veller pick up a stone, and examine it carefully, he will be sure to have at his heels a host of malapert little boys deriding him, though keeping at a very respectful distance, in deference to his magical powers. Should he, indeed, turn round suddenly, and pursue them a few steps, they fly in an agony of fear, the very veins in their naked little legs almost bursting; and they never stop to look back till they have got well amongst the crowd again, where, panting for breath, they recount to their auditors the dreadful look that devil of a Frank gave them, making fire come out of his eyes, and adders out of his mouth." There are places in Syria where Europeans are subject to far more serious annoyances than these. At Latachia, for instance, although it is a place of considerable intercourse with Europe, in the way both of trade and travellers, the Turkish inhabitants are furious fanatics, and have several times assembled in mobs, and attacked and maltreated European and native Christians, compelling them to seek safety in flight. Not more than three years ago, the Roman Catholic inhabitants were besieged within the walls of the Latin monastery, whilst hearing mass in its chapel, by a mob of bigoted Turks, who were escorting a renegade Christian to the mosque. At this fellow's instigation a plan was formed to storm the convent, and put to death all its inmates. The gates were not strong enough long to resist the desperate assault made upon them; so the congregation, by means of a ladder, got through a window of the adjacent French Consulate, and through a garden to the sea-side, where they took boat for the little island of Ruad, the usual refuge of the Latachia Christians when thus molested. Satisfaction was demanded and obtained by a French man-of-war, and the ringleaders of the riot were bastinadoed and sent into exile, which checked for a while the violence of the Turks; but they are still very insolent to Christians, and Mr Neale declares he should never feel altogether secure at Latachia, "so long as many of the Ayans and Effendis are permitted to carry on their intrigues and machinations with impunity." But for this drawback, Latachia would be one of the most desirable residences in Syria. "The environs are extremely beautiful, and abound with delicious apricot and peach trees. Mulberry plantations and vineyards are also very plentiful; and the melon and watermelon here attain great perfection. The dark-leaved pomegranate, with its deep vermilion blossoms, intertwines with its fairer neighbour, the orangetree, and behind them rises the stately poplar, over which peeps the more stately minaret, making altogether a charming picture." Minarets abound. This little town, of about five thousand inhabitants, " contains upwards of a dozen mosques, each endeavouring to surpass the other in the beauty of its architecture and the quaint elegance of its cupolas and minarets. The other public buildings are also fine structures, and the gardens teem with rich-scented flowers and shrubs." Water is very scarce, and to get it pure the Latachians are compelled to send daily to a distance of six miles. The climate is excellent, and fever, so general in Syria, would there scarcely be known, but for the uncleanly ways of the people. The streets are the receptacle for skins of fruit, decayed vegetables, dead cats, rats, and dogs. The atmosphere thus generated may be imagined. In vain has the quarantine doctor endeavoured to work a reform by urgent representations to the governor of the town. "Peki," (very good,) says that dignitary, touching the side of his turban with his hand; but that is the whole extent of his co-operation. The doctor is approved of, his wishes are acceded to, but the streets remain foul. Turkish activity seldom gets beyond peki. Once, however, some men really were set to play the scavenger. They swept all the offal into heaps at the street-crossings; and having thus stirred up the filth, and concentrated the nuisance, considered their duty done, and retired, proud of their exertions. The tobacco commonly known in Europe as Latachia, is shipped at that port, but grown at or around the pretty little town of Gibili, a short distance to the south. The Gibili tobacco, and the Aboo Reah, or father of essences, are renowned all over the East, and esteemed the finest and most aromatic tobaccoes in the world. The fields in which they are grown are manured with goats' dung, and more or less watered ac cording to the strength of tobacco required. The less the water, the stronger the flavour of the weed. When gathered, the leaves are exposed for three nights to the dew, then strung together, hung up to dry, packed in bales and sent in feluccas to Latachia, where they are stored in dry warehouses until exported. The port of Latachia, which retains the town's ancient name of Laodicea, was once of great capacity, and could contain, it is said, six hundred vessels; but time and earthquakes, warfare and neglect, have played havoc with it. Rocks and ruins have rolled into the basin; and although its surface is still spacious, its depths are treacherous; and it is not deemed safe and convenient for more than thirty vessels, averaging two hundred and fifty to three hundred tons each. The commercial importance of the town would be likely to increase considerably, were the road from Aleppo less steep and dangerous for camels, whose drivers consequently demand exorbitant rates for the carriage of goods to Latachia, and take them on much easier terms to the more northerly port of Scanderoon or Alexandretta, through which passes the whole commerce of northern Syria. Independently of the better road, Scanderoon is nearer than Latachia to Aleppo, and is its natural port; otherwise its abominable climate would alone suffice to make commercial residents prefer its rival. "The first thing that strikes a stranger on arriving at Alexandretta is the complexion of the inhabitants, natives as well as Europeans. They have a strange unearthly yellow tinge, with deep sunken eyes and a shrivelled frame, facts which speak more than volumes for the pernicious effects of marsh miasma. Fever and ague have set their seal on every face; and with so indelible a mark, that a Scanderoon is easily distinguished in any other city, and immediately pointed out." The wretched aspect of these "churchyard deserters," as an English merchant captain called them, is traceable to the most brutal Turkish folly and obstinacy. Alexandretta is encircled for miles with pestilential marshes. On approaching the port from Aleppo, an ancient Roman road, infamously out of repair, brought Mr Neale and his guide to 66 a very rickety old bridge, spanning a canal, filled from a small but restless spring, whose waters, (which never cease trickling,) finding no adequate outlet, have created those baneful marshes which surround the town, extending over nearly the whole plain. The canal was originally cut by Ibrahim Pasha, at the instigation of an intelligent Italian, who acted as consul for several European states, Mr Martinelli, and it still retains his name." So long as the Egyptian viceroy was paramount in Syria, this canal was kept in good order, and duly cleansed of mud and weeds by an English machine. Then came the evacuation of Syria. Before marchiug away, the Egyptian soldiery destroyed the machine. The canal, which had already in great measure drained the marshes, and had proved a blessing to the feverridden population, was neglected by the Turks, is now choked up, and will soon altogether disappear. The merchants of Aleppo and the European consuls have done all in their power to get the Turkish government to resume the work of drainage. "Some soi-disant engineers were sent to form an estimate of what the cost would be these employés, the bane of Turkey as far as useful works are concerned, estimated what ought to be their gains, and the sum frightened the authorities, who, as they always do upon like occasions, religiously concealed the estimate under the divan cushions, and there the matter rested." In 1844, the European residents in Scanderoon got up a subscription amongst themselves, and actually began to drain. What did the Turkish authorities? Threatened the labourers with the bastinado, which effectually stopped the good work. The motive assigned was that "the Franks, when the work was completed, would probably lay claim to the recovered land!" Thus are matters managed in Syria, and thus are replenished the graveyards of Scanderoon. The self-same Turks, whose parsimony and paltry jealousy prohibit the sanitary measure greatly needed, are martyrs to fever and ague, whilst the poor peasants, thanks to unwholesome diet, damp SO 464 Levantine Rambles. lodgings, and the ridiculously long and rigid fasts prescribed by the Greek church, are subject, in addition to those two maladies, to dropsy and various other diseases. The unwillingness of the local authorities to aid or even to sanction any amelioration of the wretched state of Scanderoon, arises partly from the blundering arrangement by which that port and Aleppo are in different Pashaliks. As the custom-dues are paid at Aleppo, the Pasha of Adana, under whose sway is Scanderoon, takes little interest in the welfare of a port from which he derives no revenue, great though its trade is. "The whole male population of Alexandretta are occupied in landing, weighing, and rolling to the warehouses the cargoes of Manchester bales brought by the different vessels. It is impossible to imagine a scene more bustling and discordant." Clamorous muleteers and camel drivers load and unload their beasts, custom-house officers and factors continually dispute, masters of merchantmen are anxious to land their goods, or eager to settle and depart; "cadaverous Italian skippers, who have been three months on the berth' for Leghorn, and have as yet about as many bales of wool on board, make frantic inquiries about their Syrian consignee's intentions, and being pacified with stout promises, return on board, and catch fish for the crew till dinner-time." All are busy, and all foreigners long to get away from a place where, if they stop but a day too long, they may remain for ever, tenants of a grave in its marshy and feverish soil. The loading of the camels is an especially ticklish matter, and leads to much wrath amongst the drivers. "Two bales must be found of equal weight; these are not always to be secured, and the struggle that ensues amongst the cameliers for such a couple defies description." Turkoman camel, a much finer animal than the Syrian, will carry, equally poised, two bales weighing together half a ton. "I have seen at times as many as one thousand camels leave Alexandretta for Aleppo in one day, bearing high aloft upon their backs two thousand Manchester The iron-bound bales of twist and manu[Oct. factures." heart of Cobden, and to reconcile A sight to rejoice the the bombardments and skirmishings even that peace-loving agitator to by which so important a débouché was his affections. It might interest him secured for the produce of the city of when a loaf of bread costs twopence to calculate at what rate per quarter, 212,) Syrian wheat might be deat Alexandretta, (Neale's Syria, ii. livered in Liverpool by way of returns for the camel-borne Manchester cottons. If it is easy to die at Scanderoon, it is certainly cheap to live there. Mutton costs twopence the pound, fresh butter less than a penny, portionably low prices. So says Mr and other articles of food are at proF. A. Neale, who must be held excellent authority, since he was long resident at Scanderoon, where he was passed his time swallowing quinine, never entirely free from ague, but and thought himself the happiest of of uninterrupted health. mortals when he enjoyed three weeks ought to be issued to the public unNo book of the class of Mr Neale's accompanied by a map. would suffice, and it need comprise A small one coast, the definition of boundaries, little more than the outline of the the course of large rivers and mounlages referred to in the text. Such tain ranges, and those towns and viladd greatly to the interest and value means of reference and elucidation of a narrative of travel and description of a country. Only a minority always at hand, or to possess such of readers are likely to have an atlas great familiarity with geographical details as may render one unnecesbooks of travels are prone to expend sary. Authors and publishers of upon lithographed landscapes and other embellishments-things glanced at for a moment, and regarded no more-money which might be laid out to the greater advantage of their engraving of maps. readers and of themselves in the We cannot rule, even in favour of the two pretty make an exception to this general sketches of Gaza and Nargheslik, Neale's agreeable volumes. which face the title-pages of Mr COME, love, and seat you here awhile, Though each may now seem slow, They may speak of me to you. Even if neither rare nor strange Speak of pleasures she has known, Or hopes that cannot change. Ever, as I gaze around Our little chamber's hallowed ground, Speaks aloud of Home to me, Here, and there beyond the Sea, In the long dawn of vernal day And wandered to the woods alone. The Bee hummed in the Eglantine, And the breeze swayed the curls of the young Woodbine; The May scented the hedges along, The Lark was above like a star of song; Over the style, across the meadow, Where the swift streams whispering flow, Balk him of happy contemplation. Look down-the long straight Pike has past, Like Death's keen arrow, flying fast, Where Dace and Minnows, silver-coated fools, Are playing on the surface of the Pools. Look up the thin-winged Dragon-fly Look up-the Oak-tree stirs, and in it Flecked with many fleecy wreaths Look round-the Primrose peeps at you The Periwinkle, bathed in dew, Is like a maiden's eye of blue Turned to the Moon from under alien eaves. The sword-grass, and the mimic rye, The clover, and the lucerne sweet, And the chamomiles, that die, (Such as all around are making Swells the universal tone That Summer sings-a music of her own. False season! she has brought the shower! Away to yonder trellised bower Of clematis and vine; The skies may weep ten times an hour, As oft they'll smile and shine. Here sit secure; or, sweeter still, Where the clattering cog-wheels ply, The big drops hang upon the eaves, The images that Memory yields Of ruined Abbeys, lone in fields With purple hills behind. Of Churchyards, with their tombs and yews, Seen in a night of June, What time the fertilising dews Are falling in the Moon. The little Church, five hundred years |