Aurelian soon repented of his severity. He wrote to Bassus: – “You must now sheathe the sword; the Palmyrenes have been sufficiently slaughtered. We have not spared women; we have slain children; we have strangled old men; we have destroyed the husbandmen. To whom, then, shall we leave the land? To whom shall we leave the city? We must spare those who remain; for we think, that the few there are now existing, will take warning from the punishment of the many who have been destroyed.”
The emperor then goes on to desire his lieutenant to rebuild the Temple of the Sun as magnificently as it had been in times past; to expend 300 pounds weight of gold, which he had found in the coffers of Zenobia, beside 1800 pounds weight of silver, which was raised from the sale of the people’s goods; together with the crown jewels, all which he ordered to be sold, to make money to beautify the temple; while he himself promises to write to the Senate, to send a priest from Rome to dedicate it. But, in the language of Gibbon, it is easier to destroy than it is to restore.
Zenobia was now to be led to the conqueror’s triumph. This triumph was celebrated with extraordinary magnificence. It was opened by twenty elephants, four royal tigers, and above two hundred of the most curious animals from every climate of the known world. Ambassadors from Æthiopia, Arabia, Persia, Bactriana, India, and China, attended the triumph; and a long train of captives, – Goths, Vandals, Sarmatians, Alemanni, Franks, Gauls, Syrians, and Egyptians. Amongst these, Zenobia. She was confined in fetters of gold; a slave supported the gold chain which encircled her neck, and she almost fainted under the weight of her jewels. She did not ride, but walk! preceded by the chariot in which she had once indulged the vain hope of entering Rome as empress62.
The Palmyrenes63, says Zosimus, had several declarations from the gods, which portended the overthrow of their empire; and, among others, having consulted the temple of Apollo, at Seleucia in Cilicia, to know if they should ever obtain the empire of the East, they got the following unceremonious answer:
Avoid my temple, cursed, treacherous nation!
You even put the gods themselves in passion.
The religion of the Palmyrenes, it is evident, was pagan; their government, for the most part, republican; but their laws are entirely lost; nor can anything be known in respect to their polity, but what may be gathered from the inscriptions. Their chief deity was the Sun.
In regard to their knowledge of art, they have left the finest specimens in the ruins that now remain; and, doubtless, Longinus’ work on the Sublime was written within its walls. “From these hints we may see,” says Mr. Wood, “that this people copied after great models in their manners, their vices, and their virtues. Their funeral customs were from Egypt, their luxury was Persian, and their letters and arts were from the Greeks. Their situation in the midst of these three great nations makes it reasonable to suppose, that they adopted most of their customs and manners. But to say more on that head from such scanty materials, would be to indulge too much in mere conjecture, which seems rather the privilege of the reader than of the writer.”
Some years after this, we find Diocletian erecting several buildings here; but what they were is not stated. Justinian, also, repaired Palmyra, which, according to Procopius, had been almost entirely deserted. These repairs, however, are supposed to have reference rather to strength than to ornament; and this is the last mention of Palmyra in Roman history.
The various fortunes of Palmyra, to and from the time of Mahomet’s appearance, are scarcely known, except that it was considered as a place of great strength; and that in the twelfth century, A. D. 1171, there were, according to Benjamin of Tudela, who visited the spot in that year, two thousand Jews in it.
Palmyra, according to the Arabs, once occupied an area nearly ten miles in circumference, and is supposed to have been reduced to its present confined and ruined state by the quantities of sand64 driven on it by whirlwinds.
The walls of the city were flanked by square towers. They were three miles in circumference, and it is imagined that they included the great temple. What remains there are of the wall, do not look, according to Mr. Wood, unlike the work of Justinian; and may be part of the repairs mentioned by Procopius; and the highest antiquity anything else can claim is the time of the Mamelukes.
Примечание 165
We shall now give place to accounts in respect to the first impressions, made by these ruins on the minds of different travellers.
Mr. Halifax says66, “the city itself appears to have been of a large extent by the space now taken up by the ruins;” but that there are no footsteps of any walls remaining, nor is it possible to judge of the ancient figure of the place. The present inhabitants, as they are poor, miserable, dirty people, so they have shut themselves up, to the number of about thirty or forty families, in little huts made of dirt, within the walls of a spacious court, which inclosed a most magnificent heathen temple: thereinto also Mr. Halifax’s party entered, the whole village being gathered together at the door; whether to stand upon their defence in case the strangers proved enemies (for some of them had guns in their hands), or out of mere curiosity to gaze, he knew not. However the guide, who was an Arab whom Assyne their king had sent to conduct them through the village, being a man known among them, they had an easy admittance; and, with a great many welcomes in their language, were led to the sheik’s house, with whom they took up their abode. “And to mention here what the place at first view represented, certainly the world itself could not afford the like mixture of remains of greatest state and magnificence, together with the extremity of poverty and wretchedness.” The nearest parallel Mr. Halifax could think of, was that of the temple of Baal, destroyed by Jehu, and converted into a draught-house.
“We had scarce passed the sepulchres,” says Mr. Wood, “when the hills opening discovered to us all at once the greatest quantity of ruins we had ever seen, all of white marble; and beyond them, towards the Euphrates, a flat waste as far as the eye could reach, without any object that showed either life or motion.”
When Mr. Wood’s party arrived, they were conducted to one of the huts, of which there were about thirty, in the court of the great temple. The inhabitants of both sexes were well-shaped, and the women, though very swarthy, had good features. They were veiled; but did not so scrupulously conceal their faces as the Eastern women generally do. They paint the ends of their fingers red, their lips blue, and their eyebrows and eyelashes black67.
They had large rings of gold or brass in their ears and nostrils, and appeared to be healthy and robust.
The ruins were next visited by Mr. Bruce: – “When we arrived at the top of the hill,” says he, “there opened before us, the most astonishing, stupendous, sight, that perhaps ever appeared to mortal sight. The whole plain below, which was very extensive, was covered so thick with magnificent ruins, as the one seemed to touch the other, all of fine proportions, all of agreeable forms, all composed of white stone, which, at that distance, appeared like marble. At the end of it stood the Palace of the Sun, a building worthy so magnificent a scene.”
The effect on the imagination of Mr. Addison appears to have been equally lively: – “At the end of the sandy plain,” says he, “the eye rests upon the lofty columns of the Temple of the Sun, encompassed by a dark elevated mass of ruined buildings; and beyond, all around, and right and left towards the Euphrates, as far as the eye can reach, extends the vast level naked flat of the great desert, over which the eye runs in every direction, piercing the boundless horizon, without discovering a human being or a trace of man. Naked, solitary, unlimited space extends around, where man never breathes under the shade, or rests his limbs under the cover of a dwelling. A deep blue tint spreads along its surface, here and there shaded with a cast of brown; the distant outline of the horizon is clear and sharply defined; not an eminence rises to break the monotonous flat, and along the edge extends a large district covered with salt, distinguished from the rest by its peculiar colour.
“There is something grand and awe-inspiring in its boundless immensity. Like the first view of the ocean, it inspires emotions, never before experienced, unearthly in appearance, and out of character with the general fair face of nature. The eye shrinks from contemplating the empty, cheerless solitude, and we turn away in quest of some object to remove the scenes of utter loneliness, that its gloomy aspect is calculated to inspire.”
From these pages we turn with satisfaction to those of an American: – “I have stood before the Parthenon, and have almost worshipped that divine achievement of the immortal Phidias. I have been at Milan, at Ephesus, at Alexandria, at Antioch; but in none of these renowned cities I have beheld any thing, that I can allow to approach in united extent, grandeur, and most consummate beauty, this almost more than work of man. On each side of this, the central point, there rose upward slender pyramids – pointed obelisks – domes of the most graceful proportions, columns, arches, and lofty towers, for number and for form, beyond my power to describe. These buildings, as well as the walls of the city, being all either of white marble, or of some stone as white, and being everywhere in their whole extent interspersed, as I have already said, with multitudes of overshadowing palm trees, perfectly filled and satisfied my sense of beauty, and made me feel, for the moment, as if in such a scene I should love to dwell, and there end my days.”
Burckhardt speaks thus of Palmyra and Balbec: – “Having seen the ruins of Tadmor, a comparison between these two renowned remains of antiquity naturally offered itself to my mind. The temple of the Sun at Tadmor, is upon a grander scale than that of Balbec, but it is choked with Arab houses, which admit only a view of the building in detail. The architecture of Balbec is richer than that of Tadmor.”
In respect to the ruins, we must content ourselves with giving a very general account, as it would be impossible to render a minute description intelligible without the aid of plates.68 Our account will be a compilation from those given by Mr. Halifax, Mr. Wood, Mr. Bruce, Mr. Addison, and other writers, who have been there.
The entire number of distinct buildings, which may still be traced, are from forty to fifty. To the northward of the valley of the tombs, on the highest eminence in the immediate vicinity, towers the ruined Turkish or Saracenic castle. It is seated on the very summit of the mountain, and surrounded by a deep ditch, cut out of the solid rock. It is said by the Arabs to have been built by Man Ogle, a prince of the Druses; its deserted chambers and passages partake of the universal solitude and silence; there is not a living thing about it; it seems to be deserted even by the bats.
From this castle is seen an extensive view round about: you see Tadmor under you, inclosed on three sides with long ridges of mountains, which open towards the east gradually, to the distance of about an hour’s riding; but to the east stretches a vast plain beyond the reach of the eye. In this plain you see a large valley of salt, lying about an hour’s distance from the city69.
It is imagined by the Persians that this castle, as well as the edifices at Balbec, were built by genii, for the purposes of hiding in their subterranean caverns immense treasures, which still remain there70. “All these things,” said one of the Arabs to Mr. Wood, “were done by Solyman ebn Doud, (Solomon, the son of David,) by the assistance of spirits.”
But of all the monuments of art and magnificence, the most considerable is the Temple of the Sun.
This temple, says Bruce, is very much ruined; of its peristyle there only remains70 a few columns entire, Corinthian, fluted and very elegant, though apparently of slenderer proportions than ten diameters. Their capitals are quite destroyed. The ornament of the outer gate are, some of them, of great beauty, both as to execution and design.
Within the court are the remains of two rows of very noble marble pillars, thirty-seven feet high. The temple was encompassed with another row of pillars, fifty feet high; but the temple itself was only thirty-three yards in length, and thirteen or fourteen in breadth. This is now converted into a mosque, and ornamented after the Turkish manner.
North of this place is an OBELISK, consisting of seven large stones, besides its capital, and the wreathed work above it, about fifty feet high, and just above the pedestal twelve in circumference. Upon this was probably a statue, which the Turks have destroyed.
On the west side is a most magnificent arch, on the remains of which are some vines and clusters of grapes, carved in the boldest imitation of nature that can be conceived.
Just over the door are discerned a pair of wings, which extend its whole breadth; the body to which they belong is totally destroyed, and it cannot now certainly be known, whether it was that of an eagle or of a cherub, several representations of both being visible on other fragments of the building.
The north end of the building is adorned with a curious fret-work and bas-relief; and in the middle there is a dome or cupola, about ten feet in diameter, which appears to have been either hewn out of the rock, or moulded of some composition, which, by time, is grown equally hard.
At about the distance of a mile from the OBELISK are two others, besides the fragment of a third; hence it has been reasonably suggested, that they were a continued row.
Every spot of ground intervening between the walls and columns, is laid out in plantations of corn and olives, inclosed by mud walls.
In the direction of the mountains lie fragments of stone, here and there columns stand erect, and clumps of broken pillars are met with at intervals. All this space seems to have been covered with small temples and ornamental buildings, approached by colonnades.
Next to the temple, the most remarkable structure is the long portico, which commences about two thousand two hundred feet to the north-west of the temple, and extends for nearly four thousand feet further in the same direction. “It is a remark worthy the observation of historians,” says Volney, “that the front of the portico has twelve pillars like that at Balbec; but what artists will esteem still more curious is that these two fronts resemble the gallery of the house built by Perrault, long before the existence of the drawing which made us acquainted with them. The only difference is, that the columns of the Louvre are double, whereas those of Palmyra are detached.”
About one hundred paces from the middle obelisk, straight forward, is a magnificent entry to a piazza, which is forty feet broad and more than half a mile in length, inclosed with two rows of marble pillars, twenty-six feet high, and eight or nine feet in compass. Of these there still remain one hundred and twenty-nine; and, by a moderate computation, there could not, originally, have been less than five hundred and sixty. The upper end of the piazza was shut in by a row of pillars, standing somewhat closer than those on each side.
A little to the left are the ruins of a stately building, which appears to have been a banqueting-house. It is built of better marble, and is finished with greater elegance, than the piazza. The pillars which supported it were one entire stone, which is so strong that one of them, which has fallen down, has received no injury. It measures twenty-two feet in length, and in compass eight feet nine inches.
In the west side of the piazza are several apertures for gates, into the court of the palace. Each of these is adorned with four porphyry pillars; not standing in a line with those of the wall, but placed by couples in the front of the gate facing the palace, on each side. Two of these only remain, and but one standing in its place. These are thirty feet long, and nine in circumference.
“We sometimes find a palace,” says Volney, “of which nothing remains but the courts and walls; sometimes a temple, whose peristyle is half thrown down; and now a portico, a gallery, or a triumphant arch. Here stand groups of columns, whose symmetry is destroyed by the fall of many of them; these we see ranged in rows of such length, that, similar to rows of trees, they deceive the sight, and assume the appearance of continued walls. On which side soever we look, the earth is strewed with vast stones, half buried, with broken entablatures, damaged capitals, mutilated friezes, disfigured reliefs, effaced sculptures, violated tombs, and altars defiled with mud.”
“In their ruined courts,” says another traveller, “and amid the crumbling walls of their cottages, may be seen, here and there, portions of the ancient pavement of the area; while all around the inclosure extend groups of columns, with pedestals for statues, and walls ornamented with handsome architectural decorations, the ruins of the majestic portico and double colonnade, which once inclosed the whole of the vast area. Portions of a frieze, or the fragments of a cornice, upon whose decoration was expended the labour of years, are now used by the poor villagers to bake their bread upon, or are hollowed out as hand-mills, in which to grind their corn.”
Among the walls and rubbish are a vast number of lizards and serpents; and that circumstance led to the celebrated poetic picture painted by Darwin.
Lo! where Palmyra, ‘mid her wasted plains,
Her shattered aqueducts, and prostrate fanes,
As the bright orb of breezy midnight pours
Long threads of silver through her gaping towers,
O’er mouldering tombs, and tottering columns gleams,
And frosts her deserts with diffusive beams,
Sad o’er the mighty wreck in silence bends,
Lifts her wet eyes, her tremulous hands extends.
If from lone cliffs a bursting rill expands
Its transient course, and sinks into the sands;
O’er the moist rock the fell hyena prowls,
The serpent hisses, and the panther growls;
On quivering wings the famished vulture screams,
Dips his dry beak, and sweeps the gushing streams.
With foaming jaws beneath, and sanguine tongue,
Laps the lean wolf, and pants, and runs along;
Stern stalks the lion, on the rustling brinks
Hears the dread snake, and trembles as he drinks.
Quick darts the scaly monster o’er the plain,
Fold after fold his undulating train;
And, bending o’er the lake his crested brow,
Starts at the crocodile that gapes below. – Darwin.
On the eastern side of the area of the Temple of the Sun, there is a curious doorway of one solid block of stone, which commands a fine view of the desert. “As we looked out of this narrow gateway,” says Mr. Addison, “we fancied, that Zenobia herself might have often stood at the same spot, anxiously surveying the operations of Aurelian and his blockading army. From hence the eye wanders over the level waste, across which the unfortunate queen fled on her swift dromedary to the Euphrates; and here, the morning after her departure, doubtless congregated her anxious friends, to see if she was pursued in her flight; and from hence she was probably first descried, being brought back a captive and a prisoner in the hands of the Roman horsemen.”
On the east side of the Piazza, stands a great number of marble pillars: some perfect, but the greater part mutilated. In one place eleven are ranged together in a square; the space, which they inclose, is paved with broad flat stones; but there are no remains of a roof.
At a little distance are the remains of a small temple, which is also without a roof; and the walls are much defaced; but from the door is enjoyed the magnificent coup-d’œil of all the ruins, and of the vast desert beyond. Before the entry, which looks to the south, is a piazza, supported by six pillars, two on each side of the door, and one at each end. The pedestals of those in front have been filled with inscriptions in the Greek and Palmyrene languages, which are become totally illegible.
Among these ruins there are many Sepulchres. They are ranged on each side of a hollow way, towards the north part of the city, and extend more than a mile. They are all square towers, four or five stories high. But though they are alike in form, they differ greatly in magnificence. The outside is of common stone; but the floors and partitions of each story are marble. There is a walk across the whole building, just in the middle; and the space on each hand is subdivided into six partitions by thick walls. The space between the partitions is wide enough to receive the largest corpse; and in these niches there are six or seven piled one upon another.
“As great a curiosity as any,” says Mr. Halifax, “were these sepulchres, being square towers four or five stories high, and standing on both sides of a hollow way, towards the north part of the city. They stretched out in length the space of a mile, and perhaps formerly might extend a great way further. At our first view of them, some thought them the steeples of ruined churches, and were in hopes we should have found some steps of churches here; others took them to have been bastions, and part of the old fortifications, though there is not so much as any foundation of a wall to be seen. But when we came, a day or two after, more curiously to inquire into them, we quickly found their use. They were all of the same form, but of different splendour and greatness, according to the circumstances of their founders. The first we viewed was entirely marble, but is now wholly in ruins; and we found nothing but a heap of stones, amongst which we found two statues; one of a man; another of a woman, cut in sitting, or rather leaning, posture, and the heads and part of the arms being broken off; but their bodies remaining pretty entire; so that we had the advantage of seeing their habits, which appeared very noble; but more approaching the European fashion, than what is now in use in the East, which inclined me to think they might be Roman. Upon broken pieces of stone, tumbled here and there, we found some broken inscriptions, but, not affording any perfect sense, they are not worth the transcribing.”
These are the most interesting of all the ruins. As you wind up a narrow valley between the mountain range, you have them on your right and left, topping the hills, or descending to the border of the valley: some presenting heaps of rubbish, and some half fallen, expose their shattered chambers, and one or two still exist in almost an entire state of preservation. They are seen from a great distance, and have a striking effect in this desert solitude.
The ruins of Palmyra and Balbec are very different. “No comparison can be instituted between them,” says Mr. Addison. “The ruins of Balbec consist merely of two magnificent temples, inclosed in a sort of citadel; while here, over an immense area, we wander through the ruins of long porticoes leading up to ruined temples and unknown buildings. Now we see a circular colonnade sweeping round with its ruined gateway, at either end; now we come to the prostrate walls, or ruined chambers of a temple or palace; anon we explore the recesses of a bath, or the ruins of an aqueduct; then we mount the solitary staircase, and wander through the silent chambers of the tombs, ornamented with busts, inscriptions, and niches for the coffins, stored with mouldering bones; and from the summits of funereal towers, five stories in height, we look down upon this mysterious assemblage of past magnificence; and beyond them, upon the vast level surface of the desert, silent and solitary; stretching away like the vast ocean, till it is lost in the distance, far as the eye can reach. The dwelling of man is not visible. The vastness and immensity of space strikes us with awe, and the mouldering monuments of human pride, that extend around, teach us a sad lesson of the instability of all human greatness.”
Though antiquity has left nothing either in Greece or Italy, in any way to be compared with the magnificence of the ruins of Palmyra, Mr. Wood observes, that there is a greater sameness in the architecture of Palmyra than at Rome, Athens, and other great cities, whose ruins evidently point out different ages of decay. But, except four half-columns in the Temple of the Sun, and two in one of the mausoleums, the whole architecture is Corinthian, richly ornamented with some very striking beauties and some as visible faults.
Through the valley of the tombs may be traced remnants of a ruined aqueduct, which formerly conducted water to the town from, at present, an unknown source; it consists of a vaulted passage running underground, covered with a fine hard stucco. In regard to the present supply, there are two rivers, the waters of which, when judiciously distributed, must have conduced greatly to the subsistence and comfort of the ancient inhabitants; but these are now allowed to lose themselves in the sand.
Mr. Wood says that all the inscriptions he saw were in Greek or Palmyrene, except one, which was in Latin. Many attempts have been made to explain the Palmyrene inscriptions. They were generally supposed to be Syriac. Gruter, having seen an inscription at Rome, gave it as his opinion that the characters were Arabic. Scaliger, speaking of the same inscription, gave the subject up in despair. Some have thought they were Greek, translated from the Palmyrene. Upon this hint M. Barthelemy examined the inscriptions copied into Mr. Wood’s work, and came to the conclusion, that Syriac was the living language of the inhabitants of Palmyra, at the time those monuments were erected; and that the greatest part, if not all the characters, are the same as those made use of in writing Hebrew at this day, although they have a different appearance.
We shall now give a few specimens: – “This splendid and durable monument, Jamblichus, the son of Mocimus, the son of Acaleises, the son of Malichus, erected for himself, his children, and his posterity, in the month of April, year 314.”
There is another to the same purport, erected in the same month, one hundred years after: – “This monument, Elabælus Manæus Cocchæus Malachus, the son of Waballathus, the son of Manæus, the son of Elabælus, built for himself and family in the month of April, year 414.”
Another inscription implies that “Septimius Odenathus, the most excellent senator, had erected this monument for himself and his posterity, to preserve their name for ever.”
Another contains an epitaph erected by Soræchus, to his wife Martha, in the reign of Marcus Antoninus, A. D. 178.
A third is of the same nature; appropriated by Malchus, to himself and his children, though built by his ancestors.
Besides sepulchral monuments there are others, erected by order of the senate and people of the commonwealth of Tadmor, to the honour of those citizens who had deserved well of the republic. Among these is one in honour of Alilamenes; another in honour of Julius Aurelius Zenobius; another in honour of Jarisbolus; and others in honour of Septimius Orodes. The last of these was a great benefactor to the public and private institutions of Palmyra. He had been an officer in his younger days, and had greatly distinguished himself under his prince, Odenathus, against the Parthians; during the year in which this monument was erected, he exercised the office of symposiarch, in the festival dedicated to their Patron God, Jupiter Belus. That in honour of Alilamenes runs thus: – “The senate and the people have placed this in honour of Alilamenes, the son of Panas, the son of Mocimus, the son of Æranes, devoted lovers of their country, and in every respect deserving well of their country, and of the immortal Gods, in the year 450, and the 30th day of the month of April.”
There are, also, monuments erected by private persons to the memory of their friends. The finest of these contains the grateful remembrance which the Palmyrene merchants, trading to Vologesias71, retained of the great services which Julius Zobeidas did them in that expedition.
Another inscription commemorates the virtues of a person named Malenthon, secretary to the republic of Palmyra, when “the God Hadrian” arrived in the city (A. D. 122). He is remembered for having contributed to the adornment of the temple of Belus, and for having given a largess to the public baths, of oil for the use, not only of the citizens, but of strangers.
The monument erected to Jamblichus seems to be the oldest, and the work of Domitian the latest; taking in about three hundred years between them. The other rich and extensive buildings were, Mr. Wood supposes, erected before the last of these dates, and probably after the first; perhaps about the time Elabælus built his monument.
It is rather remarkable, that there is no monument in memory of, nor any inscription in honour of Zenobia; for which Dr. Halley accounts on the supposition, that the Romans were so much irritated and ashamed, that they destroyed and defaced everything that might be erected in honour of her.
The decay of Palmyra has been accounted for from its peculiar situation. A country without land, if the expression may be allowed, could only exist by commerce: their industry had no other channel to operate in; and when loss of their liberty was followed by that of trade, they were reduced to live idly on as much of their capital as had been spared by Aurelian. When that was spent, necessity compelled them to desert the town.
Time has partially preserved the peristyles, the intercolumniations, and entablatures; the elegance of the designs of which equal throughout the richness of the materials. These being, in many respects, the greatest and most entire, is attributed to there having been, for so long a time, few inhabitants to deface them, to a dry climate, and their distance from any city which might apply the materials to other uses. These ruins present a sad contrast with the hovels of the wild Arabs, now the only inhabitants of a city which, in former times, emulated Rome. “Of all the contrasts of past magnificence with present meanness,” says Mr. Addison, “of the wealth and genius of by-gone times with the poverty and ignorance of the present day, no more striking instance, perhaps, can be found than is presented in the present poor Arab village of Tadmor. You there see a few poverty-stricken inhabitants living in square hovels of mud mixed with chopped straw, roofed with earth, leaves, and dry sticks, congregated round the magnificent Temple of the Sun of yore; despoiled of its ornaments by one of the haughtiest and most powerful of the Roman emperors, who came with his victorious troops from the distant provinces of Gaul and of Britain, to rend asunder the dominion of which this spot, in the midst of desert solitudes, had rendered itself the head.” Mr. Addison then goes on to state that the “village of Tadmor consists, altogether, of about a dozen or fifteen families, and there can be hardly more than twenty able-bodied males in the whole place. This little community possesses a few herds of goats and dromedaries, which, together with the poultry, form the chief wealth of the villagers. These poor people are not, however, sufficiently advanced in the desert to be without the reach of the Syrian government; they all pay a capitation tax to Ibrahim Pasha. The portion of cultivated land on this spot is very small; there are merely a few scanty gardens, which produce roots, vegetables, and a miserable supply of corn. There are one or two palm-trees along the banks of the stream, and a few shrubs of the thorny acacia.”