It is an object not a little surprising to see mud and marble, state and sordidness, so mingled together. In the inside the houses discover a very different face from what you see without. Here you find generally a large square court, beautified with a variety of fragrant trees and marble fountains, and compassed round with splendid apartments and divans. The divans are floored and adorned on the sides with variety of marble, mixed in mosaic knots and mazes. The ceilings and traves are, after the Turkish manner, richly painted and gilded. They have generally artificial fountains springing up before them in marble basins; and, as for carpets and cushions, are furnished out to the height of luxury. Of these divans they have generally several on all sides of the court, being placed at such different points that, at one or other of them, you may always have either the shade or the sun, which you please. Such as I have described was the house we went to see; and I was told the rest resemble the same description. In the next place we went to see the church of St. John the Baptist, now converted into a mosque, and held too sacred for Christians to enter, or almost to look into. However we had three short views of it, looking in at three several gates. Its gates are vastly large, and covered with brass, stamped all over with Arab characters, and in several places with the figure of a chalice, supposed to be the ancient ensigns or arms of the Mamelukes. On the north side of the church is a spacious court, which I could not conjecture to be less than one hundred and fifty yards long and eighty or one hundred broad. The court is paved all over, and inclosed on the south side by the church, on the other three sides by a double cloister, supported by two rows of granite pillars of the Corinthian order, exceedingly lofty and beautiful. On the south side the church joins to the bazaars; and there we had an opportunity just to peep into it. It is, within, spacious and lofty, built with three aisles, between which are rows of polished pillars of surpassing beauty, unless, In this church are kept the head of St. John, and some other relics esteemed so holy that it is death even for a Turk to presume to go into the room where they are kept. We are told here, by a Turk of good fashion, that Christ was to descend into this mosque at the day of judgment, as Mohammed was to do into that of Jerusalem; but the ground and reason of this tradition I could not learn. From the church we went to the castle, which stands about two furlongs distant towards the west. It is a good building of the rustic manner. In length it is three hundred and forty paces, and in breadth somewhat less. We were admitted but just within the gate, where we saw store of ancient arms and armour, the spoils of the Christians in former times. Amongst the artillery was an old Roman balista; but this was a place not long to be gazed upon by such as we were. At the east end of the castle there hangs down, in the middle of the wall, a short chain cut in stone, of what use I know not, unless to boast the skill of the artificer. Leaving this place, we went to view the bazaars, which we found crowded with people, but destitute of any thing else worth observing. April 29.—Very early this morning we went to see the yearly great pomp of the hadgees setting out on their pilgrimage to Mecca In this famous cavalcade there came, first, forty-six dellees, that is religious madmen, carrying each a silk streamer, mixed either of red and green, or of yellow and green; after these came three troops of segmen, an order of soldiers amongst the Turks; and next to them some troops of saphees, another order of soldiery. These were followed by eight companies of Mugrubines (so the Turks call the Barbaroses) on foot. These were fellows of a very formidable aspect, and were designed to be left in a garrison, maintained by the Turks somewhere in the desert of Arabia, and relieved every year with fresh men. In the midst of the Mugrubines there Having observed what we could of this show, which perhaps was never seen by Franks before, we went to view some other curiosities. The first place we came to was the Ager Damascenus, a long, beautiful meadow, just without the city on the west side. It is divided in the middle by that branch of the river Barrady which supplies the city, and is taken notice of because of a tradition current here that Adam was made of the earth of this field. Adjoining the Ager Damascenus is a large hospital. It has within it a pleasant square court, inclosed on the south side by a stately mosque, and on its other sides by cloisters and lodgings of no contemptible structure. Returning from hence homeward, we were shown, by the In the afternoon we went to visit the house which, they say, was some time the house of Ananias, the restorer of sight to St. Paul Our next walk was out of the east gate, in order to see the place (they say) of St. Paul's vision, and what else is observable on that side. The place of the vision is about half a mile distant from the city eastward. It is close by the wayside, and has no building to distinguish it, nor do I believe it ever had; only there is a small rock or heap of gravel which serves to point out the place. About two furlongs nearer the city is a small timber structure, resembling the cage of a country borough. Within it is an altar erected. There, you are told, the holy apostle rested for some time in his way to this city after his vision Being returned to the city, we were shown the gate at which St. Paul was let down in a basket 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 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
A gentleman in our company, and myself, have reason to remember this place, for an escape we had in it. A drunken janissary, passing under the window where we were, chanced to have a drop of wine thrown out upon his vest, upon which innocent provocation he presented his pistol at us in at the window; had it gone off, it must have been fatal to one or both of us, who sat next the place. But it pleased God to restrain his fury. This evening we returned again to Damascus. May 3.—This morning we went to see the street called Straight In the afternoon, having presented the convent with ten per man for our kind reception, we took our leaves of Damascus, and shaped our course for Tripoli; designing in the way to see Balbec, and the cedars of Libanus. In order to this, we returned the same way by which we came, and, crossing the river Barrady again at the bridge of Dummar, came to a village of the same name a little farther, May 4.—This morning we left our old road, and took another more northerly. In an hour and a half we came to a small village called Sinie; just by which is an ancient structure on the top of a high hill, supposed to be the tomb of Abel, and to have given the adjacent country in old times the name of Abilene. The fratricide also is said by some to have been committed in this place. The tomb is thirty yards long, and yet it is here believed to have been but just proportioned to the stature of him who was buried in it. Here we entered into a narrow gut, between two steep rocky mountains, the river Barrady running at the bottom. On the other side of the river were several tall pillars, which excited our curiosity to go and take a nearer view of them. We found them part of the front of some ancient and very magnificent edifice, but of what kind we could not conjecture. We continued upon the banks of Barrady, and came in three hours to a village called Maday; and in two hours more to a fountain called Ain-il-Hawra, where we lodged. Our whole stage was somewhat less than seven hours; our course nearly north-west. May 5.—This morning we passed by the fountain of Barrady, and came in an hour and two-thirds to a village called Surgawich. At this place we left the narrow valley, in which we had travelled ever since the morning before, and ascended the mountain on the left hand. Having spent in crossing it two hours, we arrived a second time in the valley of Bocat; here, steering northerly, directly up the valley, we arrived in three hours at Balbec. Our stage this day was near seven hours, and our course near about west. At Balbec we pitched at a place less than half a mile distant from the town, eastward, near a plentiful and delicious fountain, which grows immediately into a brook; and running down to Balbec, adds no small pleasure and convenience to the place. In the afternoon we walked out to see the city. But we thought fit before we entered to get licence of the governor, and to proceed with all caution; being taught this necessary care by the example of some worthy English gentlemen of our factory, who, visiting this place in the year 1689, in their return from Jerusalem, and suspecting no mischief, were Balbec is supposed to be the ancient Heliopolis, or City of the Sun; for that the word imports. Its present Arab, which is perhaps its most ancient name, inclines to the same importance. For Baal, though it imports all idols in general, of whatsoever sex or condition, yet it is very often appropriated to the sun, the sovereign idol of this country. The city enjoys a most delightful and commodious situation, on the east side of the valley of Bocat. It is of a square figure, compassed with a tolerable good wall, in which are towers all round at equal distances. It extends, as far as I could guess by the eye, about two furlongs on a side. Its houses within are all of the meanest structure, such as are usually seen in Turkish villages. At the south-west side of this city is a noble ruin, being the only curiosity for which this place is wont to be visited. It was anciently a heathen temple, together with some other edifices belonging to it, all truly magnificent; but in latter times these ancient structures have been patched and pieced up with several other buildings, converting the whole into a castle, under which name it goes at this day. The adjectitious buildings are of no mean architecture, but yet easily distinguishable from what is more ancient. Coming near these ruins, the first thing you meet with is a little round pile of building, all of marble. It is encircled with columns of the Corinthian order, very beautiful, which support a cornice that runs all round the structure, of no ordinary state and beauty. The part of it that remains is at present in a very tottering condition, but yet the Greeks use it for a church; and it were well if the danger of its falling, which perpetually threatens, would excite those people to use a little more fervour in their prayers than they generally do, the Greeks being, seemingly, the most undevout and negligent at their divine service of any sort of people in the Christian world. From this ruin you come to a large firm pile of building, which, though very lofty and composed of huge square stones, yet, I take to be part of the adjectitious work; for one sees in the inside some fragments of images in the walls and stones, with Roman letters upon them, set the wrong way. The temple is an oblong square, in breadth thirty-two yards, and in length sixty-four, of which eighteen were taken up by the p???a?? or ante-temple, which is now tumbled down, the pillars being broke that sustained it. The body of the temple, which now stands, is encompassed with a noble portico, supported by pillars of the Corinthian order, measuring six feet and three inches in diameter, and about forty-five feet in height, consisting all of three stones apiece. The distance of the pillars from each other, and from the wall of the temple, is nine feet. Of these pillars there are fourteen on each side of the temple, and eight at the end, counting the corner pillars in both numbers. On the capitals of the pillars there runs all round a stately architrave and cornice, rarely carved. The portico is covered with large stones hollowed archwise, extending between the columns and the wall of the temple. In the centre of each stone is carved the figure of some one or other of the heathen gods or goddesses, or heroes. I remember amongst the rest a Ganymede, and the eagle flying away with him, so lively done that it excellently represented the sense of that verse in Martial, "IllÆsum timidis unguibus hÆsit onus." The gate of the temple is twenty-one feet wide, but how high could not be measured, it being in part filled up with rubbish. It is moulded and beautified all round with exquisite sculpture. On the nethermost side of the portal is carved a Fame hovering over the head, as you enter, and extending its wings two-thirds of the breadth of the gate; and on each side of the eagle is described a Fame, likewise upon the wing. The eagle carries in its pounces a caduceus, and in his beak the strings or ribbons coming from the ends of two festoons, whose other ends are held and supported on each side by the two Fames. The whole seemed to be a piece of admirable sculpture. The measure of the temple within is forty yards in length, and twenty in breadth. In its walls all round are two rows of pilasters, one above the other; and between the pilasters are niches, which seem to have been designed for the reception About eight yards' distance from the upper end of the temple stands part of two fine channelled pillars, which seem to have made a partition in that place, and to have supported a canopy over the throne of the chief idol, whose station appears to have been in a large niche at this end. On that part of the partition which remains are to be seen carvings in rilievo representing Neptune, Tritons, Fishes, Sea-gods, Arion and his dolphin, and other marine figures. The covering of the whole fabric is totally broken down; but yet this I must say of the whole as it now stands, that it strikes the mind with an air of greatness beyond any thing that I ever saw before, and is an eminent proof of the magnificence of the ancient architecture. About fifty yards distant from the temple is a row of Corinthian pillars, very great and lofty, with a most stately architrave and cornice at top. This speaks itself to have been part of some very august pile; but what one now sees of it is but just enough to give a regret that there should be no more of it remaining. Here is another curiosity of this place, which a man had need be well assured of his credit before he ventures to relate, lest he should be thought to strain the privilege of a traveller too far. That which I mean is a large piece of the old wall, or pe??????, which encompassed all these structures last described. A wall made of such monstrous great stones, that the natives hereabouts (as it is usual in things of this strange nature) ascribe it to the architecture of the devil. Three of the stones, which were larger than the rest, we took the pains to measure, and found them to extend sixty-one yards in length; one twenty-one, the other two each twenty yards. In deepness they were four yards each, and in breadth of the same dimension. These three stones lay in one and the same row, end to end. The rest of the wall was made also of great stones, but none, I think, so great as these. That which added to the wonder was, that these stones were lifted up into the wall more than twenty feet from the ground. In the side of a small ascent, on the east part of the town, stood an old single column, of the Tuscan order, about eighteen or nineteen yards high, and one yard and a half in diameter. It had a channel cut in its side from the bottom At our return to our tents we were a little perplexed by the servants of the mosolem, about our caphar. We were contented at last to judge it at ten per Frank, and five per servant, rather than we would engage in a long dispute at such a place as this. Near the place where we lodged was an old mosque, and (as I said before) a fine fountain. This latter had been anciently beautified with some handsome stone-work round it, which was now almost ruined; however, it afforded us this imperfect inscription.
May 6.—Early this morning we departed from Balbec, directing our course straight across the valley. As we passed by the walls of the city, we observed many stones inscribed with Roman letters and names, but all confused, and some placed upside down, which demonstrates that the materials of the wall were the ruins of the ancient city. In one place we found these letters, RMIPTITVEPR; in others these, VARI–––; in another, NERIS; in others, LVCIL–––, and SEVERI, and CELNAE, and FIRMI; all which serve only to denote the resort which the Romans had to this place in ancient times. In one hour we passed by a village called Ye-ad; and in an hour more went to see an old monumental pillar, a little on the right hand of the road. It was nineteen yards high, and five feet in diameter, of the Corinthian order. It had a table for an inscription on its north side, but the letters are now perfectly erased. In one hour more we reached the other side of the valley, at the foot of Mount Anti-Libanus. We immediately ascended the mountain, and in two hours came to a large cavity between the hills, at the bottom of which was a lake called by its old Greek name, Limone. It is about three furlongs over, and derives its waters from the melting of the snow. By this lake our guides would have Libanus is in this part free from rocks, and only rises and falls with small, easy unevennesses, for several hours' riding; but is perfectly barren and desolate. The ground, where not concealed by the snow, appeared to be covered with a sort of white slates, thin and smooth. The chief benefit it serves for is, that by its exceeding height it proves a conservatory for abundance of snow, which, thawing in the heat of summer, affords supplies of water to the rivers and fountains in the valleys below. We saw in the snow prints of the feet of several wild beasts, which are the sole proprietors of these upper parts of the mountains. May 7.—The next morning we went four hours almost perpetually upon deep snow, which, being frozen, bore us and our horses; and then descending for about one hour, came to a fountain called, from the name of an adjacent village, Ain-il-Hadede. By this time we were got into a milder and better region. Here was the place where we were to strike out of the way, in order to go to Canobine and the cedars. And some of us went upon this design, whilst the rest chose rather to go directly for Tripoli, to which we had not now above four hours. We took with us a guide, who pretended to be well acquainted with the way to Canobine, but he proved an ignorant director; and after he had led us about for several hours in intricate and untrodden mazes amongst the mountains, finding him perfectly at a loss, we were forced to forsake our intended visit for the present, and to steer directly for Tripoli, where we arrived late at night, and were again entertained by our worthy friends, Mr. Consul Hastings and Mr. Fisher, with their wonted friendship and generosity. May 8.—In the afternoon Mr. Consul Hastings carried us to see the castle of Tripoli. It is pleasantly situated on a Sunday, May 9.—Despairing of any other opportunity, I made another attempt this day to see the cedars and Canobine. Having gone for three hours across the plain of Tripoli, I arrived at the foot of Libanus, and from thence, continually ascending, not without great fatigue, came in four hours and a half to a small village called Eden, and in two hours and a half more to the cedars. These noble trees grow amongst the snow near the highest part of Lebanon, and are remarkable as well for their own age and largeness as for those frequent allusions made to them in the word of God. Here are some of them very old, and of a prodigious bulk, and others younger, of a smaller size. Of the former After about half an hour spent in surveying this place, the clouds began to thicken, and to fly along upon the ground, which so obscured the road that my guide was very much at a loss to find our way back again. We rambled about for seven hours thus bewildered, which gave me no small fear of being forced one night more at Libanus; but at last, after a long exercise of pains and patience, we arrived at the way that goes down to Canobine, where I arrived by the time it was dark, and found a kind reception, answerable to the great need I had of it, after so long fatigue. Canobine is a convent of the Maronites, and the seat of the patriarch, who is at present F. Stephanus Edenensis, a person of great learning and humanity. It is a very mean structure; but its situation is admirably adapted for retirement and devotion, for there is a very deep rupture in the side of Libanus, running at least seven hours' travel directly up into the mountain. It is on both sides exceeding steep and high, clothed with fragrant greens from top to bottom, and everywhere refreshed with fountains, falling down from the rocks in pleasant cascades, the ingenious work of nature. These streams, all uniting at the bottom, make a full and rapid torrent, whose agreeable murmuring is heard all over the place, and adds no small pleasure to it. Canobine is seated on the north side of this chasm, on the steep of the mountain, at about the midway between the top and the bottom. It stands at the mouth of a great cave, having a few small rooms fronting outward that enjoy the light of the sun, the rest are all under ground. It had for its founder the emperor Theodosius the Great; and though it has been several times rebuilt, yet the patriarch assured me the church was of the primitive foundation; but, whoever built it, it is a mean fabric, and no great credit to its founder. It stands in the grotto, but fronting outwards receives a little light from that side. In the same side there were also hung in the wall two small bells to call the monks to their devotions; a privilege allowed nowhere else in this country, nor would they be suffered The valley of Canobine was anciently, as it well deserves, very much resorted to for religious retirement. You see here still hermitages, cells, monasteries, almost without number. There is not any little part of rock that jets out upon the side of the mountain, but you generally see some little structure upon it for the reception of monks and hermits, though few or none of them are now inhabited. May 10.—After dinner I took my leave of the patriarch, and returned to Tripoli. I steered my course down by a narrow oblique path cut in the side of the rupture, and found it three hours before I got clear of the mountains, and three more afterwards before I came to Tripoli. May 11.—This day we took our leaves of our worthy Tripoli friends, in order to return for Aleppo. We had some debate with ourselves, whether we should take the same way by which we came when outward bound, or a new one by Emissa, Hempse, and Hamal. But we had notice of some disturbances upon this latter road, so we contented ourselves to return by the same way we came; for having had enough by this time both of the pleasure and of the fatigue of travelling, we were willing to put an end to both the nearest and speediest way. All that occurred to us new in these days' travel was a particular way used by the country people in gathering their corn, it being now harvest time. They plucked it up by handfuls from the roots, leaving the most fruitful fields as naked as if nothing had ever grown on them. This was their practice in all places of the east that I have seen; and the reason is that they may lose none of their straw, which is generally very short, and necessary for the sustenance of their cattle, no hay being here made. I mention this, because it seems to give light to that expression of the Psalmist, "which withereth before it be plucked up," Returning, therefore, by our former stages without any notable alteration or occurrence, we came in eight days to the Honey Khan, at which place we found many of our Aleppine friends, who, having heard of our drawing homeward, were come out to meet us and welcome us home. Having dined together, and congratulated each other upon our happy reunion, we went onward the same evening to Aleppo. Thus, by God's infinite mercy and protection, we were restored all in safety to our respective habitations. And here, before I conclude, I cannot but take notice of one thing more, which I should earnestly recommend to the devout and grateful remembrance of every person engaged in this pilgrimage, viz., that amongst so great a company as we were, amidst such a multiplicity of dangers and casualties, such variety of food, airs, and lodgings (very often none of the best), there was no one of us that came to any ill accident throughout our whole travels, and only one that fell sick by the consequences of the journey after our return, which I esteem the less diminution to so singular a mercy, in regard that, amongst so many of my dear friends and fellow-travellers, it fell to my own share to be the sufferer. ???a Te?.
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