Departure from Acre--Hadj Ali--Night journey--Encampment
at El Guffer--Roman road--Dangerous pass--Distant view of
Tyre--Ras-el-ayn--Aqueduct--Slave-dealer--Egyptian grooms--Women
washing linen--River Kasmia--Blind travellers--Ancient
sepulchral grottoes and other remains--Sarfent--Signor
Damiani--The Khudder, used as a coffee-house--The hostess--Grave
of Sayd el Abd--Village of Gazzeah--District of the
Metoualis--Arrival at Sayda--Beautiful country.
On the 18th of July, the baggage being all loaded on camels, about
three in the afternoon, the caravan, for such, from the number of
people and animals, it now was, left Acre. To Hadj Ali, a janissary,
who has already been mentioned in this narrative, was committed the
conduct of the baggage. It has just now been seen how, in the revolt
against El Gezzàr, he had fled with the rebels to Constantinople,
under Selim Pasha; after whose death, Ali returned to Syria, and
offered his services to Nasif, at that time pasha of Damascus. He
remained with him some years; and when, in consequence of suspicions
attached to his government by the Porte, Nasif was obliged to quit his
country, and exile himself in Europe, Ali was one of three or four who
accompanied him, and, with him, visited Naples, Genoa, Leghorn, and
Marseilles. Nasif Pasha being permitted to return, Ali was restored to
his native country, and went and served Suliman, pasha of Acre. But
Ali had likewise made a campaign in the vizir’s army in Egypt, and,
on the reverses of the Turks in that country, had quietly remained at
Cairo, where, by his activity and adaptation to Frank manners, he was
employed by the French, at a pay (as he often said with exultation) of
a dollar a day. He would sometimes likewise display his knowledge of
the French language acquired when in their service; and no one would do
him the injustice to infer anything from the expressions _prison_,
_garde_, and _sacre_, which seemed to form almost the extent
of his acquirements.
It was at Acre that we found him. He was past fifty; but active,
intelligent, and a good Mussulman; which means that he strictly
observed the rites and ceremonies of his religion. He was very
diminutive in stature. This was the man who afterwards, in 1816, filled
with the Princess of Wales the same situation which we shall now find
him occupying in Lady Hester’s suite. Length of service, and more
especially fidelity in the execution of his duties, had procured him
advancement, and he now styled himself Khial el Khazny--a name implying
treasury horse messenger. With him was associated Mohammed el Ladkány,
who, it will be recollected, was assigned to her ladyship as a guard
at Jaffa. He was a man of not less activity and intelligence than his
companion, and of noble physiognomy.
We left the city gates, and, as our people were somewhat heterogeneous,
some confusion ensued the moment we were on the high road. Few of
the Christian servants had probably ever mounted a horse before,
since Christians, unless in the service of great Turks or Franks, are
forbidden to ride on horseback. We were therefore entertained with a
display of horsemanship that would not have disgraced a gentleman on
the Easter hunt. Mrs. Fry, her ladyship’s maid, had been accoutred
in man’s clothes; and, from her timidity in this new garb, and thus
mounted, was often exposed to the danger of falling from her ass, on
which she persisted in sitting in the decorous posture customary with
women in England: although in a country where women invariably ride
astride, and where there are no side saddles, she might have imitated
them with less singularity and without indecency. Order was at length
obtained, and we proceeded along the plain to the north of Acre.
We passed on our left the village of Zyb,[64] where is the tomb of
Saad-ed-dyn. We then reached the foot of a promontory jutting into the
sea, called Gebel Msherify. At its first rise is a tower or πυργος,
named in Arabic (by a corruption of the word) _Bûrge_; one of
many others which are seen at unequal distances all along the Syrian
coast. The road here is steep and rugged, and very unfit for camels,
which, however safely they travel on level ground, lose their footing
where there are inequalities.
It was now dark. Sometimes I kept in front of the caravan with Hadj
Ali; and sometimes, when the delay of the camels induced me to ride
back towards them, in my anxiety for the medicine-chest, which was
more particularly an object of care to me, I rode by the side of
the camel which bore it, balanced on the opposite side by a large
clothes’-trunk, and both surmounted by my camp bed. As we were
ascending Gebel Msherify, what was my alarm when I saw, or rather heard
(for the darkness of the night prevented my seeing clearly) the camel
fall over what appeared to be a precipice. The caravan stopped, and we
alighted to see what mischief was done. Instead of falling over the
precipice into the sea, the camel had rolled down about nine feet,
and was found rid of his load, which in his struggle had quitted him.
By the aid of the camel-drivers, who are sturdy fellows, and probably
used to such mishaps, the luggage was replaced on the same beast, who
had experienced no serious injury. But to the chest, filled with glass
bottles, much damage was to be apprehended. However, this was no place
to examine it, both from the darkness that enveloped us, and from the
apprehension of robbers--a fear that possessed me more powerfully at
this time than when I performed the same journey some years afterwards,
when I knew how well the government of Suliman Pasha protected the
traveller in his peregrinations.
When the caravan proceeded, a winding path seemed to carry us higher
and higher, whilst the roaring of the sea, heard distinctly, indicated
how near we were to the edge of the precipice. Underwood covered the
soil. On a sudden, we descended rapidly by the side of a watercourse,
which brought us to another bûrge on the seashore, and elevated but
a few yards above it. Close to it was a cottage, or what we should
in England designate as a lodge for cattle; for it seemed no better,
although it was inhabited by a man who levied a toll on passengers and
loaded animals, without the assistance of a gate or barrier. This place
is called the Guffer. It was here that Hadj Ali, who had been desired
to divide the distance between Acre and Tyre into two equal parts,
caused us to halt; and, although the very stoney soil hereabouts left
not a smooth spot for our encampment, yet, by beating the surface of
the ground, a level was effected for Lady Hester’s tent, and, in an
adjoining field, nearer to the seashore, the other tents were pitched
with some regularity.
The following morning was hot, and the low spot of ground on which we
were encamped seemed to confine the heat so as to make it additionally
oppressive. Behind us was a steep ascent covered with stunted oaks,
and at the summit of it was the village of Nakûra, of about forty
or fifty houses, from which were procured milk, eggs, and fowls. We
walked down to the ruined tower by the edge of the sea, and found it
in the last stage of dilapidation: it is, like the others, round, of
common materials, and of ordinary construction. The pilgrims, who, with
the exception of a few merchants, are the only Christians who travel
along the coast, are contented with the current story respecting these
towers; namely, that they were built by order of the Empress Helena,
when, zealous in the search she was about to make at Jerusalem for the
lost cross, she resolved to establish by beacons a speedy means of
communication with Constantinople, to announce the important event; but
they were probably built as watch-towers against maritime descents on
the coast.
Soon after breakfast, all the tents were struck. Our next station
was fixed near Tyre; it not being considered necessary to enter
that city, inasmuch as it afforded no accommodation better than our
tents. Proceeding from El Guffer[65] (the toll-house), we rode by
the sea-side, along a stoney ridge elevated but a few feet above the
sea, upon which were visible the remains of a Roman paved road: this
ridge continued, with now and then a few undulations, until we reached
a promontory, which, similar to that passed over on the preceding
evening, forms to the north the natural division of the plains of Acca
and Tyre. We began to ascend it, and, at a small distance from its
foot, passed a bûrge more ruinous than that of El Nakûra. At the top,
we were obliged to traverse a road said to be the work of Alexander
the Great, the side of which next to the sea overhangs a tremendous
precipice: this road had no wall, either natural or artificial, to
prevent the sudden start of a horse from precipitating himself and his
rider to certain destruction.[66] Hadj Ali did not fail to tell me a
story, always probably repeated at this place, of a beautiful bride,
who, on her way to the bridegroom’s house, was, by her horse’s taking
fright, thrown from the top to the bottom, and dashed to pieces.
When we arrived at the summit of the promontory, the town of Tyre came
into view: its peculiar situation on a tongue of land, with the ruins
of some towers, which, afar off, have still a picturesque appearance,
has much to interest the traveller, exclusive of the sacred and pagan
recollections which its name excites. In a climate almost always pure,
a tree or a bush seen through the haze of noonday, along a coast in
some places presenting nothing but an even strand, becomes an object
of attention. Much more beautiful was the sight of the town which now
burst upon us; and of the plain, which, bounded by hills at first
retreating and again at a distance of several miles bending towards the
seashore, showed on its varied surface the ripened corn, the maize, the
water-melon fields, and other grains and fruits which the inhabitant
of the western world never sees growing. On entering the plain, some
inconsiderable ruins were observable; and, whatever they might have
formerly been, exhibiting at present nothing more than dispersed
stones, and very small fragments of columns, once parts of buildings,
the foundations of which no longer existed. Four hours’ march brought
us to the skirt of a village, the direct road to which diverged
somewhat to the right, through plantations of mulberry-trees, whilst
we proceeded along the seashore. In a quarter of an hour, we came to
a small rivulet, running over a gravelly bottom with a limpid stream.
Here we were to halt for the night. The camels were unloaded, the tents
pitched, and every disposition made for dinner, and for passing the
night. The spot was truly romantic, and, when visited on subsequent
occasions, although it had lost its novelty, it never lost its charms.
The soil from Acre to Tyre we observed to be generally a rich black
mould.
Ras-el-âyn (or the fountain head) is a village which occupies the
ground where perhaps once stood a part of Tyre. The rivulet, on the
banks of which we were now encamped, is the almost neglected stream
of two or three rich springs, which were carried by noble aqueducts
to the old city, and inland, in another direction, for agricultural
purposes. These springs now served to turn three water-mills: as they
issued out of the ground, they were confined in spacious cisterns,[67]
until they had reached a considerable height, and were then poured off
by different spouts, and afterwards carried by trenches to irrigate
the surrounding gardens, or were lost in the sea through two or three
rivulets like those near which we were. The village, consisting of
about thirty or forty houses, is inhabited by Metoualis (or Shyites), a
sect of Mahometans held as heretics by the Turks. It owes its fertility
to the springs, and its beauty to the verdure which they nourish. A
portion of the ancient aqueduct crossed a watercourse, that traversed
the village, and assumed the appearance of a bridge. It is still used
for the purpose of carrying water to the neighbouring orchards, is
beautifully covered with _capillus Veneris_ and other aquatic
plants. Farther on, in another direction, stalactitic incrustations
had in some places coated the whole pier of an arch, or blocked up an
arch itself. There was a tree in the centre of the village, which I
shall ever recollect, as having at different periods passed four nights
of my life under it. I saw it now with the satisfaction that spreading
trees give in hot climates, where their umbrageous covering is so
delicious. It was an ilex, as large as an English elm, and is called
sindean in Arabic.
In our walk through the village, coming into the fields from the
south, we saw another party, that, like our own, was encamped.
Curiosity induced us to advance close to them. At the foot of a
spreading figtree, now in full foliage, a middle-aged, robust Turk was
employed in boiling a saucepan over a fire made between some rough
stones temporarily raised for the purpose. At a short distance, two
pack-horses and an ass were grazing. A carpet was spread on the ground,
on which was sitting a beautiful bronze-faced girl, about thirteen
or fourteen, whom we guessed to be an Abyssinian. Beside her was a
black girl, still younger, employed in washing rice to be prepared for
dinner. The man showed no symptoms of displeasure at our approach, nor
did the eldest girl attempt to conceal her face, which is generally the
first action of Mahometan females, even of children, on the appearance
of a stranger. The Turk invited us to join his party; and, on our
thanking him, asked us if we belonged to the tents by the waterside,
and whether it was true that an English princess was travelling
through the country. He then told us that he was a slave merchant, and
had these two girls on sale; that if either of them would suit the
English lady he should be happy to dispose of her. It was thus that, to
induce us to recommend the Abyssinian from a sight of her extraordinary
beauty, he had left her uncovered. An ignorance of the usages of the
country, and an abhorrence of such traffic, induced us at that time to
look with feelings of the sincerest pity on those poor creatures; but a
more thorough knowledge of the institutions of the Turks has taught me
to behold slavery among them as a means of advancement to situations,
which otherwise Circassian women and negresses could never hope to
obtain. It is the mother of a child thus stolen who is most to be
pitied: she loses her offspring for ever; but the child will sometimes
rise to extreme affluence, and seldom fails to meet with the same kind
treatment as the children of the family in which she lives. We however
quitted him, impressed with admiration of this young Abyssinian, whose
symmetry of form and regularity of features gave us the idea of as
perfect beauty as can be found, without any admixture of red and white.
We returned to our encampment through a lane with hedges on either
side, and reached the turfy bank upon which some of the tents were
pitched: whilst below the bank the tents for the servants and the
Mamelukes, ranged by the side of the rivulet, with just space enough
between them to tether the neighing horses, formed one of those groups
of picturesque objects which we so often had occasion to admire in our
course through this charming country.
On the morrow, we proceeded on our route in the same order as before;
Lady Hester, with her two grooms walking on either side of her horse’s
head. There cannot be a class of persons more active than these
Egyptian grooms, and, on this account, every gentleman throughout
Turkey who pretends to make any figure has one or more of them in
his stables. They are accustomed to run or walk by the side of their
masters; and, as was the case with those who accompanied us, will
do this for entire days without yielding to fatigue. Their dress is
generally composed of a close waistcoat, embroidered at the bosom, and
of a blue smockfrock, with very full sleeves and full body, which they
tastily brace up by a silk cord that crosses behind, and passes round
the shoulders, giving a form to the drapery which may be observed in
the folds of the _peplum_ on ancient statues. A red turban, a pair
of linen drawers, and red shoes, complete the suit; and, thus lightly
equipped, they show a degree of activity which makes them invaluable.
Their skill as grooms in the stable is equally great.
Mr. B. did not pass by a place so celebrated as Tyre without entering
it. Early in the morning, he had taken his janissary, and proceeded
thither; and, after examining the few antiquities which are yet left
in it, he rejoined us on the road soon after our departure.
As we were riding along the high road, we were much surprised to
observe, about a hundred and fifty yards from it, in a place where
there was a running stream, several naked women, who were washing and
spreading linen on the ground and hanging it on trees to dry. They paid
little attention to us, excepting that they turned their backs on us.
There was a low stone wall between them and the road. We afterwards
found that it was customary, almost throughout Syria, for the female
peasantry to resort to some spring close to their village, carrying
with them boilers and earthenware pans, and there, stripping themselves
naked, to wash even to the shifts from their backs, after which they
comb their hair and wash themselves, or frolic away their time until
their linen is dry. The hill that overhung the rivulet where they were
washing was a part of the ruins of old Tyre, or the very mound which
Nebuchadnezzar raised in order to take the city.
Our road this day was more diversified than on the preceding. We
traversed the rich plain of Tyre, which is remarkable for its
fertility. About two hours’ march brought us to the point at which
the hills again advance to the sea-side. Through them, by a narrow
valley, the river Kasmia[68] pours its clear waters into the sea. It
was, at this season of the year, fordable, not being deeper than up to
the stirrups. A bridge of one arch, of modern date, but not devoid of
beauty, leads over it, and its verdant banks are hedged in by oleander
trees, a shrub which, whether in or out of flower, is highly beautiful.
Close to the bridge, on the south side, and on the first rise of
the hills, stand the venerable ruins of a khan or caravansery, now
incapable of affording shelter to the traveller. In earlier times, it
probably had been a castle for the defence of the passage of the river.
At about twenty minutes’ march from the bridge, we met with five
blind men, led by a sixth, who, with their staves and wallets, were
journeying towards Acre. Each held by the skirt of the one who preceded
him. They had the appearance of dervises, or calenders, and their
adventures would probably have furnished as much amusement as their
one-eyed predecessors in the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. They
appeared cheerful.
We next passed the dry bed of a river, called Abu-el-Aswad, over which
is the ruin of an ancient bridge of one arch, and leading from it are
seen the remains of an ancient road. In times of great security (as
when El Gezzàr Pasha was alive), a guard was stationed at this bridge,
in an old structure of masonry now going to decay. Abundance of tansy
grows hereabouts. Patches of the ancient Roman road occasionally
reappear.
Abreast of this road, upon the hills, is a sanctuary called the tomb of
the Nebby (prophet) Sury; and on the left are some upright stones by
the sea-side, fragments of a ruined building; but which the mule-driver
told me were so many men petrified for having blasphemed the prophet.
The regularity in which the stones stand no doubt gave rise to the
popular tradition.
In the rocks which overhung the coast hereabouts we observed
excavations with small entrances, which were ancient sepulchral
grottoes. There were also appearances of quarries; and on the seashore
were old foundations of edifices. Just before reaching this spot we
passed a small creek, where were indistinct ruins and cisterns among
some fig-trees. It is therefore probable that a town or city[69] once
stood here, the antiquity of which may be inferred from the grottoes.
A little farther on we came to a row of pedestals of pillars, and some
indistinct foundations, and in three minutes more to a well-spring
neatly cased in stone, with steps down to the water. It is called Ayn
Bab el Feteh. In a quarter of an hour after quitting the spring there
is a rocky promontory called Kysarrâa, which scarcely leaves a passage
round it: it was the boundary of ancient Phœnicia. A small stream runs
close by. At the distance of two hours and a quarter, reckoning from
the bridge of the Kasmia, we halted for the night at a place called
the Khudder (or green), where is a small sanctuary dedicated to a
santon, or some Mahometan of renowned sanctity. It stands close to the
waterside, directly west from the burgh of Sarfent, which is built on
the foot of the neighbouring mountains, one mile off.
This burgh has a very picturesque appearance when viewed at a distance.
It is the general but loose assertion of travellers that its name
is a corruption of Sarpentum, a Greek city, which once stood on the
seashore, and the ruins of which are still visible, scattered about
on the north of the Khudder. But it is known to every one from holy
writ that there was a town hereabouts called Sarpent. The Arabic name,
therefore, is prior to the Greek one, with the slight alteration
necessary for affiliating it to the Greek language. It was adopted on
the founding of a new city, in the same way as Acre is evidently a
corruption of Acca, which name is to be found in the Bible, Although
the perpetual plunder, for centuries, of the materials which once
composed the edifices of the town, has almost cleared the spot of
every moveable stone above ground, still old Sarpentum continues to be
the quarry whence stones are supplied for Sayda, and excavations for
foundations have now succeeded the demolition of the superstructures.
We marked out a green plot of ground, close by the place, for our
encampment, and, overpowered by the heat, I removed a little way off to
bathe. I had not been in the water long when I observed a horseman in
scarlet, with a cocked hat, arrive at the Khudder, and, dismounting,
fix his attention on me. I hastened to dress myself, and joined him. He
spoke to me in Italian, and declared himself to be Signor Damiani,[70]
formerly dragoman to Sir W. Sydney Smith, and now established at Sayda
as a self-created English agent. The object of his journey was to
invite Lady Hester to take up her abode at his house during her stay
there. With considerable energy he likewise vilified the character of
the French consul of that place, stating his unjustifiable severities
towards himself, and his dislike to the English name. New to the world,
and to the sort of character I had to deal with in this man, I thought
that he was an aggrieved and deserving person, and as such introduced
him to her ladyship, who, however, dismissed him with a refusal.
The Khudder[71] was kept by a man, whose wife was a sprightly
middle-aged woman. The building upon the consecrated spot was a square
small chamber, surmounted by a cupola, and around it were three small
rooms, little better than sheds, for the accommodation of travellers
and their horses. For, as the Khudder lies in the high-road from Sayda
to Tyre, the passage of travellers is frequent and the resort to the
house considerable, owing to its equidistant situation from the one
and the other place; by which persons departing late from either, and
under fear of being benighted or shut out from the city, where the
invariable rule is to close the gates soon after sunset, can enter
it early enough for business on the following morning. The Khudder,
in fact, was no more than a coffee-hut, similar to many which exist
throughout the country: and the entertainment to be found will serve as
a sample of what the others produce. Provender for horses, mules, and
asses, consisting of barley and chopped straw, is the chief article of
sale: for the traveller himself are kept dried figs, bad bread, dibs
(a kind of treacle,) coffee of the most common quality, tombac for the
narkeely, and perhaps a few raisins. Leben or sour milk is generally
to be procured from the neighbouring village. Our hostess had much
the air of having departed somewhat from the strict rules of female
reserve prescribed by the Mahometan faith: although her husband and
she were Metoualys, whose notions regarding the privacy of the female
sex are still more rigid than those of any other Mahometan sect. Her
gallantries did not seem to be unknown to the camel-drivers, whose
occupations often led them along that road; and her coquettish air, and
the studied affectation of hiding her face in her veil in a way that
constantly showed it, were indubitable signs of a wanton. In speaking
of her thus, the reader will observe how much similar situations tend
to form similar characters in all countries. This woman subsequently
ran away with a muleteer, and her husband married a young girl of 18
or 20: but, finding her, although more comely, less capable of serving
him in the way of getting money, he recalled the first wife, and kept
them both. During five years that we were in the habit of seeing her
as we passed that road, we had often occasion to admire her activity
and her complaisant attentions to her guests; whilst it was curious
to see the divided empire which the one held by the precarious tenure
of her personal charms, but which the other built on the more lasting
foundation of her utility.
It should be observed that the portion of Mount Lebanon, that runs
parallel with the coast, from Gebel el Msherify to Sayda, is inhabited
entirely by Metoualys. Of this race of people we shall have to speak
more at large hereafter. We have already seen the remarkable neglect of
decency shown by them in the display of the naked persons of the women
at Ras-el-ayn.
The following day, soon after sunrise, the march was resumed. From
the Khudder, Sayda bore E.N.E. Sarfend was on the right, and the
ruins of Sarpentum were scattered around us. In twenty minutes we
passed a spring called Ayn-el-Kantara,[72] overhung by a gemaizy or
sycamore tree. There were some naked women bathing in the sea, at
a small distance from the road. In twenty minutes we came to Burge
el Akbeia (the tower of Akbeia) a ruined watch-tower close to the
water’s edge. There is an appearance of a small port which, even now,
occasionally serves as a nook for fishing-boats. Shallow tanks likewise
have been here and there for the evaporation of sea-water to obtain
salt. Portions of foundations on two sides of the gully, which here
carries off rains running in winter from the neighbouring mountains,
but was now dry, showed that it once had a bridge. In a few minutes
more we crossed a small stream, scarcely up to the horse’s fetlocks,
called, however, a river, the name of which was not noted down. Close
beyond it there is a most plentiful and clear spring, issuing from the
crevices of a large angular cistern in masonry, of antique date, and
now crumbling away. It is called Berkyt-et-tel,[73] or the reservoir
of the hill, there being a hill or mound facing the reservoir, which
bears the name of Tel Yea. At the distance of a quarter of an hour from
the reservoir are some portions of columns lying on the ground, and by
them a river called El Zahràny,[74] over which is a modern stone bridge
of tolerable neatness. Beyond the Zahràny we observed, in the middle of
the road, a loose conical heap of bowlders. To account for their lying
so piled up, our muleteers related a long story, of a certain black,
named Sayd el Abd, and his wife Luky, one or both of whom were murdered
on the highway; and, to perpetuate the memory of their untimely end,
every passer-by is expected to throw a stone on the grave. The gradual
accumulation has now formed a very considerable heap.[75] In fourteen
minutes more we observed some rubbish and stone masonry as of an old
caravansery, and six minutes beyond it a dry watercourse. Fourteen
minutes farther, the road being still by the sea-side, we passed
another dry bed of a river, on the banks of which are some wells, that
serve for shepherds to water their flocks.
We were now abreast of a considerable Metoualy village, half a mile
off, at the foot of the neighbouring hills, and distant from Sayda two
leagues or thereabouts. Guzzeah is partly in ruins, otherwise it would
be a pretty place, commanding a fine view of the plain and of the sea.
It seems to have been populous, and to have had mosques. Guzzeah may be
said to be the Northern boundary of the Metoualys; for their district
is comprehended in two strait lines drawn from W. to E. through Gezýn
to the N. and through Gebel el Msherify and Bussa to the South,
including a length of about twelve leagues. Their principal burghs are
Gebâa and Tibenyn, at which latter resided at this time the motsellem
deputed by the Pasha of Acre, who was called Ibrahim Aga el Kûrdy, and
his soldiers were, for the most part, Kûrds also.[76]
Before reaching Sayda, we crossed the beds of three other rivers, or
more properly, watercourses, the first Nahr Kutýshy; the second Nahr
Essýn, or Nahr Derb es syn; and the last, immediately before entering
the town, and over which there is a bridge, Nahr Burgût. Derb es syn
lies on the right within a nook of the mountain, through which the
river runs: its inhabitants are Christians. Another Christian village,
Mëah-wy-mëah, overlooks the other valley, out of which runs the Burgût
river.[77] Winding round the foot of the castle, through orchards
now in full leaf, we turned by a short angle to the left, traversed a
cemetery, and, continuing for four or five hundred yards close to the
outside of the city wall, which appeared no stronger than gaol-walls in
England, entered the city gate by the water side. As our file of camels
and horses was of more than ordinary length, we attracted some notice
as we traversed the narrow streets, and the arrival of the English
Princess was already noised through the city.
Thus far the face of the country through which we had passed had seemed
delightful. Palestine presents all the different varieties of plain
and mountain, hill and valley, river and lake; and has likewise an
exceedingly fine climate. The luxuriance of vegetation is not to be
described. Fruits of all sorts, from the banana down to the blackberry,
are abundant. The banks of the rivers are clothed naturally with
oleander, myrtle, arbutus, and other flowering shrubs.
Mount Lebanon, through the whole of the distance from Acre to Sayda,
seldom recedes from the sea more than a mile, and generally not so
much, excepting immediately behind Acre, where there is a plain bounded
by Mount Carmel, nine miles south of the city, and on the north by
the promontory of Msherify.[78] The inhabitants there are Mussulmans,
Christians, and Drûzes. The vestiges of ancient cities, bridges, and
roads, denote the vast population that once dwelt on the coast.