River Mishmir--Saida--Arnauts--Desert-path--Residence of Lady Hester
Stanhope--Beyrout--The consul's--Uncomfortable quarters--Sickness--
The Bazaar--Vexatious delays--Departure from Beyrout--Beautiful
views--Syrian costumes--Damascus--Aspect of the city--House of the
consul.
June 20th.
Shortly after five this morning we were in our saddles, and a few
hours afterwards arrived at the beautiful river Mishmir, which is as
broad as the Jordan, though it does not contain nearly so much
water. Next to the Jordan, however, this river is the largest we
find on our journey, besides being a most agreeable object in a
region so destitute of streams. Its water is pure as crystal.
In ten hours we reached the town, and at once repaired to the
convent, as not one of these cities contains an inn. The little
convent, with its tiny church, is situate at the end of a large
courtyard, which is so thronged with horses and men, particularly
with soldiers, that we had great difficulty in forcing our way
through. When we had at length cleared a passage for ourselves to
the entrance, we were received with the agreeable intelligence that
there was no room for us. What was to be done? We thought
ourselves lucky in obtaining a little room where we could pass the
night in a house belonging to a Greek family; beds were, however,
out of the question; we had to lie on the hard stones. In the
courtyard a kind of camp had been pitched, in which twelve state-
horses of the Emir {167} of Lebanon (creatures of the true Arab
breed) were bivouacking among a quantity of Arnauts.
The Arnaut soldiers are universally feared, but more by friend than
foe. They are very turbulent, and behave in an overbearing manner
towards the people. The Count, my fellow-traveller, was even
insulted in the street, not by a peasant, but by one of these
military fellows. These ill-disciplined troops are assembled every
where, in order that they may be ready to attack whenever a
disturbance occurs between the Druses and Maronites. I consider,
however, that the Arnauts are much more to be feared than either the
Druses or the Maronites, through whose territories we afterwards
journeyed without experiencing, in a single instance, either insult
or injury. I hardly think we should have escaped so well had we
encountered a troop of these wild horsemen.
Among all the Turkish soldiers the Arnauts are the best dressed;
with their short and full white skirts of linen or lawn, and tight
trousers of white linen, a scarf round the middle, and a white or a
red spencer, they closely resemble the Albanians.
June 21st.
This was a most fatiguing day, although we did not ride for more
than ten hours; but this ten hours' journey was performed without
even a quarter of an hour's rest, though the thermometer stood at 33
degrees Reaumur. Our path lay through a sandy desert, about two
miles in breadth, running parallel with the mountain-range from
Saida to Beyrout. The monotony of the steppe is only broken at
intervals by heaps of sand. The surface of the sand presents the
appearance of a series of waves; the particles of which it is
composed are very minute, and of a fine yellowish-brown colour. A
beautiful fertile valley adjoins this desert, and stretches towards
Mount Lebanon, on whose brown rocky surface several villages can be
descried.
This mountain-range has a most imposing appearance. White rocks and
strata of white sand shine forth from its broad and generally barren
expanse like fields of snow.
The residence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope can be seen in the
distance on the declivity of the mountain.
During our long ride of ten hours we did not pass a single tank,
spring, or even pool, and all the river-beds on our way were
completely dried up by the heat. Not a tree could we see that could
shelter us for a moment from the glaring heat of the sun. It was a
day of torment for us and for our poor beasts. Two of our brave
horses sank from exhaustion, and could go no farther, though
relieved of their burdens; we were obliged to leave the poor
creatures to perish by the wayside.
At three in the afternoon we at length arrived at Beyrout, after
having bravely encountered, during ten consecutive days, the toil
and hardship inseparable from a journey through Syria.
The distance from Jerusalem to Beyrout is about 200 miles, allowing
for the circuitous route by way of Tabarith, which travellers are
not, however, compelled to take. From Jerusalem to Nazareth is 54
miles; from Nazareth across Mount Tabor to Tabarith and back again
31 miles; from Nazareth to Mount Carmel, Haifas, and Acre, 46 miles;
and from Acre to Beyrout 69 miles; making the total 200 miles.
Our poor horses suffered dreadfully during this journey; for they
were continually obliged either to climb over rocks, stones, and
mountains, or to wade through hot sand, in which they sank above the
fetlocks at every step. It would have been a better plan had we
only engaged our horses from Jerusalem to Nazareth, where we could
have procured fresh ones to carry us on to Beyrout. We had been
told at Jerusalem that it was sometimes impossible to obtain horses
at Nazareth, and so preferred engaging our beasts at once for the
whole journey. On arriving at Nazareth we certainly discovered that
we had been deceived, for horses are always to be had there in
plenty; but as the contract was once made, we were obliged to abide
by it.
During the ten days of our journey the temperature varied
exceedingly. By day the heat fluctuated between 18 and 39 degrees
Reaumur; the nights too were very changeable, being sometimes
sultry, and sometimes bitterly cold.
BEYROUT
lies in a sandy plain; but the mulberry-trees by which it is
surrounded impart to this city an air of picturesque beauty. Still
we wade every where, in the streets, gardens, and alleys, through
deep sand. Viewed from a distance, Beyrout has a striking effect, a
circumstance I had remarked on my first arrival there from
Constantinople; but it loses considerably on a nearer approach. I
did not enjoy walking through the town and its environs; but it was
a great pleasure to me to sit on a high terrace in the evening, and
look down upon the landscape. The dark-blue sky rose above the
distant mountains, the fruitful valley, and the glittering expanse
of ocean. The golden sun was still illumining the peaks of the
mountains with its farewell rays, until at length it sunk from view,
shrouding every thing in a soft twilight. Then I saw the
innumerable stars shine forth, and the moon shed its magic light
over the nocturnal landscape; and that mind can scarcely be called
human which does not feel the stirring of better feelings within it
at such a spectacle. Truly the temple of the Lord is every where;
and throughout all nature there is a mysterious something that tells
even the infidel of the omnipresence of the Great Spirit. How many
beautiful evenings did I not enjoy at Beyrout! they were, in fact,
the only compensation for the grievous hardships I was obliged to
endure during my stay in this town.
In the inn I could again not find a single room, and was this time
much more at a loss to find a place of shelter than I had been
before; for our host's wife had gone out of town with her children,
and had let her private house; so I sat, in the fullest sense of the
word, "in the street." A clergyman, whose acquaintance I had made
in Constantinople, and who happened just then to be at Beyrout, took
compassion upon me, and procured me a lodging in the house of a
worthy Arab family just outside the town. Now I certainly had a
roof above my head, but I could not make myself understood; for not
a soul spoke Italian, and my whole knowledge of Arabic was comprised
in the four words: taib, moi, sut, mafish--beautiful, water, milk,
and nothing.
With so limited a stock of expressions at my command, I naturally
could not make much way, and the next day I was placed in a very
disagreeable dilemma. I had hired a boy to show me the way to a
church, and explained to him by signs that he was to wait to conduct
me home again. On emerging from the church I could see nothing of
my guide. After waiting for some time in vain, I was at length
compelled to try and find my way alone.
The house in which I lived stood in a garden of mulberry-trees, but
all the houses in the neighbourhood were built in the same style,
each having a tower attached, in which there is a habitable room;
all these dwellings stand in gardens planted with mulberry-trees,
some of them not separated from each other at all, and the rest
merely by little sand-hills. Flowers and vegetables are nowhere to
be seen, nor is the suburb divided into regular streets; so that I
wandered in an endless labyrinth of trees and houses. I met none
but Arabs, whose language I did not understand, and who could,
therefore, give me no information. So I rushed to and fro, until at
length, after a long and fatiguing pilgrimage, I was lucky enough to
stumble on the house I wanted. Unwilling to expose myself to such a
disagreeable adventure a second time, I thought it would be
preferable to dwell within the town; and therefore hired the young
guide before mentioned to conduct me to the house of the Austrian
Consul-General Herr von A. Unfortunately this gentleman was not
visible to such an insignificant personage as myself, and sent me
word that I might come again in a few hours. This was a true "Job's
message" for me, as far as consolation went. The heat was most
oppressive; I had now entered the town for the second time, to be
sent once more back to the glowing sands, with permission to "come
again in a few hours." Had I not been uncommonly hardy, I should
have succumbed. But luckily I knew a method to help myself. I
ordered my little guide to lead me to the house in which the wife of
Battista the innkeeper had lived.
During my previous residence at Beyrout I had accidentally heard
that a French lady lodged in the same house, and occupied herself
with the education of the children. I went to call on this French
lady, and was lucky enough to find her; so I had, at any rate, so
far succeeded that I had found a being with whom I could converse,
and of whom I might request advice and assistance. My new
acquaintance was an extremely cordial maiden lady about forty years
of age. Her name was Pauline Kandis. My unfortunate position
awakened her compassion so much, that she placed her own room at my
disposal for the time being. I certainly saw that my present
quarters left much to be desired, for my kind entertainer's lodging
consisted of a single room, divided into two parts by several tall
chests; the foremost division contained a large table, at which four
girls sat and stood at their lessons. The second division formed a
kind of lumber-room, redolent of boxes, baskets, and pots, and
furnished with a board, laid on an old tub, to answer the purposes
of a table. My condition was, however, so forlorn, that I took
joyful possession of the lumber-room assigned to me. I immediately
departed with my boy-guide, and by noon I was already installed,
with bag and baggage, in the dwelling of my kind hostess. But there
was no more walking for me that day. What with the journey and my
morning's peregrinations I was so exhausted that I requested nothing
but a resting-place, which I found among the old chests and baskets
on the floor. I was right glad to lie down, and court the rest that
I needed so much.
At seven o'clock in the evening the school closed. Miss K. then
took her leave, and I remained sole occupant of her two rooms, which
she only uses as school-rooms, for she sleeps at her brother's
house.
My lodging at Miss K.'s was, however, the most uncomfortable of any
I had yet occupied during my entire journey.
From eight o'clock in the morning until seven at night four or five
girls, who did any thing rather than study, were continually in the
room. The whole day long there was such a noise of shouting,
screaming, and jumping about, that I could not hear the sound of my
own voice. Moreover, the higher regions of this hall of audience
contained eight pigeons' nests; and the old birds, which were so
tame that they not only took the food from our plates, but stole it
out of our very mouths, fluttered continually about the room, so
that we were obliged to look very attentively at every chair on
which we intended to sit down. On the floor a cock was continually
fighting with his three wives; and a motherly hen, with a brood of
eleven hopeful ducks, cackled merrily between. I wonder that I did
not contract a squint, for I was obliged continually to look upwards
and downwards lest I should cause mischief, and lest mischief should
befall me. During the night the heat and the stench were almost
insupportable; and immediately after midnight the cock always began
to crow, as if he earned his living by the noise he made. I used to
open the window every night to make a passage of escape for the heat
and the foul air, while I lay down before the door, like Napoleon's
Mameluke, to guard the treasures entrusted to my care. But on the
second night two wandering cats had already discovered my
whereabouts--without the least compunction they stepped quietly over
me into the chamber, and began to raise a murderous chase. I
instantly jumped up and drove away the robbers; and from that time
forward I was obliged to remain in the interior of my fortress,
carefully to barricade all the windows, and bear my torments with
what fortitude I might.
Our diet was also of a very light description. A sister-in-law of
the good Pauline was accustomed to send in our dinner, which
consisted one day of a thimbleful of saffron-coloured pilau, while
the next would perhaps bring half the shoulder of a small fish. Had
I boarded with my hostess, I should have kept fast-day five days in
the week, and have had nothing to eat on the remaining two. I
therefore at once left off dining with them, and used to cook a good
German dish for myself every day. In the morning I asked for some
milk, in order to make my coffee after the German fashion. Yet I
think that some of our adulterators of milk must have penetrated
even to Syria, for I found it as difficult to obtain pure goats'
milk here as to get good milk from the cow in my own country.
My bedstead was formed out of an old chest, and my sole employment
and amusement was idling. I had not a book to read, no table to
write on; and if I once really succeeded in getting something to
read or made an attempt at writing, the whole tribe of youngsters
would come clustering round, staring at my book or at my paper. It
would certainly have been useless to complain, but yet I could not
always entirely conceal the annoyance I felt.
My friends must pardon me for describing my cares so minutely, but I
only do so to warn all those who would wish to undertake a journey
like mine, without being either very rich, very high-born, or very
hardy, that they had much better remain at home.
As I happened to be neither rich nor high-born, the Consul would not
receive me at all the first time I called upon him, although the
captain of a steamer had been admitted to an audience just before I
applied. A few days afterwards I once more waited upon the Consul,
told him of my troubles, and stated plainly how thankful I should
feel if any one would assist me so far as to procure me a
respectable lodging, for which I would gladly pay, and where I could
remain until an opportunity offered to go to Alexandria; the worthy
Consul was kind enough to reply to my request with a shake of the
head, and with the comforting admission that "he was very sorry for
me--it was really extremely unfortunate." I think the good
gentleman must have left all his feeling at home before settling in
Syria, otherwise he would never have dismissed me with a few
frivolous speeches, particularly as I assured him that I was
perfectly well provided with money, and would bear any expense, but
added that it was possible to be placed in positions where want of
advice was more keenly felt than want of means. During the whole of
my residence at Beyrout, my countryman never troubled himself any
more about me.
During my stay here I made an excursion to the grotto, said to be
the scene of St. George's combat with the dragon; this grotto is
situate to the right of the road, near the quarantine-house. The
ride thither offers many fine views, but the grotto itself is not
worth seeing.
Frequently in the evening I went to visit an Arab family, when I
would sit upon the top of the tower and enjoy the sight of the
beautiful sunset.
A very strong military force was posted at Beyrout, consisting
entirely of Arnauts. They had pitched their tents outside the town,
which thus wore the appearance of a camp. Many of these towns do
not contain barracks; and as the soldiers are not here quartered in
private houses, they are compelled to bivouack in the open field.
The bazaar is very large and straggling. On one occasion I had the
misfortune to lose myself among its numerous lanes, from which it
took me some time to extricate myself; I had an opportunity of
seeing many of the articles of merchandise, and an immense number of
shops, but none which contained any thing very remarkable. Once
more I found how prone people are to exaggerate. I had been warned
to abstain from walking in the streets, and, above all, to avoid
venturing into the bazaar. I neglected both pieces of advice, and
walked out once or twice every day during my stay, without once
meeting with an adventure of any kind.
I had already been at Beyrout ten long, long days, and still no
opportunity offered of getting to Alexandria. But at the end of
June the worthy artist Sattler, whose acquaintance I had made at
Constantinople, arrived here. He found me out, and proposed that I
should travel to Damascus with Count Berchtold, a French gentleman
of the name of De Rousseau, and himself, instead of wasting my time
here. This proposition was a welcome one to me, for I ardently
desired to be released from my fowls' nest. My arrangements were
soon completed, for I took nothing with me except some linen and a
mattress, which were packed on my horse's back.
JOURNEY FROM BEYROUT TO DAMASCUS, BALBECK, AND MOUNT LEBANON.
July 1st.
At one o'clock in the afternoon we were all assembled before the
door of M. Battista's inn, and an hour later we were in our saddles
hastening towards the town-gate. At first we rode through a deep
sea of sand surrounding the town; but soon we reached the beautiful
valley which lies stretched at the foot of the Anti-Libanus, and
afterwards proceeded towards the range by pleasant paths, shaded by
pine-woods and mulberry-plantations.
But now the ascent of the magnificent Anti-Libanus became steeper
and more dangerous, as we advanced on rocky paths, often scarcely a
foot in breadth, and frequently crossed by fissures and brooklets.
Some time elapsed before I could quite subdue my fear, and could
deliver myself wholly up to the delight of contemplating these grand
scenes, so completely new to us Europeans, leaving my horse, which
planted its feet firmly and without once stumbling among the blocks
of stone lying loosely on each other, to carry me as its instinct
directed; for these horses are exceedingly careful, being well used
to these dangerous roads. We could not help laughing heartily at
our French companion, who could not screw up his courage
sufficiently to remain on his horse at the very dangerous points.
At first he always dismounted when we came to such a spot; but at
length he grew weary of eternally mounting and dismounting, and
conquered his fear, particularly when he observed that we depended
so entirely on the sagacity of our steeds, and gave ourselves
completely up to the contemplation of the mountains around us. It
is impossible adequately to describe the incomparable forms of this
mountain-range. The giant rocks, piled one above the other, glow
with the richest colours; lovely green valleys lie scattered
between; while numerous villages are seen, sometimes standing
isolated on the rocks, and at others peering forth from among the
deep shade of the olive and mulberry trees.
[Illustration 6. Lebanon. ill6.jpg]
The sun sinking into the sea shot its last rays through the clear
pure air towards the highest peaks of the mighty rocks. Every thing
united to form a picture which when once seen can never be
forgotten.
The tints of the rocky masses are peculiarly remarkable; exhibiting
not only the primary colours, but many gradations, such as bluish-
green, violet, etc. Many rocks were covered with a red coating
resembling cinnabar, in several places we found small veins of pure
sulphur, and each moment something new and wonderful met our gaze.
The five hours which we occupied in riding from Beyrout to the
village of Elhemsin passed like five minutes. The khan of Elhemsin
was already occupied by a caravan bringing wares and fruit from
Damascus, so that we had nothing for it but to raise our tent and
encamp beneath it.
July 2d.
The rising sun found us prepared for departure, and soon we had
reached an acclivity from whence we enjoyed a magnificent view.
Before us rose the lofty peaks of Lebanon and Anti-Libanus, partly
covered with snow; while behind us the mountains, rich in vineyards,
olive-plantations, and pine-woods, stretched downward to the sea-
shore. We had mounted to such a height, that the clouds soaring
above the sea and the town of Beyrout lay far beneath us, shrouding
the city from our gaze.
Vineyards are very common on these mountains. The vines do not,
however, cling round trees for support, nor are they trained up
poles as in Austria; they grow almost wild, the stem shooting
upwards to a short distance from the ground, towards which the vine
then bends. The wine made on these mountains is of excellent
quality, rather sweet in flavour, of a golden-yellow colour, and
exceedingly fiery.
We still continued to climb, without experiencing much inconvenience
from the heat, up a fearful dizzy path, over rocks and stones, and
past frightful chasms. Our leathern bottles were here useless to
us, for we had no lack of water; from every crevice in the rocks a
clear crystal flood gushed forth, in which the gorgeously-coloured
masses of stone were beautifully mirrored.
After a very fatiguing ride of five hours we at length reached the
ridge of the Anti-Libanus, where we found a khan, and allowed
ourselves an hour's rest. The view from this point is very
splendid. The two loftiest mountain-ridges of Lebanon and Anti-
Libanus enclose between them a valley which may be about six miles
long, and ten or twelve broad. Our way led across the mountain's
brow and down into this picturesque valley, through which we
journeyed for some miles to the village of Maschdalanscher, in the
neighbourhood of which place we pitched our tents.
It is, of course, seldom that a European woman is seen in these
regions, and thus I seemed to be quite a spectacle to the
inhabitants; at every place where we halted many women and children
would gather round me, busily feeling my dress, putting on my straw
hat, and looking at me from all sides, while they endeavoured to
converse with me by signs. If they happened to have any thing
eatable at hand, such as cucumbers, fruits, or articles of that
description, they never failed to offer them with the greatest good-
nature, and seemed highly rejoiced when I accepted some. On the
present evening several of these people were assembled round me, and
I had an opportunity of noticing the costume of this mountain tribe.
Excepting the head-dress, it is the same as that worn throughout all
Palestine, and indeed in the whole of Syria; the women have blue
gowns, and the men, white blouses, wide trousers, and a sash:
sometimes the women wear spencers, and the more wealthy among them
even display caftans and turbans. The head-dress of the women is
very original, but does not look remarkably becoming. They wear on
their foreheads a tin horn more than a foot in length, and over this
a white handkerchief, fastened at the back and hanging down in
folds. This rule, however, only applies to the wealthier portion of
the community, which is here limited enough. The poorer women wear
a much smaller horn, over which they display an exceedingly dingy
handkerchief. During working hours they ordinarily divest
themselves of these ornaments, as they would render it impossible to
carry loads on the head. The rich inhabitants of the mountains,
both male and female, dress in the Oriental fashion; but the women
still retain the horn, which is then made of silver.
The village of Maschdalanscher is built of clay huts thatched with
straw. I saw many goats and horned cattle, and a good store of corn
lay piled up before the doors.
We were assured that the roads through the mountains inhabited by
the Druses and Maronites were very unsafe, and we were strongly
urged to take an escort with us; but as we met caravans almost every
hour, we considered this an unnecessary precaution, and arrived
safely without adventure of any kind at Damascus.
July 3d.
This morning we rode at first over a very good road, till at length
we came upon a ravine, which seemed hardly to afford us room to
pass. Closer and more closely yet did the rocky masses approach
each other, as we passed amongst the loose shingle over the dry bed
of a river. Frequently the space hardly admitted of our stepping
aside to allow the caravans we met to pass us. Sometimes we
thought, after having painfully laboured through a ravine of this
kind, that we should emerge into the open field; but each time it
was only to enter a wilder and more desert pass. So we proceeded
for some hours, till the rocky masses changed to heaps of sand, and
every trace of vegetation disappeared. At length we had climbed the
last hill, and Damascus, "the vaunted city of the East," lay before
us.
It is certainly a striking sight when, escaping from the
inhospitable domains of the mountain and the sandhill, we see
stretched at our feet a great and luxuriant valley, forming in the
freshness of its vegetation a singular contrast to the desert region
around. In this valley, amid gardens and trees innumerable, extends
the town, with its pretty mosques and slender lofty minarets; but I
was far from finding the scene so charming that I could have
exclaimed with other travellers, "This is the most beauteous spot on
earth!"
The plain in which Damascus lies runs on at the foot of the Anti-
Libanus as far as the mountain of Scheik, and is shut in on three
sides by sandhills of an incomparably dreary appearance. On the
fourth side the plain loses itself in the sandy desert. This valley
is exceedingly well watered by springs descending from all the
mountains, which we could not, however, see on our approach; but no
river exists here. The water rushes forth but to disappear beneath
the sand, and displays its richness only in the town and its
immediate neighbourhood.
From the hill whence we had obtained the first view of Damascus, we
have still a good two miles to ride before we reach the plantations.
These are large gardens of mish-mish, walnut, pomegranate, orange,
and lemon trees, fenced in with clay walls, traversed by long broad
streets, and watered by bubbling brooks. For a long time we
journeyed on in the shade of these fruitful woods, till at length we
entered the town through a large gate. Our enthusiastic conceptions
of this renowned city were more and more toned down as we continued
to advance.
The houses in Damascus are almost all built of clay and earth, and
many ugly wooden gables and heavy window-frames give a disagreeable
ponderous air to the whole. Damascus is divided into several parts
by gates, which are closed soon after sunset. We passed through a
number of these gates, and also through the greater portion of the
bazaar, on our road to the Franciscan convent.
We had this day accomplished a journey of more than twenty-four
miles, in a temperature of 35 to 36 degrees Reaum., and had suffered
much from the scorching wind, which came laden with particles of
dust. Our faces were so browned, that we might easily have been
taken for descendants of the Bedouins. This was the only day that I
felt my eyes affected by the glare.
Although we were much fatigued on arriving at the convent, the first
thing we did, after cleansing ourselves from dust and washing our
burning eyes, was to hasten to the French and English consuls, so
eager were we to see the interior of some of these clay huts.
A low door brought us into a passage leading to a large yard. We
could have fancied ourselves transported by magic to the scene of
one of the fantastic "Arabian Nights," for all the glory of the East
seemed spread before our delighted gaze. In the midst of the
courtyard, which was paved with large stones, a large reservoir,
with a sparkling fountain, spread a delightful coolness around.
Orange and lemon trees dipped their golden fruit into the crystal
flood; while at the sides flower-beds, filled with fragrant roses,
balsams, oleanders, etc., extended to the stairs leading to the
reception-room. Every thing seemed to have been done that could
contribute to ornament this large and lofty apartment, which opened
into the courtyard. Swelling divans, covered with the richest
stuffs, lined the walls, which, tastefully ornamented with mirrors
and painted and sculptured arabesques, and further decked with
mosaic and gilding, displayed a magnificence of which I could not
have formed a conception. In the foreground of this fairy apartment
a jet of water shot upwards from a marble basin. The floor was also
of marble, forming beautiful pictures in the most varied colours;
and over the whole scene was spread that charm so peculiar to the
Orientals, a charm combining the tasteful with the rich and
gorgeous. The apartment in which the women dwell, and where they
receive their more confidential visitors, are similar to the one I
have just described, except that they are smaller, less richly
furnished, and completely open in front. The remaining apartments
also look into the courtyard; they are simply, but comfortably and
prettily arranged.
All the houses of the Orientals are similar to this one, except that
the apartments of the women open into another courtyard than those
of the men.
After examining and admiring every thing to our heart's content, we
returned to our hospitable convent. This evening the clerical
gentlemen entertained us. A tolerably nice meal, with wine and good
bread, restored our exhausted energies to a certain extent.
At Beyrout we were quite alarmed at the warnings we received
concerning the numbers of certain creeping things we should find
here in the bedsteads. I therefore betook myself to bed with many
qualms and misgivings; but I slept undisturbed, both on this night
and on the following one.