VII.

DAMASCUS, May 2, 1895.

We are stopping at the Grand Hotel, Besraoui; and we find it first-class. When we alighted from our horses in front of the hotel, two large iron doors, some fifteen feet high, swung open. In one of these doors is the needle eye; that is, a small door in one of the large doors, that can be used when the large doors are closed, although a short person has to stoop to pass through. We enter a hall or vestibule. At your right is the office, at your left the parlor. In front is a court some fifty feet square, paved with marble, large fountain in the centre, lemon trees growing, full of fruit. Before stepping into this court, you can turn to the right or left, going up stairs leading on to balconies that are built round on three sides of the court. From these balconies you open the doors into your rooms. We are located on the first floor, having a very pleasant room.

We remain here until Tuesday, the 7th, then finish our camping tour to Beyrout.

You will remember that Paul went to the street called Straight, to the house of Judas, and Ananias was sent for, etc. This street referred to was a wonderful street, although it was not straight, but was the nearest to the line and plummet of any street in Damascus; for, if you wish to get angles and curves to perfection, then come to this city. The street called Straight in Paul’s day was ninety feet wide, and was the great market-place.

Here come the caravans from Persia,--a hundred camels at once, loaded with merchandise. Since that time buildings have been put through the centre of the street, making two streets out of one, and greatly increasing the number of bazaars; and the camels stop outside the city.

While Damascus has shade-trees and many fine things, yet a large part of it is filthy; and our party think they prefer Cairo. The people in Cairo are not as foreign as they are in Damascus. The people here use mostly goats’ milk. We see droves of them coming into the city to be milked, but no cows. The churning of milk or cream through Palestine and Syria is done in goat-skins, which are sewed up, then the milk put inside and shaken.

When we were passing through the Bedouin country, the women and children would come out with the dirtiest, crudest-looking receptacles, with milk and buttermilk to sell; but I think our party must have been out of funds, for I did not see them purchase any of the tempting nectar. We have also been interested in the way the people do their washing. They go to the brook and wash the clothes on a flat rock, sometimes using another flat stone to pound and rub them with. The people and their ways are extremely queer to us, but I presume we are as much of a curiosity to them.

We found here in Damascus to-day the father of lemons. It measured the smallest way round thirteen and one-half inches, the other way seventeen inches. We of course took the largest one in the pile to try our tape-line on.

They keep six thousand soldiers here to look after the peace of the city. Safety would call for more rather than less.

The last day of our stay here our party took a carriage ride through and around Damascus, and drove on to the hill near the mountain where Mohammed stood when he admired the city so much; and we could but exclaim, “Beautiful!” But as we had been through its dusty streets, and seen its miserable houses, we decided it was one of those places where distance lends enchantment. The sweeping waters of the Abana pass close by our hotel.

Tuesday morning, the 7th, we were on our horses, and bade good-by to Damascus, directing our course up the beautiful Abana, and soon were in a narrow valley between the high mountains, and our eyes were drinking in the finest scenery in the world. The road was fine, being the main road to Beyrout.

After an hour’s ride we turned to the right, and took to the mountains, for Baalbec was our objective point; and we found ourselves going over the Anti-Libanus Mountain, which gave us some grand scenery. We could at times look down thousands of feet into the valley of green trees, and see the Abana River and the new railroad that is being built, meandering their way down to the great city of Damascus. We scale the mountain, and descend into a valley, where we find one of the tributaries of the Abana boiling up from under large rocks at the base of the mountain; and we wonder and admire to see the great quantities of pure water rushing away from this fountain, going on its errand of mercy to the arid plains below. Here was a beautiful grove cooled by the rivers of water; and our dragoman had spread our lunch table in the cooling shade, where we spent two enjoyable hours. As a little episode, one of our horses broke down one of the trees in the grove. Very soon a middle-aged woman appeared, gesticulating and jabbering with all her powers, her eyes flashing. I thought at first we were to be driven off the grounds. Evidently, she believed in woman’s rights; and I rather admired her spunk, but was disgusted to see how easily she was bought up. Our head dragoman went and picked up a few pieces of bread we had left at lunch, and gave to her; and she went off, smiling and happy as a clam in high water.

After two hours’ ride we reached the town of Suk, where we camped for the night. Here the mountains are near to us, rising almost perpendicular more than one thousand feet. Upon the top of one of these mountains you will see a tomb, a building quite conspicuous. Tradition says it is the tomb of Abel.

Our tents are close by the new railroad they are building from Damascus to Beyrout. We examined it, and found that they were laying the rails on iron ties. They are made like a trough, and bolted firmly to these iron sleepers.

Wednesday morning we commence our journey, going through the grandest scenery we have seen this side of the Atlantic. In half an hour we halt, and look over the sections of the old Roman road. Another half-hour brings us into a broad, fertile valley, should call it the Esdraelon of Syria.

Since we left Damascus we have been crossing the Anti-Lebanon Mountains, sometimes in the valleys, then again on the mountains, most of the time old snow-capped Hermon plain in view. 5 P.M. finds us tented at the town of Yafufeh.

Thursday morning, the 9th, we are off for Baalbec, having a ride of four hours, arriving at 10 A.M. Here we spend the rest of the day, as there is much of interest to look over. There might be a book written confined to Baalbec, or Heliopolis, its ancient name, the former meaning God of the Valley, the latter City of the Sun. But time will only permit me to give you a few outlines, and advise you, if ever in Syria, not to fail to see the most wonderful ruins in the world. You will be amazed by both quantity and quality of the ruins, covering acres of ground. In its walls are stones for you to examine, sixty-three feet long, thirteen feet in breadth and width, that weigh twelve hundred tons, some of them twenty feet from the ground. How to place such a stone in position would be a hard problem for the stone-masons of the nineteenth century to solve. In wandering through these, you are continually reminded that once, notwithstanding its vastness, it must have been beautiful. The beautiful stucco-work of to-day might well be traced back to the carving in stone seen in these ruins. It is somewhat of a mystery who commenced these temples. Some suppose it to have been Solomon. It must have been a man of great resources.

Baalbec has now five thousand inhabitants, many Christians among them, and a much better class of people than the average in Syria. It was at one time a commercial centre. It is beautiful for situation, is near the base of the Anti-Lebanon Mountains, near the head of the plain or valley Bekaa, or the old name Cœle-Syria, and divides Anti-Lebanon from Lebanon. There is a large spring coming out of the mountain about a mile above the town, which forms quite a river of pure water that flows through the city; and the plain below this covers the valley about Baalbec with beautiful groves and great variety of trees, both useful and ornamental. Up to this fountain, named Rosel Ain, from the town, is a charming drive, the avenue lined each side with willows nourished by the stream of water that follows the avenue. At the west you see the Lebanon Mountain; and a short ride will take you to the cedar groves, the pride of this historic elevation. Those forests, we understand, have been greatly reduced since Solomon’s time. You will remember that Hiram furnished Solomon with great quantities of this timber when he built the temple. Solomon sent eighty thousand men to perform the work. This would open the eyes even of a Maine or Michigan man, to see such a logging camp. This was used in Solomon’s palaces, as well as the temple. Herod also drew upon the forest. In history wars and rumors of wars have hovered around Baalbec; and it has suffered in that way, as have all important centres in this country. At one time one of the temples was turned into a fortress.

Sun-worship was the leading idolatry, and every year they sacrificed human beings. At a later day Constantine came in, and for a while established Christian worship. The destruction of these temples has mostly been by earthquakes,--granite columns, from four to six feet through, broken in pieces, piled up in heaps, the wall in many places shaken down.

Friday morning, the 10th, we are on the east side of the Cœle-Syria valley; and in leaving this place, Baalbec, we take a carriage road, which is quite a treat to us. Following this road, we cross to the west side of the plain, then, turning southward, we ride all day down this beautiful valley, and at night are camped near Shatora. At this place we strike the diligence road from Damascus to Beyrout. This road, seventy miles in length, was built by a French company, and crosses over Mount Lebanon. It must have been expensive; but they apply the toll to it, so they receive about twenty per cent. on their investment. The road is a fine one, and the engineering over the mountain made me think of the railroad over the Rocky Mountains.

SATURDAY, the 11th.

To-day we finish our camping tour. We are to cross over Mount Lebanon, reaching Beyrout, thirty-five miles distant. So at six o’clock we are in the saddle, and soon begin to climb the mountain, looking back down into the valley and across to Anti-Lebanon; and in the distance beyond is old snow-capped Hermon. This old fellow has had his eye on us most of the time for the last ten days; but up we climb until about eleven o’clock, and find ourselves on top of Mount Lebanon, and at twelve stop for lunch at the town of Kahnel Sheik. You will remember that our first lunch was at Bethel; and here at this place we say Amen, and bid good-by to our tents.

From this point you can see the blue Mediterranean; and upon an elevation lies the city of Beyrout, dipping her feet down into the sea. This side of the city, and at the foot of the mountain, is a valley sweeping around the city, covered with trees, dotted with white cottages, forming the suburbs of the city, the sleeping place for the busy crowd that spend the day-time near the sea. We can look down into many ravines, see many villages tucked away in retirement, and at other places they have hung them up on the mountains, and we wonder how in the world the people ever reach their homes; but, where there is a will, there is a way.

The day has been one of grand scenery; and, after halting an hour, we move on down the mountain, and when within some four miles of the city we meet a very pleasant surprise. It seems the people of the American college here in Beyrout had been watching us, and were ready to give us a welcome. In the distance we saw a troop of men coming on fine horses. This cavalcade proved to be President Bliss, who was born in Georgia, Vt., with his professors, also Mr. Gibson, the American consul. President Bliss has a personal acquaintance with some of our party, and we were very pleasantly escorted into Beyrout.

The last few days we have been among the mulberry-trees, and one of the products of this country is silk. In Damascus there are three thousand hand looms weaving this article, also great quantities produced here in Beyrout. So, young ladies, if you admire silk dresses, here is the place to come.

Over the road between here and Damascus, which I have referred to, they run a vehicle each way every day, called a diligence. It is somewhat different from a Concord coach. It seats twelve persons, all inside, except the man that holds the ribbons. They start early in the morning, reaching their destination at 5 P.M., covering the seventy miles in that time. Six horses is the number used, driving three abreast; and they have a fresh relay every six miles.

We spend eight days here in Beyrout, and then sail for Athens, making several calls along the coast.

Will give you more about Beyrout and beyond here in my next letter.