Probability of the existence of Hidden Treasures in the
East--Manuscript pretending to reveal such Treasures, brought
to Lady Hester--She obtains firmáns from the Porte authorizing
her to make researches--She sends to Hamah for Mâlem
Musa--Her letter to the Pasha of Acre--Her plans for raising
money--Journey of the Author to Damascus--His Visit to Ahmed
Bey--Ambergris--Damascus sabres--Horse Bazar--Horse Dealing
and Horse Stealing--M. Beaudin’s night journey to Tyre--His
horse stolen--Detection and punishment of the thieves--Return
of the Author to Mar Elias--His dangerous situation in a
snow-storm--Interior of a Drûze Cottage.
I will now endeavour to explain the business upon which the Capugi
Bashi (or Zâym, as he was more frequently called) had been sent by the
Sublime Porte to Lady Hester. In the preceding year, her ladyship,
during her illness, had upon several occasions hinted at the existence
of hidden treasures, a clue to which she had by some means become
possessed of; but, finding me incredulous on the subject, she dropped
it, and never more spoke of it until the day after the Zâym’s arrival;
when, as I was to assist in the management of the business, she gave me
a history of it, as follows:--
A manuscript was put into her hands, said to have been surreptitiously
copied by a monk, from the records of a Frank monastery in Syria, and
found among his papers after his decease. It was written in Italian,
and disclosed the repositories of immense hoards of money, buried
in the cities of Ascalon, Awgy, and Sidon, in certain spots therein
mentioned.
Persons, whom a residence in the East has made acquainted with the
usages of Eastern nations, consider such events as very probable and
worthy of examination: for there are causes among them which induce
the concealment of riches, not operating in other countries. To make
this clearer, it may not be amiss to enumerate the reasons: firstly,
the want of paper currency, or the bulkiness and weight of specie;
secondly, the non-existence of banks, wherein money may be deposited
in safety; thirdly, the insecurity of private property; fourthly, the
frequency of wars and tumults; lastly, the particular circumstances of
the times in which the treasures in question are supposed to have been
buried, combining all these beforementioned difficulties.
Firstly, it is only in Europe and America, that the public confidence
in the government and in rich individuals has been sufficient to give
general currency to pieces of paper bearing the value of specie: in
the East, no such paper money exists, unless it be in China. Governors
of towns send their tribute to their pasha in bags, on mules and other
beasts of burden, guarded by soldiers: whilst private persons generally
pay their debts where they can in goods and by barter, rather than
send specie, which would be too declaratory of their wealth. A rich
man, who has not the means of investing his money in the purchase of
jewels, houses, lands, &c., feels the hazard of laying up specie in a
trunk or closet, especially as the locks and keys in the East afford
little security, and as iron chests are no where seen excepting in the
counting-houses of European merchants, established among them. Banks
and public funds are, generally speaking, unknown. He is, therefore,
reduced to concealment, either in a hole, or in some subterranean place
constructed for the purpose: more especially if, leaving his house on a
journey, he holds his wife so little worthy of trust that he dares not
make even her acquainted with the secret of his treasures; a case by no
means rare in Turkey, and not uncommon elsewhere.
Not a year passes that a pasha or governor does not lay violent
hands on some rich man, whether Turk or Nazarene. Excuses are never
wanting, either from the frequent peculations which persons employed
under government habitually practise, or from alleged treasonable
correspondence with Franks, or from any other motive which
arbitrary injustice holds good enough for its purposes. To such as
have imprudently made a display of their riches the ransom will be
proportionally high. They have, therefore, no other means of avoiding
similar difficulties than by carefully hiding what they possess, even
from their nearest connections, among whom instances of treachery have
put them on their guard. It is obvious to every traveller in Turkey,
how much the extreme of indigence is affected in the dress and houses
of rich individuals. The receiving apartment of a Christian, more
especially when visited by a Turk, is generally the hall of his house,
sometimes a bench at his door, where everything intentionally indicates
poverty: whilst a Turk pursues the same course towards everybody.
Relatives and intimate friends alone see the interior of each other’s
houses, and it is before these only that a person displays his smart
pipes, his pelisses, his shawls, and his rich silks; so that, in the
most tranquil state of such a government, every possible caution is
necessary to escape the invidious eyes of oppressive masters.
But, when we add to all this the extreme frequency of popular tumults;
of plunder by troops, who own no control; of rebellion, and, its
consequences, sieges, pillages, and precipitate flights; we shall not
wonder if a prudent man never thinks his wealth safe until it is under
ground. Let us take Tripoli for an example. Within the last twenty
years it had undergone five sieges, and every siege had terminated by
sacking the city. The peaceable inhabitant, if he flies, cannot take
his money with him because it is too heavy, if to any amount, even for
a mule to carry (considering that Turkish coins are very bulky, as are
Spanish dollars, the coin chiefly hoarded); and, if he shuts it up in
the strongest chest, he knows that it will inevitably be rifled. He
therefore, if obliged to flee, either throws it into the well, the
cistern, or the water-closet; or, if he has had prudence and foresight
enough to be prepared for such a calamity, he deposits it in some hole
made with a view to this particular purpose.
From such like reasoning as this Lady Hester had no doubt of the
possibility of the existence of hidden treasures. She next examined the
manuscript; and, on observing that it had no signs of antiquity about
it, she was told this was a copy of the original paper, which, through
fear of losing it, had never been taken out of the house. Keeping the
copy, therefore, Lady Hester insisted on seeing the original, and
pretended to treat the matter lightly unless she should be convinced by
the sight of a more authentic document than that before her.
The inhabitants are strongly possessed with the idea that the Franks
who come among them have no other object than to seek treasures
concealed in ancient ruins. They look with indifference themselves on
the works of the ancients as specimens of architecture, and do not
understand how others can be so eager in researches after what they
despise. The admeasurement of an edifice, the copying of an ancient
inscription, is, in their eyes, nothing better than taking the marks of
a golden hoard. Nor can this opinion have originated in anything else
but the certainty, from their own experience, that treasures are often
discovered.[36] Can it be wondered at, therefore, that they should
often have asked me these questions?--“If my lady is not come to seek
for treasures, what is she come for? Is she banished? No: Is she on
mercantile affairs? No: Well, but if she is come, as you say, for her
health, surely in Syria there are more pleasurable spots to be found
than the barren sides of Mount Lebanon.”
With this opinion, therefore, so strongly impressed upon their minds,
she considered that the document might be no more than a forgery
fabricated on purpose by some of the emissaries of the Porte, to make a
trial of her eagerness about it, and thereby assure themselves whether
she were travelling for such an object, or (which is another very
flattering opinion they sometimes have of travellers) as a spy. To
accept the paper, then, was a less dangerous course than to refuse it:
for it is better to be considered as a treasure-hunter than as a secret
agent of a government.
The original copy was produced, and considered by Lady Hester as
genuine. The donor had, most probably, looked to the certainty of an
immediate present for his disclosure, as he had often experienced Lady
Hester’s liberality: but there were many reasons for not immediately
rewarding him; and, knowing the impracticability of a similar attempt
without exposing herself to some risk and to more expense than she
could afford, she determined on making an application to the Porte,
offering them all the pecuniary benefit that might accrue, and
reserving for herself the honour only. She accordingly submitted a
succinct statement to His Excellency Mr. (afterwards Sir Robert)
Liston, to be presented by him to the Reis Effendi. Whether any
correspondence took place on the subject, or whether the business was
_primâ facie_ considered so well worth a trial as to demand no
farther inquiries into it, I do not know: because, as was said before,
the whole affair was matured for execution before I became acquainted
with it.
It may not be improper to add that much reliance must have been
placed on Lady Hester’s judgment, since the manuscript wanted the
very essential confirmation of a date. Therefore, as no clue could be
obtained, after the priest’s death, to the records from which it was
copied, it was not clear at what period the treasures were hidden. That
they were so, when the mosque, mentioned in the manuscript, was still
standing, we gathered from the allusions made to pillars, walls, &c.
We might go farther back, and conclude the deposit to have been made
before the edifice was appropriated to the Mahometan worship--because
Christians are not allowed to enter a mosque, much less to remain long
enough to dig a hole, or take the precautions necessary for such a
concealment. This therefore carries us back to a period of seven or
eight centuries.
How is it possible that a treasure could so long lie untouched, when
the secret of its existence was known? The answer is, that digging and
rummaging in ruins always excites dangerous suspicions in the Turks.
Every traveller in the Levant has heard how certainly the discovery of
a jar of money leads to the ruin of the finder, if known. In vain he
immediately carries it to the governor: his greedy masters suppose that
he has concealed a part for his own use; and the bastinado, nay, often
torture, compels him to yield up the supposed remainder by sacrificing
all he has in the world. His property is confiscated, and poverty and
blows are his reward. So much do examples of this kind terrify, that
some, who have fallen accidentally on jars of coins, have been known
to cover the spot carefully up, and never to speak of it but on their
death-bed; a disclosure more likely to do mischief than good to their
heirs.
On the 28th of January, 1815, Derwish Mustafa Aga, the Zâym, arrived,
as we have already seen, after a journey of many weeks, from
Constantinople, deputed to invest Lady Hester with greater authority
over the Turks than was, probably, ever granted even to any European
ambassador; certainly, than to any unofficial Christian.
Derwish Aga was a short man, about 50 years old. As soon as he had
supped, Lady Hester requested his presence in the saloon, to which he
moved most slowly, moaning and whining on entering the door as though
he had been ill. Giorgio acted as the interpreter: and the aga and
her ladyship remained in private conversation until past midnight. He
was the bearer of three firmans or imperial orders, empowering her
to demand what assistance she might want for the prosecution of her
purpose: one was addressed to the Pasha of Acre; another to the Pasha
of Damascus; and a third to all governors in Syria generally. Derwish
Aga was to put himself entirely under the direction of Lady Hester, and
was to do nothing without consulting her.
On the 29th and 30th he had long conversations with her ladyship, and
tried every device to wind about her, in order to judge what were her
motives for offering to the Porte treasures which others would have
appropriated to their own use: but he invariably found them to be such
as she had professed. He next wanted to make the first excavation at
the spot said to be near Sayda, but her ladyship insisted on Ascalon,
and it was finally so arranged. Considering that an affair of this
magnitude ought not to be trusted entirely to the Capugi Bashi, (and
those enlisted into this service by him) she bethought herself of
Mâlem Musa of Hamah, father of Selim, in whom she had perceived a vast
capacity for business, and on whom she felt she could rely better
than on any other native of her acquaintance. Accordingly a letter
was sent off by express to Hamah nearly in these words: “You know I
am a straitforward person. An affair has happened which demands your
presence at Acre. Be not alarmed; there is nothing serious in it: but
let nothing prevent your coming, short of illness. In such a case, send
Selim, and with him some one who reads and speaks Turkish fluently. But
it would be better that you came together; you to give counsels, and he
to execute them.”
Lady Hester, just returned from a long and fatiguing journey, felt
almost unequal to undertake another: but the Zâym of course urged the
necessity of her presence, and she probably did not wish him to act
without her; so it was arranged that he should precede her to Acre, to
make the necessary preparations. He accordingly departed, accompanied
by Giorgio, who was promoted to be dragoman, and was furnished with
the following letter to the pasha:--“I send your Highness my dragoman,
who will acquaint you with his business, according to the tenor of a
paper which I have put in his hands. In a few days I shall be with you
myself to explain the whole.” The paper was to this effect:--“A person
had put into my hands certain indications of a treasure. His object was
to get money from me: but, as the benefit was not to be mine, (since
I never seek to appropriate to myself the property of others,) it was
not for me to reward him. It would have been natural for me to have
immediately acquainted your Highness with it: but I considered that
there might arise a double mischief from this: first, that, if the
treasure did not exist, the ridicule would fall on you; and secondly,
that, if it did exist, and you had presented it to the Porte, you might
have been suspected of having appropriated a portion to yourself, and
would have been avanized.[37] I therefore addressed myself directly to
the Sultan, assigning to him the same reasons for having kept you in
ignorance that I now give you, and having spoken of you in such terms
as, had you been present, you would have approved of.”
On Wednesday, February 1st, Derwish Aga and Giorgio departed, and it
was fixed for us to follow in ten days.
Lady Hester had considered how she should be able to support the
expense which this affair would bring upon her. Her limited income
scarcely sufficed for her ordinary expenditure, and she had exceeded
it greatly in her late tour to Bâlbec. She therefore came to the
resolution of asking (or, as she expressed it, of obliging) the English
government to pay her; considering that the reputation which she was
giving to the English name was a sufficient warrant for expecting
this remuneration. “I shall beg of you, doctor” (she said) “to keep
a regular account of every article, and will then send in my bill to
government by Mr. Liston; when, if they refuse to pay me, I shall put
it in the newspapers and expose them. And this I shall let them know
very plainly, as I consider it my right, and not a favour: for, if Sir
A. Paget put down the cost of his servants’ liveries after his embassy
to Vienna, and made Mr. Pitt pay him £70,000 for four years, I cannot
see why I should not do the same.”
As both Lady Hester and myself were in want of many articles necessary
on a long journey, she requested me to go to Damascus for them, as well
as to pick up some horses for our riding. Two days before Derwish Aga
departed for Acre, I left Abra, taking with me Mbárak, the lock-picking
servant, and a muleteer. Our road lay to Bisra, already described, and
from Bisra, ascending the mountain upon which I lost myself in October,
1814, we came to the cascade. Here we struck off to the north-east,
and ascended another mountain, at the back of a village called Ayn
Matûr, from the top of which there is a view of the plain of Bisra,
of the glen through which the river Ewely winds, and of the mountains
in which these romantic scenes are embosomed. We then turned to the
east, continuing over a rocky but somewhat level ridge, and reached,
about sunset, a village where Mbárak, the servant, had some respectable
relations. I was taken to their house; a warm room was immediately
provided, and in due time a hot supper made me forget the fatigues of
the day.
This village was the highest to be seen hereabouts, before reaching the
summit of the mountain. It had some good substantial stone dwellings,
and the inhabitants, I was told, were all above want, or, in other
words, in comfortable circumstances. The plague was raging at another
village half a mile off, even at this unusual season of the year. I
retired to rest, whilst, in the adjoining room, Mbárak’s relations
sat the greater part of the night listening to the recital of his
adventures in the journey to Bâlbec, to which he did not fail to add as
many marvels as he could conveniently invent.
The next morning, having thanked my hospitable hosts, I proceeded on my
journey. Half an hour brought us to the foot of the last and highest
chain of mountains, where the snow now lay very thick. When almost at
the top, we met two women on foot, one of whom had neither shoes nor
stockings. I stopped her, and, having a pair of yellow shoes loose in
a bag, I gave them to her, and received her thanks. We soon afterwards
arrived at the summit, and, descending rapidly into the Bkâ, inclined
to the left, until we fell into the same track which we had followed in
1812. The passage over the mountain by which I had now come lies two
or three leagues to the south of that of Barûk. Passing Jub Genýn, we
did not halt until we reached Aita; and on the third day, we arrived at
Damascus.
We had scarcely reached the precincts of the orchard grounds, when we
were stopped by an officer of the excise, who, with a follower or two,
was lurking about the road for the purpose of preventing smuggling. He
was attracted by the sight of my camp-bed, which, in the manner it was
rolled up in its case, looked like a bale of raw silk. Nothing short
of opening the case would satisfy him that it was not silk, and, after
giving me much trouble, he grumbled at his disappointment, and allowed
us to proceed. I rode straight to the house of M. Chaboceau, the French
doctor, of whom I have spoken in a former part of my journal, where
I had reason to suppose I should be hospitably welcomed--nor was I
mistaken.
One of my first visits was to Ahmed Bey. His son, Sulymán, of whom
mention is made so largely at my first visit to Damascus, was no
more. Some months before, in looking too eagerly over the edge of the
housetop, he fell forward, and, unable to save himself, was dashed to
pieces. Yet he had survived the plague in 1813; although Ahmed Bey at
that time lost twenty-one persons of his family, among whom was his
amiable wife. But how was I gratified, yet afflicted, by the visit of
the lovely Fatima! whose exceeding beauty and amiable character, known
to me during the protracted illness of her mother, whom I attended when
at Damascus before, had almost made me forswear the faith I was born
in, and become, for her sake, a convert to Islamism. Informed of my
arrival, she hastened, with the aged Hadjy Murt Mohammed Aga, to see
me. I was shocked to find her blooming youth poisoned with a sickly
yellow hue, and her large and once brilliant eyes now deprived of their
lustre. She had had the plague, and was yet, though so many months had
elapsed, labouring under its terrible effects.
I took Shukhr Aga, one of the bey’s people, with me, and went from
bazar to bazar making purchases. I was shown the largest piece of
ambergris I ever saw. It was of the size and nearly in the shape of a
human skull, which it resembled also in being hollow, this form being
given by the calabashes in which it is collected. It is much used by
the wealthy and luxurious to perfume coffee, which is done by fixing
a piece the size of a pea at the bottom of the coffee-cup. Each time
the boiling coffee is poured upon it, it imparts an agreeable flavour
to the beverage. Ambergris enters frequently into the composition of
aphrodisiacal stimulants, much used by Mahometans.
I purchased a Damascus sabre for 172 piasters. It was of that kind
called in Arabic _tabane_, which means tempered. It will not be
amiss here to advert to the sabres known in Europe by the general name
of Damascus blades, but which are more accurately distinguished in
Turkey, either from their temper, their metal, their form, or their
age. Their temper is known by the clearness of the waves which cover
the surface and indeed penetrate the metal; and the more dense these
are, the better is the metal: to such is applied the term of tabane.
If the blades are very black, then the Turks name them kara Khorasàn
(black steel of Khorasàn): if they are of a lighter hue, tabane Hindy
or Indian-tempered, in which case the waves are farther apart, and
their outline is sometimes broken.
In looking along the blade, the back more especially, a flaw or crack
may sometimes be discovered. This is caused by hammering out the blade
from two eggs, or balls, of metal instead of one, or from thickening,
or from piecing, the blade where defective. Gilt letters engraved on
them are often placed to conceal some such defect, and, in Turkey
generally, detract somewhat from their value, unless the legend happens
to mark great antiquity or the name of a celebrated possessor.
The form most admired, and which peculiarly belongs to those blades
called Damascene, is the narrow blade, curved with an equal bend.
The broad one is called the Stambûl or Constantinople blade, and is
double-edged from the point up to one-third of its length. There is
a blade of a more silvery gray and of a broader wave than the Indian
tabane, which is called nerýz, as I conjecture from the name of some
place where a celebrated manufactory was. All the above mentioned
blades are, in a certain degree, ancient; for the modern Damascus
blades, of which I possess one, are inferior in every respect, and are
known by looking somewhat like blades made wavy with aquafortis.
I was desirous of buying a shawl for a turban; and, from the inquiries
I was led to make on that occasion, compared with what I have observed
since my return to England, I have no doubt cashmere shawls are cheaper
here than in Turkey, as are, at this moment, Damascus sabres, since the
peace has thrown a great many of both into our market.
The horse bazar was held every morning about half an hour after
sunrise, in an open space in the middle of the town. I resorted
thither, and looked about for such horses as I was in search of. I
found that horse-dealing was a system of cheating as extensive in
Damascus as in London; but the public regulations to prevent the
ignorant from becoming the dupes of knaves were good, and, as I was
told, generally speaking, rigidly enforced. I saw, among many ordinary
horses which were sold, a Bedouin filly of two years fetch 500
piasters, or £25. She was iron-gray, which is rather the prevailing
colour of Arab horses; and, although not of the finest breed, still it
was evident that she was eagerly caught up. On coming into the bazar,
you are surrounded by several delàls (brokers). These men endeavour to
find out what your wants are, and busily set about satisfying them.
Horses are ridden at a walk, trot, and gallop, backward and forward
between the double rows of spectators, whilst the delàls, mounted on
their backs, cry aloud what has been bidden, and thus sell them by
auction.
Shukhr Aga, always with me, sought out the delàl generally employed by
Ahmed Bey, and told him what I was in search of. Forthwith he brought
before me several steady mares, among which I selected one, stout,
bony, and in good condition; and, having seen her tried, after much
altercation with the owner, the bargain was struck, and the mare paid
for. The delàl was paid at the regular market agency about one and a
half per cent; and there was besides a fee to the bazar. Horses thus
bought are subject to three days’ trial, within which time they may
be returned, and the money reclaimed. But the best illustration of
horse-dealing in Damascus will be in relating the adventures of M.
Beaudin’s horse, stolen from him, and sold in that very market.
M. Beaudin had left Mar Elias for St. Jean d’Acre on business for
Lady Hester. He rode a brown bay mare, and carried under him his
saddle-bags. His heavy luggage was on an ass conducted by a driver.
Night overtook him near old Tyre, at Ras-el-ayn, a village in which
are the celebrated waters, called by Pococke and other travellers
Solomon’s springs. They turn several water-mills; and one of these he
entered, with a determination to sleep out the night, and pursue his
journey when day broke. He tied up his mare, hung the corn-bag to her
nose; and, putting the saddle-bags under his head as a pillow, covered
himself with his abah, and attempted to sleep. The miller was attending
to his business at the hopper. M. Beaudin had scarcely made himself
comfortable when he heard the footsteps of persons entering the mill;
and, lifting the abah off his face, he saw two ill-looking men, who had
come in, as they said, to escape the rain which was falling very fast.
M. Beaudin thought their appearance suspicious; but he argued with
himself thus: “My saddle-bags are under my head, my mare’s bridle is
almost in my hand; they cannot do _me_ much mischief, and let the
miller look to himself;” so he covered up his face, and went to sleep;
the ass-driver probably had better secured his own animal, and went to
sleep also.
An hour or two afterwards M. Beaudin awoke, and, looking from under
his cloak, saw, to his utter astonishment, that his mare was gone. He
sprang up, and accused the miller, who was still at work, of connivance
in the theft. The poor man seemed as much astonished as M. Beaudin at
the audacity of the thieves, and ran out immediately in pursuit of
them; but they were already far away: and, although Beaudin strongly
suspected the miller of being a party in the crime, it was afterwards
proved that he was altogether innocent.
The night was dark and stormy: M. Beaudin resolved, nevertheless,
to gain the town of Tyre, and hire a horse to pursue his journey.
Accordingly, desiring the muleteer, as soon as it should be daylight,
to go forward on the Acre road, he set off on foot by himself for
Tyre, distant about three miles from Ras-el-ayn. He knew that the way
by the sea-shore was the surest in the dark; but he had not proceeded
far, when he found himself embarrassed among several rivulets; and,
inclining inland to avoid walking through them, he lost his way. He had
a brace of pistols at his girdle, heavy Turkish trousers, and an abah
or cloak. The weight of his clothing was increased by the rain, which
continued to fall, while its pattering drowned the roaring of the surf,
and prevented him from regaining the sea-shore. He wandered about for
some time, until at last he came to a sugar-loaf hill, well known to
such persons as have passed near Tyre, which stands in the middle of
the plain, and has on it a mosque crowned with a double dome, called,
from the similarity of the two, El Ashûk w’el Mashûk (the lover and the
beloved). This mound formerly was the site of some ancient edifice, as
there are portions of an aqueduct still remaining which led from old
Tyre to it, whilst vast stones which lie scattered about its foot bear
evidence of masonry of no modern date.
From El Ashûk a road leads to Tyre. M. Beaudin followed it, and
arrived at the gates of the town before they were opened. He seated
himself on the outside, and waited patiently until daylight, when he
obtained admittance. He then proceeded to the motsellem or governor,
and informed him of what had happened. The motsellem despatched people
in search of the horse and robbers, while M. Beaudin hired a mule
and continued his journey to Acre. On arriving there, Mâlem Häym,
the pasha’s minister, was informed of his loss. M. Beaudin (after he
had executed his commission at Acre), was about to depart for Mar
Elias when he was furnished with a buyurdy or government order to the
motsellem of Tyre, enjoining that officer to give him his own horse
until the stolen one should be found. The particular horse so assigned
was twice as valuable as M. Beaudin’s, who, therefore, politely told
the motsellem that he did not require the pasha’s order to be executed
to the letter, and accordingly received a common horse for present
use, until his own could be recovered. Whilst delayed at Tyre in these
arrangements, he received a small scrap of paper from Lady Hester, whom
he had informed by a letter from Acre of his loss. Upon this scrap of
paper was written, “_Si vous avez perdu votre jument trouvez-la._”
The motsellem promised, and was bound, to make every exertion to bring
the robbery to light. M. Beaudin then proceeded to Mar Elias, and had a
severe reprimand from her ladyship for his negligence!
Some months elapsed, and M. Beaudin still rode the motsellem’s horse,
when it happened that he was despatched by Lady Hester on business to
Damascus; and, on his way back, was stopped by the snow, which had
blocked up the roads. He formed part of a caravan; and, as he was
sitting in the caravansery, during the evening, conversing with a
horseman who was one of the number, to pass the time he related the
story of the loss of his mare. A muleteer, who was listening, asked him
to describe her, and then said he thought he knew where she was.
It appeared that the robbers had immediately taken her from Tyre to
Damascus, where, in the public bazàr, they sold her to a Persian
for 600 piasters (about £30). The laws of the bazàr are, that every
horse sold there must be warranted as known not to have been stolen;
and responsibility, to its full value, falls on the company of
_delàls_. So the stealers, unable to produce a security, had her
returned on their hands. In selecting a Persian, who might be setting
off immediately for his own country, they thought to have evaded this
requisition: but the dealers, who have their eyes on everybody and
everything that passes, felt that they might be called upon for the
money, and so prevented the sale. The stealers tried a second and a
third time, but without success. At last an aga or gentleman, who had
seen the mare more than once in the bazàr, and who suspected something
wrong in the business, pretended to bid for her, and inquired where
she was brought from. The stealers mentioned a village in the Metoualy
country: but, as some persons were known to the aga in that very
village, he put some questions respecting them; and, when he found
that the stealers could not give correct answers, he seized the mare’s
bridle, and said--“My friends, I take this mare home to my stable. When
you can prove to me that you came by her fairly, I will then restore
her.” Guilt, we may suppose, made the men fearful: for, after some
words, the aga led the mare away without any resistance.
M. Beaudin was informed by the muleteer of the residence of the aga;
but, on account of the inclemency of the weather, deferred going
thither at that moment. He returned to Mar Elias; and, in a few days,
went after the mare. The aga, on hearing his story, delivered her to
him; and information was laid against the pretended owners. They were
apprehended, convicted of being the stealers, and one of them was
hanged, without any law expenses whatever. The peculiar variations,
from beginning to end, in the suspicions, discovery, and punishment of
the theft, compared with a similar event in England, are too obvious to
make it necessary to point them out to the reader.
To return to my narrative, I was much surprised to find Mâlem Musa
at Damascus; and, knowing that an express messenger had, as I have
before mentioned, been sent off to him to Hamah, I told him of it,
and repeated from memory the letter, the contents of which I knew,
as having been privy to the writing of it. The conduct of Musa on
this occasion will show how wary Levantines are in incurring the
suspicion of being in secret correspondence with Europeans. Although
the business concerned nobody but himself, and was known to nobody
else, he immediately communicated it to the Jew seràfs, Mâlem Yusef and
Rafáel, pretending that he was all astonishment at what Lady Hester
could mean by wanting him. I, however, judged it proper to send off a
letter to her ladyship, informing her that he was here, and begging a
corroboration, under her hand, of the communication I had made him. The
muleteer was, on the 10th of February, despatched with this letter,
and with another from Mâlem Musa. During his absence, which was six or
seven days, I completed the purchases I had to make. When Sulymán (that
was the muleteer’s name) returned, Mâlem Musa received permission from
the pasha to go to Acre, where he was to meet Lady Hester; and, having
finished my business, I set off for Mar Elias.
Much snow had fallen in the interim. There were two mule loads of
baggage, and I was mounted on my newly-purchased mare. The highest part
of the Antilebanon is very elevated ground; and we suffered greatly
from the wet and cold, when, on the first night, we arrived at Halwell,
where I slept almost under my horse’s legs, in a place no better than
a shed. The second night we reached Jûb Genýn, where we were informed
that the pass of Mount Lebanon was impracticable, owing to the snow.
However, as my return, I knew, was waited for impatiently by Lady
Hester, I resolved to attempt it on the following day.
From Jûb Genýn we arrived at the foot of the mountain early in the day,
when we began to ascend; and at noon we had reached the part where the
snow lay. There was no fresh track, by which we plainly understood that
none but ourselves had made the trial that day. We had nearly reached
the summit, when, as we were advancing, a storm of snow, or what is
called on the Alps a _tourmente_, came on, and in a moment the
view around us was bounded to fifteen or twenty paces. Sulymán was a
daring and resolute Drûze, and promised yet to carry me through it.
We had advanced about a hundred yards, when one of the mules slipped
into a hole, which the snow had covered, fell, and could not, from the
weight of his load, rise again. We unloaded him; and, when extricated,
replaced his burden on his back. We had not advanced much farther when
my mare sunk in up to her belly; and, in plunging about, caught the end
of my cloak in her fore-foot, and pulled me off. The mule, that had
fallen before, at the same time swerved from the path, and rolled over.
Being unable to rise, the girths were cut to relieve her.
It has been mentioned more than once, that stockings and gloves are
not worn in Syria. Mbárak, from the exertion he had used in assisting
the muleteer, became afterwards very cold, and now complained that his
feet and hands felt almost frozen. We made many ineffectual attempts
to reload the mule, but the snow and wind were so rigorously sharp,
that we began to think, if we delayed any longer, we should be lost
altogether. I therefore resolved on abandoning the luggage, which
was accordingly put together in a heap on the snow; and on the heap
was a species of otter, alive in a box, which I had brought from
Damascus as a curiosity. As we had evidently lost the track, we took
the direction which we thought would bring us to it; when, after
wandering about for half an hour, every moment tumbling into holes
and over stumps of trees, we found ourselves, to our dismay, close
to the luggage again. Sulymán’s courage now became desperation, and,
drawing his yatagán, he was going to stab his mules, saying it was
better to kill them outright than leave them to be frozen to death.
This design I prevented, insisting that we must now try to retrace our
steps to the plain of the Bkâ as the only chance we had of saving our
lives. Mbárak, by this time, had begun to complain most bitterly, and
could scarcely be persuaded to advance. We were unable any longer
to discern the footsteps we had ourselves made in coming; for the
snow had already effaced them. Fortunately, the bend of the trees,
caused by the prevalence of a constant wind, suggested to Sulymán the
direction we ought to take, and, guided by this, we slowly returned.
Providence assisted us. We had gone on for about half an hour, when the
_tourmente_ ceased, and a comparative serenity in the atmosphere
enabled us to regain the path by which we had ascended: but Mbárak was
now helpless, and we had much ado in keeping him from sitting down,
for I opposed his riding, as the only chance of preventing the fatal
effects of the cold on his extremities.
It was dark before we reached the foot of the mountain, and some
lights directed us to a few wretched cottages, which Sulymán knew to
be the hamlet of Khurby,[38] and where, when at Jûb Genýn, we had
been informed the plague was raging; but, I believe, if worse than
the plague had then faced us, we should have thought it preferable to
what we had just left: so we knocked at the first door we came to,
and requested that some empty stable or outhouse might be given us,
where, having made a fire, we sheltered ourselves. We had scarcely
entered when Mbàrak fainted away. Sulymán was much astonished when
I insisted on his being laid in the corner farthest from the fire,
where we rubbed his limbs and his feet, until he came to himself,
when, from pain and fear, he kept up a grievous moaning. Sulymán next
procured some barley for the animals, and I endeavoured to find a dry
spot to lie down on, but it was impossible. The villagers at first
refused to give us anything to eat: but there is a law which subjects
any place wherein a person dies from want to a considerable fine; and
the apprehension of Mbarak’s perishing during the night, which, as he
lay, seemed likely, frightened them, and they brought us some bread and
porridge.
What a miserable night did I pass! Morning at length came; and then
the person calling himself the bailiff of the hamlet offered, for a
reasonable reward, four men to assist us in recovering the baggage.
These people are well acquainted with the mountain. They guided us up,
and we were fortunate enough to find every thing as we had left it.
The otter was alive, nor did he die until some time afterwards. The
luggage was carried on the backs of the peasants and of Sulymán, until
we reached the descent to the west; when, having re-loaded, I rewarded
the peasants, and in a short time we reached Barûk, where the snow
disappeared. In order to make up for the loss of time on the preceding
day, Sulymán was told to hurry on. We left Dayr el Kamar on the right
of us, and arrived at sunset at Ayn-bayl, a Drûze village, inhabited
chiefly by muleteers, among whom was one who had served Lady Hester in
the journey to Bâlbec. To his house Sulymán led me to pass the night.
The wife gave me the best entertainment in her power; and to convey
some idea of the interior of a Drûze cottage, I will relate how I
passed the evening.
A narrow carpet, kept doubled up, excepting on days of ceremony, was
spread on one side of the clay floor, which, from being well rubbed
with a smooth round boulder, shone like a mirror. The cottage was of
stone, one story high, and flat-roofed, with a shed close by which
served for a stable, and no other out-houses whatever. The cottage
was divided in two, by a partition not reaching to the ceiling, which
was of beams and rafters, trimmed with an adze only. Round the room
were several sun-baked clay barrels, about three feet high, but of
small circumference: these were filled with wheat-flour, figs, borgûl,
lentils, rice, &c. The muleteer’s wife busied herself in preparing
my supper at a fireplace, made of a few rude stones outside of the
door. As she came in and out to fetch the different articles which
she wanted, she carefully concealed her face by pinching together her
veil, which was of long white crape, falling gracefully from the point
of her horn, so that only one eye was seen. In the same room with me
sat Sulymán and Mbárak, with six or eight Drûzes, who dropped in one
by one on the news of our arrival, and to whom Sulymán was earnestly
relating the adventures of the preceding night. They invariably, as
they entered, civilly saluted everybody, and there was much decorum
in their manners, which is, however, not peculiar to the Drûzes, but
is universal among the different classes of society throughout Turkey.
Whenever the husband spoke to his wife she answered in low feminine
accents, for it would have been discreditable to her, had she, whilst
strangers were by, laughed or vociferated.
When supper was ready, which consisted of a dish of boiled rice, some
dibs and leben, and a few figs and raisins for the dessert, it was
served up on a wooden table about two feet in diameter, and six inches
from the ground, with box-wood spoons alone to eat with. After supper,
my own travelling stock afforded coffee, with which the whole party
was regaled, smoking their pipes, and appearing as soberly merry as
pious Christians round a winter fire; for nowhere will you see so much
cheerfulness without loud laughter, and sedateness without gloom, as
among this people.