ANTIOCH AND LATTAKIA.
In Antioch our stay was, much to our regret, comparatively short; for who
would willingly quit so fair a spot—a perfect Paradise, and rich in the
fairest gifts of nature? A healthy climate, a cloudless sky, luxuriant
fruits and flowers, meadows and pasturages, high hills and valleys; the
mountain and the plain bespangled with trees, the wild myrtle and other
fragrant shrubs, intersected by a glorious river; the earth producing
nourishment for droves upon droves of cattle, and domestic as well as
wild fowl; the river abounding in eels, and the distant sea furnishing
delicious fish of fifty varieties. What more could mortal man on earth
desire? All these can Antioch boast of, besides the many pleasant
reminiscences connected with the spot. Its primitive Christian Church,
the great success that crowned the early efforts of those two devout and
indefatigable apostles, Paul and Barnabas;—the city, the birthplace of
St. Luke, the beloved physician, where originated the name of that faith,
which is our pride, our boast, and the source of all our hope; these are
ties which render Antioch, in the devout Christian’s estimation, second
only to Jerusalem. When we were at this place many parts of the once
famous walls of the city were still in perfect condition, a wonderful
proof of the skill and persevering labours of those brave but alas
unsuccessful men who strove permanently to plant the cross in the
countries where it had first been raised, and had once triumphantly
flourished. Though through so many succeeding generations the city has
been subjected to every imaginable disaster, fire, invasion, revolt, and
the terrible effects of violent earthquakes, yet nature still smiles upon
the surrounding country as brightly as ever she shone in the zenith of
her city’s glory. Its palaces and other magnificent buildings, the
handiwork of mortal man, had, with man, all crumbled away to dust. Its
millions of inhabitants have dwindled down to some few thousands, and in
this respect the wreck is complete; but the fairness of the morning, and
the freshness of the breeze, the beauty of the prospect, the flowers, and
fruits, and trees, these continue the same as in the wealthiest era of
the Seleucidæ. Man and man’s triumphant domes are nowhere to be seen; a
few crazily built houses, and a few straggling inhabitants, are all that
now constitute the modern town of Antakia.
Yet, notwithstanding all this, the vast extent of land in the
neighbourhood of Antioch which is devoted solely to the cultivation of
mulberry-trees, and the great space of still uncultivated ground which
might be devoted to a like purpose, gives ample assurance that, in the
one article of silk alone, an immense revenue might be derived, and a
very large population be maintained in easy, if not affluent,
circumstances. As matters stand at the present day, the silk produced
yields no inconsiderable revenue; but the plantations are the exclusive
property of a few independent proprietors, who, themselves reaping more
than a lion’s share, leave to the great herd of the inhabitants a paltry,
miserable pittance, which can scarcely find them the very barest
necessaries of life, although Antioch is acknowledged to be perhaps the
cheapest place in the known world.
Whilst at Antioch, we visited the water-mills now occupying the site of
the once celebrated groves of Daphne, and thence returning, took horses
and proceeded to Suedia over the selfsame ground once familiar to Paul
and Barnabas, when those two apostles, like ourselves, went down to
Seleucia to take shipping from thence. The whole space intervening
between Antioch and Suedia, a distance of nearly twenty miles, is
occupied by luxuriant mulberry plantations and orchards of delicious
fruit-trees; fruits that are peculiar to this neighbourhood having been
introduced and cultivated with great care, through a series of many
years, by a philanthropic English gentleman, who distributed cuttings and
grafts throughout the district.
At Suedia we remained two days, the guests of this hospitable gentleman,
visiting in that interval—the site where stood the pillar of Simeon
Stylites—the delightful country seats of Mr. Barker at Bitias and
Huderbey, and lastly, the splendid ruined tunnel and aqueduct, besides
other remains of the once wealthy Seleucia. This done, we hired an Arab
felucca, which, sailing out of the Orontes, and crossing the Gulf of
Antioch in the short space of seven hours, carried us over to Lattakia,
the ancient Laodicea.
Arrived at Lattakia, we became the guests of the hospitable brothers
Elias. Signor Mosi Elias is the British vice-consul at that port; and
seldom have I had the happiness of meeting with a more worthy man; but,
in fact, the whole of his family are distinguished for their great
courtesy and hospitality to all strangers. This eulogy may fairly be
extended to all the native agents established along the sea-coast of
Syria; although, unfortunately, their humble efforts are not always duly
appreciated. English gentlemen, accustomed to every comfort and luxury
that wealth can command, little imagine the expense and trouble incurred
by many of the humble Syrian agents in their efforts to afford
hospitality to British travellers. Receiving no salary, and yet
compelled to maintain a certain position to support the dignity of
office, the means in their power must necessarily be limited; but as far
as house-room goes—a bed, a dinner, breakfast, and supper, according to
their limited means; these are always cheerfully offered to the
traveller; and the poor consular agent, who has almost insuperable
difficulties to contend with, so as to enable him to impress the local
authorities with a due sense of the importance and respectability of his
office, is glad to avail himself of the opportunity of having an
Englishman as guest under his roof, to convince the neighbours and his
fellow-townsmen of his influence with the British. I have known
instances where a poor consular agent has even parted with some valuable
family relic, so as to enable him to afford a hearty welcome to some
Englishman of distinction; while, perhaps, the only return he has met
with, was to be treated with supreme contempt and derision, even to his
face; or to have his name bandied about to the world in some gaudily
bound book of travels, in which authors have seen fit to make sport of
men, who, in all probability, sacrificed a night’s rest and comfort to
contribute both towards them in a strange land.
While on this subject, I may record one instance which came to my
knowledge, and which was really too scandalous not to be made known.
A party of travellers, for I cannot style them gentlemen, five or six in
number, were travelling through Syria and Palestine, accompanied by a
retinue of servants with tents, baggage, and every luxury and comfort
that money could command. Arriving at one of the seaport towns, where
dwelt an English agent (a good old man, who was a Syrian by birth), they
pitched their tents outside of the town, and sending their insolent
dragoman to the agent, informed him that it was their intention to remain
a couple of days in that neighbourhood, and commanded him to procure them
guides to shew them over the town and its vicinity, so that they might
see all that was worth being seen. To this, the agent really assented;
and “on hospitable thoughts intent,” dressed himself for the occasion,
and, preceded by his _cawass_, went to the travellers’ tents to pay his
respects, and to offer them any little services in his power. Finding
that they required no further aid, he then told them, that although they
had placed the possibility of being useful to them beyond his reach, he
trusted that they would not wholly deprive him of the pleasure of their
company; and invited them to dine at his house at an early hour the next
day. This invitation the travellers, who had barely treated the old man
with civility, thought proper to accept, and the next day they duly made
their appearance.
Meanwhile, the poor consul, whose stock of crockery was rather scant, and
whose knives and forks mustered but a meagre show, endeavoured, by buying
or borrowing, to make things as tidy and complete as he possibly could;
but it often happens, that in such small villages as that in which the
agent resided, and where European vessels seldom resort, European
merchandise is very rare; and such a thing as a plated spoon or a knife
and fork, is not to be met with for love or money. This was precisely
the case in the instance before us; and the poor agent was put to his
wit’s end in discovering that, after every effort, his stock of knives
still fell short of the necessary complement by a knife. In this
dilemma, he was quite at a nonplus what to do; till, finally, he resolved
to throw himself upon the known courtesy of an Englishman, and explain
exactly how matters stood; begging of the guests on their arrival to let
their servants fetch from their own tents such implements for table use,
as were indispensably requisite for the accommodation of all.
No sooner, however, had the poor agent explained the state of affairs by
means of the interpreter, than the guests, one and all, fell into a
violent passion, and asked the consul how he had dared to insult them by
asking them to dinner, when he was not in a position to treat them as
became persons of their rank and distinction. Saying this, they swept
from the room in a towering passion, leaving the poor agent lost in
amazement how to account for such conduct from persons who styled
themselves English gentlemen, and overcome with shame and vexation that
his neighbours should have been witness to such an outrage.
This anecdote requires no comment. Happily such instances of gross
misconduct are of rare occurrence, but it plainly exemplifies the absurd
system followed by government in placing native agents all over Syria and
Turkey, to whom they do not afford means of maintaining a position which
ought to command respect.
The present system of native agencies is altogether a mistake; they
should be entrusted only to those who have previously had a European
education. Most of those now employed have been reared in dread of the
very name of the _local powers_, and are inefficient in cases of
controversy between subjects of two nations.
I may here be permitted to deviate a little from the subject of Lattakia
and my travels, to make a few remarks on the uses and abuses of the
protection-system, so largely practised all over Syria and Turkey.
The abuses of the system are very great; this is much to be regretted,
because in the main the arrangements existing between the Ottoman
government and European powers with regard to this particular subject,
viz., that of the privileges enjoyed by Europeans to protect a limited
number of persons actually in the service of consuls, merchants, and
others, is a very great boon to Europeans. Were it not for this
privilege, Europeans residing in Syria would find it a very difficult
matter to procure good and efficient servants at moderate wages.
In some parts of Syria, where every creature-comfort or necessary is
extremely cheap, the lower orders, who are generally of an indolent
disposition, would much prefer remaining idle for one-half of the year to
engaging in any occupation which might make it incumbent on them to go
through a certain portion of daily labour; and this they can afford to
do, as their habits are frugal, and the amount gained in one day by a
labourer, will suffice to support himself and family for three days.
This applies equally to the fellah or peasant employed in cultivation.
His portion of the silk harvest is sufficient to maintain him till the
wheat crop is gathered in, when he earns with his scythe a sufficiency to
maintain him in idleness till the olive and grape harvests arrive, and
then he is either paid in cash or allowed a certain quantity of wheat,
oil, wine, aqua vitæ, _dibis_, {92} raisins, etc., as recompense for his
labour. Of this store he lays by a sufficiency for the winter; the silk
and the surplus of the wheat, etc., he either sells or barters for other
household requisites, such as clothing, butter and charcoal. He brings
his own fuel from the mountains, and, if he be at all a careful manager,
can keep an ass or a mule of his own to carry goods and passengers to and
from the nearest towns and villages. Thus, with a very small amount of
labour, the peasant of Syria can afford to have an idle time of it, were
he not in terror of government taxes; for although the system of taxation
is fairly and justly arranged, and in reality the sums levied are small
in proportion to the income, still there are understrappers, besides
their own Christian Nazir and Sheikhs, who peculate to a large extent
under the plea of some false necessity. This induces the peasant gladly
to embrace any opportunity that may offer of entering into the service of
a Frank; for from the hour of his employment he is, to all intents and
purposes, the subject of another power; he is exempt from taxation, and
the officials durst not intrude themselves upon the privacy of his
household, under penalty of being at loggerheads with the consuls and
pashas, and possibly of being exposed to the ignominy of the bastinado.
Now the very possession of this power to protect is sufficient to raise
an Englishman much in the estimation of the Turks, and other natives of
Syria; and were this privilege used with moderation, and not abused, it
would become, as I have already stated, a boon to Europeans.
The great misfortune is that there is no existing line of distinction
which might separate the herd of Syro-European inhabitants, from those
really and virtually Europeans by birth and education. These two
distinct classes are as separated from each other as light is from
darkness, yet unfortunately possessing like powers and like privileges,
the latter class, who fill the posts of consuls, merchants, clerks,
missionaries, _doctors_, and a few tradesmen being strictly gentlemen in
their principles.
The former class consists of men, whose paternal ancestors were European,
and who scrupulously claim their rights as such. Most of them have
intermarried amongst their own peculiar class, so as to form a distinct
and new race of inhabitants in Syria. They have inherited from their
fathers in a lineal descent, their names, nationality, and wealth, and in
many instances their consular dignity. Some few have inherited the
consulates without proportionate means to support the dignity, and the
mass of this class being linked together by marriage ties, almost every
man is grandfather, uncle, cousin, nephew, father, brother, or son, or
brother-in-law to his next-door neighbour. It is with this latter class
in particular that the abuse of the protection system prevails to an
alarming extent.
There are in Syria few or none of that troublesome class of Europeans
that so infest Constantinople, Smyrna, and Alexandria. I allude to
political and other refugees: these find no occupation or encouragement
in Syria, where there are no established gambling-houses, or other dens
to which they can resort.
To be classed as a European merchant in Syria, requires no very great
outlay of capital; take, for example, the following instance:—
Messrs. A--- and Co., a wealthy English firm, established at Beyrout or
elsewhere, receive annually from three to four thousand bales of British
manufactured goods, and they ship goods to an equally large amount. They
necessarily require the services of not only household servants, but
cashiers, native writers, and warehousemen. These men are very properly
admitted to the privilege of temporarily enjoying the protection of a
British subject.
Perhaps the next-door neighbour to these gentlemen is a Mr. B--- who is
also styled a merchant, because once, or perhaps twice in a twelvemonth,
he goes through the form of receiving a solitary bale of goods; this
bale, in all probability, being sent through his hands as a blind, by
some wealthier relative, to impress the local authorities with an idea of
his wealth, and to enable him to establish his claim to rank as a
merchant. This man pretends to find occupation for as many people as the
solid English house does, and every man in his employment, and under his
protection (perhaps the cook only excepted) is a man of substance. It
would be a problem hard to solve by any uninitiated traveller or stranger
how to account for this; how this man who is notoriously poor, and whose
miserable single bale of manufactures would barely counter-balance the
expenditure of his household for a single week, can manage to support so
vast a retinue, find occupation for so many people, and keep up such an
appearance of state; but the secret lies in a nut-shell. In his case
_the master is the hireling of the servant_. His warehouseman alone (who
drives a thriving trade in the wealthiest bazaar) pays him perhaps, sixty
pounds sterling per annum, to enjoy the privilege of European protection;
so that at this rate, and as the list of protected is a long one, the
Syro-European merchant is in the receipt of an excellent income; he keeps
his horses and gives grand entertainments; but as far as conscience or
honesty goes, these are two hard words not to be met with in his
vocabulary.
This is _infamous_! But even this is a trifle in comparison to what is
done by such as are invested with authority as consuls. These have a
long list of protected, and the consular secretary, and consular
interpreter has each his own peculiar protégées; and so the number goes
on gradually downwards, until we arrive at the consular _cawass_; and
even he can boast of one or more on his list! Thus, in lieu of a consul
only protecting a _dozen or fourteen_ individuals (which is about treble
the number he is, strictly speaking, allowed), he in fact is the indirect
means of affording protection to many _scores_ of individuals; each of
whom is a dead loss to the treasury of the local government, and a
burthen to his poorer and less fortunate brethren; and this because the
exact amount of any given tax to be collected being beforehand fixed by
the government, the Nazirs and Sheikhs allot to each man of the village
his own portion; and what should have fallen on the shoulders of the
exempted or protected man, is obliged to be made good by those persons
who are subjected to the tax.
But this is not all: the subordinate officers in some of the European
Consulates are guilty of equally gross offences. The consuls are apt to
be wheedled over by the cunning dragoman or chancellor, so completely,
that at last they place a blind and implicit faith in their every word or
suggestion, and will on no consideration listen to complaints often too
justly founded against these upstart Jacks in office.
An instance of this occurred to myself; but I will, from delicacy to the
high official functionary mixed up with it, omit names of places and
persons. A native Prince was anxious to call upon one of the
authorities, but being unacquainted with the English language, he desired
me to accompany him; not but that the authority in question was furnished
with an interpreter, but simply, because the Prince wished, for privacy’s
sake, that the matter of conversation should be confined to ourselves,
without any prying ears being witness to the interview. Arriving at the
office, we were shown in; but the interpreter ushering the Prince into
one apartment, showed me into another. I was quite amazed at this
strange proceeding; but as the dragoman immediately left the room, I
could only conjecture that it was some sly trick of his own, or a wish to
be possessed of information regarding the Prince. Whichever motive it
might have been, the visit terminated without my seeing the official. On
a subsequent occasion, however, I alluded to the matter; the dragoman was
taxed with it but stoutly denied having done anything of the kind,
declaring that I of my own accord had gone into another room. I brought
the Prince’s testimony to prove how the man had slighted me; but
notwithstanding all this, that lying interpreter had gained such
influence with this high official, that our testimony was discarded, and
he was believed.
After this long digression from the subject, for which I beg the reader’s
kind forgiveness, I now resume the thread of my narrative.
The staple produce of Lattakia is wheat, silk, and tobacco; {97} of
these, the latter is considered to be the finest and most odoriferous in
the world; and the _aboo reah_, though many attempts have been made to
introduce it into other parts of Syria, will grow nowhere else save at
Jabaliy, a small seaport town about three hours to the southward of
Lattakia, and where one of the Sultans who had abdicated his throne and
withdrawn himself from the world, built a magnificent mosque, and some
other public edifices, the ruins of many of which are still to be seen,
and which render “Sultan Ibrahim,” as Jabaliy is from these circumstances
styled, an object of interest to travellers.
Whilst at Lattakia a messenger arrived with dispatches, summoning us to
Beyrout. On our arrival there, we found the combined Austrian, Turkish,
and English fleets anchored before the town, to compel the Egyptians to
evacuate Syria, and at the invitation of my friend, Ahmed Bey, I paid him
a visit on board of the Turkish Admiral’s vessel, who despatched me on a
secret mission to the mountains; whilst there I was filled with
consternation by hearing a report that Ibrahim Pasha, having obtained
intelligence of my movements, had set a price upon my head. I
immediately burnt all my papers, changed my dress, and travelled in
disguise of a beggar, expecting every moment to be recognised and
beheaded. At last I reached a village called Arrayah, near the road to
Damascus; here I had some relations, and I immediately went to them for
shelter.
After I had been there a few days, the news of it reached the governor,
and he immediately sent two _cawass_ to arrest me; but the servant of my
friend, having received information that I was being pursued, hid me in
the harem apartments, which are accessible to none but the head of the
family, a priest, or a physician; here I was secreted, and on their
arrival, they even sent in a priest to the harem to ascertain if I was
there; but the vigilance of my protectors evaded them even in this, and I
was let down from the window in a basket into the garden, from whence I
escaped to a cave close by till midnight; I then made my way back to my
relations, who told me of the close search the _cawass_ had made, and the
disappointment they experienced at not finding me.
A few days after this an English traveller passed through the place, and
understanding a little of his language, I offered my services to
accompany him to Beyrout, under the title of _turjaman_; and according to
the laws of Turkey, I no sooner joined him than I was under British
protection. By this means I reached Beyrout in safety; and finding that
the Capitan Pasha had gone to Acre, I joined the English forces, and
then, for the first time in my life, witnessed the consummate skill and
accuracy with which the troops carried on the warfare.
Nothing could have been more ingenious than the plan of attack. The
Turkish troops, arriving in steamers and vessels of war, were during the
night, with the utmost precaution, transhipped to the British vessel; and
next morning, those vessels, supposed by the forces on shore to carry
troops, were towed down by the “Geyser” and other steamers towards
Ras-Beyrout, which occasioned the whole of the Egyptian forces to
evacuate the town, and take up a strong position in that neighbourhood.
When the steamers perceived this, they altered their course and proceeded
to Dog River. Here a few Albanians had been stationed to oppose them.
These were mown down by the heavy batteries of the frigates, who landed
their troops and took unmolested possession of the place. Soon after
they were joined by Beschir Kasir, with a body of men from the mountains,
whom the English commandant supplied with arms, etc. And thus the
victory was won.
I remained with the army several weeks, and assisted in the operations
against the Egyptians; and after the conclusion of peace, accompanied an
English officer and a numerous body of attendants to Tripoli, or as we
call it, Trablous, the beautiful orange garden of the world. People talk
so much about St. Michael oranges; for my part, I have never seen any
orange in the world whose flavour and scent could equal that of Trablous;
besides which, they are so plentiful and cheap, that although all the
sea-coasts, and the interior of Syria and Palestine, and even parts of
Asia Minor, are supplied with boat-loads and camel-loads of oranges from
Tripoli, there is still abundance left to cause them to be a cheap as
well as a delicious luxury. Our duty here, as elsewhere, was to see that
the people of the place and the neighbourhood were well governed—to hear
complaints and bring them in a proper form before the local authorities,
to the end that injured parties might obtain redress—and to enquire into
and make notes of everything that occurred.
The natives had christened my friend “Abu Rish,” which being literally
translated, means “the father of a feather”; they gave him this name
because he always sported a large feather in his cocked hat, which was
seldom set aside in his journeyings. I have no doubt but that many of
the ignorant and half wild natives of some of the villages that we passed
through looked upon this hat and feathers in something the same light as
the native of the savage island regarded that of Captain Cook,
considering it to be a very strangely formed head, an abnormal
amalgamation of the cock with the man.
We were lodged at Tripoli, with the Signor Catsoflis, the British
vice-consul, at whose house we experienced much hospitality. Signor
Catsoflis and his brother, the Austrian vice-consul, are twins; and so
strong is the resemblance between them, that it is barely possible for a
stranger to distinguish the one from the other when apart. The wife of
Signor Catsoflis, the Austrian vice-consul, is the sister of Signor
Elias, the vice consul at Lattakia. I never before, or since, have set
eyes on any woman that could rival her in beauty, and her disposition was
as sweet as her face was lovely. This lady made a complaint to me on
behalf of a fellow Christian, a poor peasant from the mountains, who
accustomed to rove about free, and in such dress as his fancy dictated,
amongst his own villagers, unwittingly made his appearance in the streets
of Tripoli, dressed in a light robe of a greenish colour, which excited
the wrath and indignation of some fanatics, who, saying that none but
descendants from the prophet could be permitted to wear any colour
approaching to green, tore the garment from the poor fellow’s back, beat
and otherwise shamefully ill-treated him; this was the instance of the
complaint. “And now,” said the fair advocate, addressing herself to me,
“let me see if you and your friend are really possessed of such influence
and authority as you vaunt yourselves of, by causing the wrongs of this
poor unoffending man to be redressed.” If anything could have spurred me
to the deed, it was certainly being thus taunted by one of the handsomest
women in the world. I immediately agreed to comply with her wishes, and,
girding on my sword, took the Cawass, and proceeded direct to Yusuf
Pasha. Before going, however, I had donned a pair of Wellington boots
that a European friend had lent me; and the brilliant emerald green of
whose tops must have inspired the gaping Moslems in the streets with the
utmost envy and rage.
I entered into the presence of the governor without even announcing
myself, an abrupt proceeding which not a little disconcerted His
Excellency, who began anxiously to question me, hoping that I was the
bearer of good, not of unfavourable, news. I stated the case to the
governor, and he replied very civilly, that he regretted that it did not
come within his jurisdiction, being purely a question of creed. The
Cadi, however, being summoned to the divan, tried to shuffle out of the
matter as best he could; he said it was decidedly against the law of the
prophet, and that the aggressor merited the punishment. I asked him
whether this law was intended to bear only upon certain individuals, or
upon all. The Cadi replied, upon all; then, said I, if such be the case,
you had better take me and give me a bastinadoing, for as you see,
pointing to my boots, nothing can be a brighter green than those are;
this completely confounded the Cadi. I insisted on having the men
bastinadoed on the very spot where the outrage had been committed; the
consequence was, that after some little demur, I carried the day, and
they were punished as I had directed. This event occasioned immense
sensation amongst the inhabitants, and impressed them with a due notion
of the influence and power of the British nation, tending to keep the
more fanatical within bounds, since no rank, or grade, or riches could
protect them from punishment if they once gave offence to Europeans.
After remaining some time at Tripoli, we proceeded to visit the famous
cedars of Lebanon. There are at present eleven of these celebrated
trees, seven of which are supposed to have existed from the time of the
building of Solomon’s temple. I need scarcely inform my readers how
conspicuously these trees have figured in Scriptural metaphors. The
prophet Ezekiel speaks in glowing terms of their beauty. Again, Isaiah
seems in a remarkable manner to predict their extinction, “The rest of
the trees of this forest shall be few that a child may write them.” How
literally has this prophecy been fulfilled!
On my last visit to Syria I found the priest, to whom the charge of these
trees is committed, had planted a number of seedlings, though with what
success I have not yet heard. A church has also been built on the spot.
The Arabs believe they were planted by the hands of the Almighty himself,
and there are innumerable traditions connected with these trees, which I
hope to give an account of in a future work. One of these cedars is of
so great a diameter, that a monk actually hollowed it out and formed a
sort of room in which he took up his abode. The trunks are covered with
names of travellers, many of a very old date cut out with the knife.
From the cedars we proceeded to the wonderful ruins of Baalbec; but these
have been often described by various travellers. After a beautiful
journey of two days over verdant hills and down deep ravines, we reached
Damascus, where I was pleased beyond measure to meet my connexions and
acquaintances. At this time several European officers were travelling
over Syria in all directions on diplomatic missions. These endeavoured
to ascertain the exact capabilities of every town and village, as regards
the number of men that could bear arms; the number of cattle, horses,
etc.; the arms and quantity of ammunition, and the proportion that the
Moslem population bore to the Christians. Of these gallant officers, one
was sent to Damascus, and whilst residing there, he was very much
captivated by the beauty of the Moslem ladies. On first arriving, this
gentleman was well received by the grey-bearded authorities; but he soon
lost caste; reports and complaints were of every-day occurrence; this
white stranger would persist in making love to the Moslem ladies, and the
Moslem girls would persist in making love to him. This was a dreadful
state of affairs; but this was not all, for even the old Armenian
patriarch was roused into wrath by discovering that a timid little
Armenian girl was actually head over ears in love with the
feather-crowned stranger, or rather with his money. There was no
standing this. The people said it was a crying shame, and reported it to
the Cadi, who complained to Nedjid Pasha; and the Pasha, who was one of
the old school, and a right down Frank hater, complained to the
Commander-in-Chief of the forces at Beyrout. The Commander-in-Chief sent
several officers up to Damascus to investigate the case, which was tried
in open divan before the Pasha, who summoned such as had charges against
the gallant officer to appear before him. The charges brought against
him were twofold. First, that he had endeavoured to subvert the minds of
the people from rendering due homage to Ottoman authority, by asking them
such significant questions as, for instance, If the English or the French
were to lay siege to the country, with which of the powers would you
side? The second charge was, the heinous offence of making love to some
score of Turkish damsels, besides the Armenian lady in question. The
first charge was thrown out as frivolous, absurd, and annoying; the
second was fully proved.
I acted as turjaman Bashi to the Court of enquiry, and from the
circumstance of the gentleman being in a foreign land, I was naturally
disposed to lean rather to the side of the European. The Mahommedans
observed this, and were very spiteful against me. The result of all this
was, that the military gentleman was advised to leave Damascus; but he,
availing himself of a moonless night, put a termination to the whole
affair, by starting off for the sea-coast, carrying away with him a fair,
young widow, who had captured his heart by her dancing, and to whom he
was ultimately married; and, for aught I know to the contrary, they are
to this day a very loving and happy couple. Strange to say, neither
understood a word of each other’s language, and it would appear, from
this example, that words are not necessary where such expressive things
as eyes and flowers are brought into play.
This romantic lady, after a lapse of time, settled at Beyrout, together
with her affectionate husband; the story had preceded them to this place,
but they soon mixed in society as though nothing had happened. The
Syrians, though strictly moral, mingle humanity with their laws of
etiquette; they do not, as in England, for ever exclude from society such
as have been guilty of so trivial a peccadillo as this lady was guilty
of. They remember that all are but frail mortals and apt to err.
To me the English appear to be over severe. It is true, that in Turkey
the Moslems are entitled to four wives, and that in England a man can
only marry one; but I should like to know who is the greater delinquent,
he that avowedly and opening admits of polygamy, or that man, who, as is
often the case amongst society in England, and indeed all Europe, vowing
solemnly at the altar that “_forsaking all others he will keep only with
her_,” marries one wife, and at the same time continues to associate with
half a dozen other women? For my part, whenever I hear of an English
lady eloping, I cannot help fearing that she has been driven to it by the
inconstancy or neglect of a wicked husband.
In Damascus, at the period I am writing of, there dwelt an extraordinary
man, well known to the English who visited the place as the proprietor of
a large hotel, by the name of Sayed Ali; he also filled the office of
chancellor to the English consulate. This extraordinary character could
speak and write several languages with the utmost fluency, and no one
could fathom out what countryman he was, or what creed he professed.
With the English he was an Englishman, and none could doubt his
pronunciation. This was the case with the French; whilst the Turks,
listening in admiration to his high flow of Stamboline Turkish, and his
profound knowledge of the Koran, ranked him amongst the most devout and
most learned of their citizens. One thing only was positive with regard
to Sayed Ali, and that was, that his wife was a Moslem, the daughter of
some fanatical Sheikh. Sayed’s wife had an extremely handsome sister;
who having been seen but once, had captivated the heart of an old English
official, who at that time resided at Damascus; and this gentleman,
notwithstanding the great disparity between them in every respect, in
age, rank and creed, determined, cost what it might, to marry the girl.
Female friends were employed as go-betweens, and these so effectually
wrought upon the imagination of the fair lady, that she actually resolved
to embrace Christianity, and fly for succour to the arms of her lover.
Things had arrived at this pitch, when Sayed Ali accidentally got scent
of what was going on; he subsequently declared to me, that had it not
been for the high official position of the gentleman in question, he
certainly would have shot him; as it was, he contented himself with
calling at his sister-in-law’s house, and knocking at the door drew his
sword; the girl responding to the knock, opened the door, when the
infuriated Sayed Ali made a murderous attack upon her, and inflicted a
wound on her shoulder, a repetition of which must have proved fatal. As
this happened during the day, the noise attracted a crowd around the
house, and the girl was rescued. Rendered desperate by this, Sayed Ali
made a plunge at himself, and inflicted a wound in his abdomen of nearly
an inch deep; not, however, relishing the sensation, the monster drew out
his sword, and calling lustily for aid was forthwith carried away to his
own house. Here he was attended by the English medical officers then at
Damascus. I shortly after called to see him, and to inquire into the
cause of this murderous onslaught. In reply, he told me that his motives
were what I have already stated; he was determined that his name should
not be defamed, or his wife’s family put to shame by the act of a
thoughtless, capricious child, winding up, however, with—
“I’m glad I have not killed her, and for my part I’ll never be such a
fool again as to stab myself to please any one in Damascus.”
The doctor dressed the wounds, and both shortly afterwards recovered,
whilst the greatest delinquent in the affair suffered neither pain or
inconvenience from his gross misconduct. He is now in high office under
the government at Constantinople. This is a fair sample of the abuses
practised by many of those in authority, who in lieu of holding out a
pattern for imitation, both by example and precept, are unfortunately too
prone to indulge their own vicious propensities, setting all propriety,
honour, and justice at defiance. I do not mean to say that all incline
in the same way—that all are addicted to falling desperately in love with
every girl they meet; but this I assert, with very few exceptions, they
have their peculiar fancies, for the gratification of which they stoop to
many acts of meanness. In illustration of what I say, I may be permitted
to quote one more instance,—a case widely different from the foregoing,
and yet equally offensive to honourable minds.
“One man, a sycophant, partly to curry favour with a great man whom he
wished to oblige, partly to satisfy his avaricious propensities, delayed
a steam packet twenty-four hours beyond its fixed time of departure,
because the vessel chanced to sail upon a Saturday, and the great man in
question was a Jew; he detained the steamer till Sunday morning to
accommodate the fastidious Hebrew, and to profit by his commission on the
lordly passage money.
“Now this man is professedly a Christian, but he prefers breaking the
Christian’s sabbath to inconveniencing his friend or his pocket; but
apart from all this, we have still to calculate the losses arising from
the expenses incurred by such a vessel lying unnecessarily idle—the risk
of insurance, and the loss of time to money, cargo, and letters.” {107}
But let us turn to a more pleasing subject. In these latter days of
progression and civilisation, Damascus happily has kept pace with the
other towns in Syria; there has been a large influx of European
merchants. The Greek patriarch has, in the true spirit of civilization,
and after great exertions, established a school which will be productive
of much good.
From Damascus we went down to Sidon, visiting, _en route_, the residence
of the late Lady Hester Stanhope, at Djouni, which was even then fast
falling to decay. Lady Hester I had known personally, and although
clever and eccentric, with a head full of strange fancies, yet she had a
heart not devoid of good feeling and kind intentions. For my part, I can
always recollect, with grateful pleasure, the kind reception I met with
at her house, and if there is any thing which I consider base, it is the
conduct of her biographer (who was also her physician), and who has
abused a sacred trust to pander to the inquisitiveness of the European
world; or else to contribute to the depth and weight of his own purse,
has raked up the ashes of one, who at least towards himself, was the best
of friends and patronesses; and whether the book contains much of truth
or much of imagination, it is either a breach of confidence of the very
worst order, or a libel on the dead which there is none to controvert or
dispute.
At Sidon there, at that time, resided General Loustannau, whose life
abounded more in romantic incidents than all the novels of our most
celebrated writers. In India he had served under a native Prince with
such courage and distinction, and through so long a period of years that
he had amassed an immense fortune. He was at the time of my visit a
half-witted mendicant, one of the many objects of the late Lady Hester
Stanhope’s benevolence, and one who, like herself, was subject to many
extravagant eccentricities. The story of Loustannau is so remarkable
that I cannot refrain from quoting part of it from Mr. Kelly’s work on
Syria:
“General Loustannau was a native of Aidens, in the department of Basses
Pyrénées; his family was not wealthy, and his youthful ardour impelled
him to seek his fortune in foreign lands. Arriving at Bordeaux for the
purpose of embarking for America, he found a vessel about to sail for
India with M. de Saint Lubin, who was commissioned by Louis XVI. to
propose to the Mahrattas a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive,
against the English. Loustannau took advantage of the opportunity, gave
up his American project, and in due time found himself amongst the
Mahrattas. This was in the year 1778, when he was twenty years of age.
War had for some time existed between the Mahrattas and the English, and
Loustannau, who wished to take service with the former, obtained a letter
of recommendation to M. Norogue, a Portuguese officer, who commanded
their forces. That General received him very courteously, but thought
him too young to be entrusted with any command. Loustannau, however,
accompanied the army in its movements, and was witness to the continual
advantages afforded the English by the unskilfulness of General Norogue.
The Mahrattas, though thrice outnumbering their enemies, were constantly
forced to yield their ground; at last the prince succeeded in bringing
the English to an engagement in a position unfavourable to the latter,
inasmuch as it allowed of their being out-flanked by the superior number
of their adversaries. But this did not avail them; the English
entrenched themselves on an eminence from which their batteries committed
great havoc among the Mahrattas. Loustannau observing a height which
commanded the English position, immediately mentioned the fact to
Norogue, who received this communication with supercilious indifference.
Stung to the quick by this contemptuous treatment, Loustannau addressed
himself to a Mahratta chief through an interpreter, and with the reckless
enthusiasm of youth, pledged his head that he would be successful if he
were given the command of a few pieces of cannon. Three thousand horse
and ten guns were placed under his orders; the result surpassed his
hopes, and the English were driven from their position with great loss.
In spite of Norogue’s jealousy, a choncadar with a gold stick was soon
sent in quest of the young Frenchman, who had rendered such essential
service to the national cause. Loustannau was presented to the chiefs
who exercised the regency, and received a magnificent present. He
remained in the service of the Mahrattas, and soon had a corps of 2000
men under his exclusive command. He took part in all the subsequent
operations against the English, and was mainly instrumental in inflicting
upon them those losses which for a while seemed to place our Indian
empire in such imminent jeopardy.
“At the battle of Chassepachrer, he routed our seapoys with great
slaughter; the battle was ended, the English artillery alone continued to
fire a few volleys in its retreat, in order to protect the fugitives,
when a grape-shot struck Loustannau in the left hand and carried off the
four fingers and half the thumb. It was long before he recovered from
the effects of this wound. When the stump was healed, he had a silver
hand of very ingenious workmanship fitted to it. The first day he
appeared at the head of his troops with this new kind of hand, a priest
threw himself prostrate before his horse’s feet, crying out, that the
‘prophecy was fulfilled, since it was written in the temple of the God
Siva, that the Mahrattas were to reach the summit of their glory under a
man from the far west, who should have a silver hand, and prove
invincible.’
“Loustannau was thenceforth looked upon as something almost superhuman.
Diamonds, precious stones, the richest presents of every kind, were
lavished on him from all sides. He was assigned a magnificent palace,
with all the appurtenances of royal luxury. His stables contained thirty
elephants sumptuously caparisoned, and a hundred and fifty horses, the
best that India could produce. His body-guard consisted of 2000 men,
with four pieces of cannon; and the principal chief had two colossal
silver hands planted before the entrance of the palace that all men might
know, by that token, that the man of destiny was the leader of the
national forces.
“Another campaign took place, in which Loustannau was again successful,
and which terminated greatly to the satisfaction of the Mahrattas. On
his return to Azra, he was received with honours such as were used to be
conferred only on princes and sultans; and the ruling prince solemnly
declared him ‘The Lion of the State and the Tiger in War.’
“Loustannau married the daughter of a French officer in India; he had now
been eighteen years among the Mahrattas; he had several children, and his
wife urged him to return to Europe to enjoy the fruits of his toils.
“Notwithstanding his excessive generosity, the wealth he had accumulated
was enormous; but, from the moment he quitted the territory of the
Mahrattas, fortune, which till then had been so lavish to him of her
favours, forsook him all at once, and the rest of his life was but one
series of disasters and sorrows. He converted his whole fortune into
paper, for he had not yet made up his mind where he would settle, and he
did not wish to purchase any estates before his arrival. His homeward
voyage was long and difficult; and he was several times in danger of
shipwreck. When, at last, after a seven-month’s passage, he reached
France, the assignats had fallen into such utter depreciation, that he
found the 8,000,000 of francs he had remitted home dwindled down to
220,000. This first blow made a terrible impression on a temper so
violent as his, and so spoiled by prosperity; but he still possessed a
considerable amount in diamonds, some of which he sold, and with the
proceeds he settled in Tarbes with his family, consisting of two sons and
three daughters. Shortly afterwards, he lost his favourite son, and his
grief was such as to occasion him an attack of insanity, from which he
did not completely recover for two years. When he was restored to his
senses, he set about constructing extensive iron works on the frontiers
of Spain, in order to afford his restless energies an object on which to
employ themselves. For three years, his sole pleasure consisted in
superintending his engineers and workmen, and watching the progress of
the great constructions he planned.
“Things were in this state when fresh misfortunes befell him. He was on
the point of realising the profits of his enterprise, when war broke out
between France and Spain. Immediately upon the first disasters of the
French arms, his buildings were burned, his furnaces destroyed, and his
hopes annihilated. The ruin of his fortune was almost complete, and he
only supported himself by selling, one by one, the costly jewels he had
brought from India. All these misfortunes impaired his reason; he had
continued fits of overwrought devotion, amounting at times to insanity.
His family lived on in this way until 1815, in a state of mediocrity very
hard to endure after their brilliant condition and their opulence in past
years.
“In 1815, Loustannau’s only surviving son, who was a captain in the
imperial guards, was dangerously wounded at Waterloo. His father saw
himself on the point of losing him, and this shock seemed to restore to
him the possession of his faculties. When he recovered, all the revived
energies of his character were concentrated on the thought, how destitute
would be the state of his family after his death; he determined,
therefore to return to India, though many years had elapsed since he left
it. His son wished to go in his stead, but he would not hear of this;
and in 1816 he embarked for Egypt, having raised the necessary funds for
his journey by pledging a ruby of rare value, the last gift of his
Mahratta patron. Not finding in Egypt an opportunity of pursuing his way
by the Red Sea, he crossed over to Syria, with the intention of joining
the caravan from Damascus to Bassorah; but he fell dangerously ill at
Acre, his brain being again affected; he squandered away all his money in
his delirium, and destroyed bills of exchange and other valuable papers.
After this, he suffered for awhile all the horrors of penury, and the
renowned Loustannau—’The Lion of the State and the Tiger in War’—was
reduced to earn his bread as a day-labourer. In this deplorable
condition he was found by M. Catafago, a wealthy Levantine merchant, who
relieved his wants and took him into his house.
“Loustannau had occasionally lucid intervals, in which he talked of his
past greatness, and related the history of his life and his afflictions;
but he had the mortification of seeing that everything he uttered seemed
to his hearers but an additional proof of his insanity. To make all
sure, however, letters were written to France, requesting information
respecting this extraordinary man; and at last his son, who had heard
nothing of him for two years, made all haste to Syria, and found his
unfortunate father almost wholly deprived of reason. His journey to
India was henceforth clearly impossible. The Captain had gathered
together the last remnants of his fortune; and he remained for some time
in Syria, doing everything that affection could suggest, in the hope of
restoring his father to himself.
“It was at this period that the old man’s melancholy story reached the
ears of Lady Hester Stanhope. She was then in the hey-day of her fame,
and she offered Loustannau and his son an asylum in her house. At the
first sight of the latter, she was struck with the resemblance that he
bore to the gallant lover she had lost. From the lines of his hand, the
form of his foot, and the aspect of the stars, she gathered that the life
of Captain Loustannau was destined to be inseparably connected with her
own. The Captain, however, had not lost sight of his Indian project, for
he still hoped to recover some remains of the vast property his father
must have left in that country. Lady Hester dissuaded him from going to
India, and undertook to employ every possible means of recovering what
remained of the old General’s property or fortune; but great changes had
occurred since the old man had left the country. Wellesley’s
(Wellington) victories had put the English in possession of a great
portion of the Mahratta territory; Loustannau’s princely protectors were
no more, and his property had passed into other hands.
“It was a singular chance that brought together in a corner of Syria two
beings so remarkable as General Loustannau and Lady Hester Stanhope; they
had long, mystical conversations together, and Lady Hester looked on
Loustannau as a prophet who was come to prepare the way for her, and to
be the forerunner of her triumph. The Captain sought to beguile the
tedium of his existence by managing the household and the pecuniary
affairs of Lady Hester. She treated him with the most assiduous kindness
until his death, which happened, I believe, in 1825. Her feelings
towards him were those of pure friendship, tinged by the memory of her
youthful affections and stimulated by the fantastic notion that a secret
bond irrevocably united his destiny with her own. After his death, she
had him buried in her garden, and twice every day she visited his grave,
decorated it with flowers, and remained by it absorbed in long reveries.
“General Loustannau’s insanity became more intense after his son’s death,
his delusions being greatly augmented by his intercourse with Lady Hester
Stanhope. Celestial music floated round him; for a while he believed
himself called to give battle to Bonaparte, who, he said, had returned to
the earth under the form of Antichrist; and in 1831 he declared it his
destiny to become king of Jerusalem when the fulness of time should have
been accomplished. He had now warm altercations with Lady Hester; for he
asserted his right to the bay mare with the natural saddle, whilst her
ladyship was to have the white mare, and to ride with him into the Holy
City as his wife, her place being at his left-hand and a little behind
him.
“Her ladyship very soon saw it written in the stars that Loustannau and
herself were to part. Accordingly she had a house fitted up for his
reception at Abra, a village within five miles of her own residence, on
the road to Sidon. But she continued her benevolent protection towards
him, and did not let him want for anything requisite for his comfort.
“Lady Hester died in June, 1839, a few days before the battle of Neizeb,
which she had foretold with rather surprising accuracy. Her wealth was
all gone. She even left considerable debts, and her property was
instantly seized by her creditors. Loustannau being thus once more
reduced to entire destitution, the French consul of Sidon took charge of
him, and gave him a humble lodging in the French khan. Thus this
venerable old man, who had once possessed immense wealth, commanded great
armies, and enriched multitudes of Europeans, now subsisted on charity.
It has long been generally supposed that he was dead, as asserted by M.
Jouay. He is dead, it is true, to all purposes of active life, but he
has still a few lucid intervals in the midst of his harmless religious
insanity. Happily for him, he has almost wholly lost his memory, and of
all his past greatness he recollects nothing distinctly except the title
he bore in India. Often does he proudly repeat that they called him
formerly ‘The Lion of the State and the Tiger in War;’ and then, sadly
reverting to his present condition, he subjoins, ‘And now I am nothing
but an unfortunate beggar.’”
Such is the admirable account given by Mr. Kelly of this singular
individual, who passed through all the stages from happiness and
affluence to misery and destitution. Loustannau is now dead, not only to
purposes of active life, but dead in the literal sense of the word, and
his bones repose in the European cemetery at Sidon; the life of this man
and the site of his troubles affording a fresh incentive for strangers to
visit Sidon, in addition to its ancient fame as a city of the days of
Solomon.
Sidon is perhaps the most delightfully situated town in all Palestine.
Abounding with pleasant gardens, and rides and walks; the climate is
healthy, and the commerce of the place is rising into importance, and the
harbour capable of great improvement. In May, 1851, the families of two
American missionaries established themselves in this neighbourhood, and
already the schools and the works of the mission are prospering.
From Sidon we visited Tyre!—poor, solitary, desolate Tyre—in whose meagre
forsaken town and bare rugged rocks, we had manifest proof of the
never-failing veracity of Scripture prophecy. How else would the once
greatest city of the earth, whose ships visited all parts, whose
merchants had a world-wide reputation, be now an utter desolation,
inhabited only by a few traders and wretched fishermen and their
families, whose daily occupation of spreading out the nets to dry are so
many consecutive proofs of the fulfilment of the words of the prophet.
But so many modern travellers have described these parts, that it would
be useless for me to dwell upon the subject in this work: so we quitted
Sur, the modern Tyre; and a night’s pleasant sail in a small shaktoor
brought us to Acre. St. Jean d’Acre was at this period still suffering
much from the explosion of the powder magazine, which so much assisted
Admiral Napier in his siege; the houses were all tottering ruins, the
mosques minus their minarets, and the stench from the accumulated mass of
decomposed matter, the carcases of camels, sheep and oxen, and in some
places the sun-bleached bones of unhappy beings, in the twinkling of an
eye as it were hurried into eternity; these were a loathsome and
melancholy spectacle.
I may here state, that I was present at the bombardment of Acre, and from
a favourable situation witnessed the terrific result of the “Geyser”
bombshells, which were thrown with such unerring certainty, that, knowing
the position of the powder-magazine, they fired upon it with so nice an
aim, that each succeeding shell struck upon the last in such a manner
that the first thrown was thus forced through the wall, and occasioned
the explosion; but I may further state what is yet a hidden mystery to
the British public, and which in a great measure accounts for the
facility with which this almost impregnable fortress was captured, and
that is, that the Imams and the Cadi of Acre secretly warned the soldiery
not to resist the arms of the British force there assembled, _because_
they were fighting for the Sultan, whom it was their duty, as Mahomedans,
to obey; and, moreover, that in the sight of God and the prophet, there
was no other lawful Moslem king; none to be acknowledged, save the Sultan
of the Sublime Porte, Abdul Medjid; and that if they acted against his
interests, then the Prophet would utterly forsake them, and such as fell
in battle might fully make up their minds to be hurled into eternal
perdition, and that such as fought in his favour would assuredly go to
heaven. Such an exhortation and threat, at such a peculiar time, was
sure to have the desired effect. {119}
Not only did the soldiers fight without spirit, but many of the artillery
actually spiked their guns. Of this latter fact I myself had ocular
demonstration when the engagement was over, and the allied forces landed
at Acre. After this fact, it becomes not the English admiral to boast
too much and compare his success with the failure of Napoleon.
From Acre, still journeying southward, we passed the famous brook Kedron,
so often alluded to in Holy Writ, and passing through the miserable
village of Kaipha, ascended Mount Carmel, and sojourned a couple of days
in the hospitable convent of the Carmelite monks. Leaving Carmel, we
passed through Cæsarea, now an utter desolation, and visited Jaffa and
Gaza, and from the latter place, striking inland, took in succession
Hebron, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, the Dead Sea and the Jordan, besides
visiting all the other towns of any note or importance, all of which have
been often described by European travellers, so that the best thing I can
do is to avoid repetition, and content myself with observing, that the
reality far exceeded my expectations as regards the beauty of the scenery
and the wild picturesque position of almost every town of note in
Palestine. At the same time I deem it most essential to warn the English
travellers to be very careful in the choice of a guide-book, as many,
even up to a very late date, have been published with apparently no other
aim than to puff up the author’s vanity, containing mostly a tissue of
unaccountable misrepresentations from first to last. If the traveller,
in a spirit of knight-errantry, goes forth to visit the holy shores of
Palestine and Syria, hoping there to bask under the bright light of large
sunny-loving eyes—if he thinks to lead the Arab maid captive by the
heart—to win over the smiles of the Grecian, or scampering over desolate
mountains—to fall in with untutored Syrian maids, who sally forth and
carry him from his horse, fatigued and fever-smitten, to be watched over
and cared for by female philanthropists,—if, I say, the traveller quits
England with any such notions, he will return to these shores grievously
disappointed.
Although myself a native of the country, dressed in the costume, and
speaking the language, still, with all these advantages, the maidens
always fled at our approach, not even if they mastered their coyness,
would they ever exchange a syllable with us strangers. Possibly, my
friend and myself were not possessed of that charm which a recent gallant
author, according to his own account, seems to have carried about with
him wherever he went; for he says, that in many parts fathers of families
rushed out and endeavoured to force him into a marriage with their
daughters, or else the maidens themselves, in _villages he had never
before visited_, came forth, having heard of his notoriety (this in parts
where there is no post, and where news travels at the rate of a mile a
week), to meet him with timbrel and dance, and other welcomings. The
only note that ever welcomed us to such villages, was the angry tongue of
a scolding harridan, or else the hooting of the owls, or the cry of the
jackal.