Travel web site: Damascus and Lebanon

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Lebanon and Damascus! How far back such names seem to carry us in the history of the world! Millenniums ago Damascus had its attractions for the Oriental, and today there is no city in the East that so charms Arab and Turk. The Bedouin from the sandy stretches of Arabia and arid Syria had given it an appropriate name in "The Pearl of the Desert"; for, with its thousands of white houses, mosques, and towers, encircled with miles of orchards and gardens, each vying with the other in foliage, the city indeed had a very charming appearance.
Damascus dates back to the time when the Pharaohs ruled in Egypt, and is one of the few cities of the Orient that has had a continuous history and existence.
This city, which is second in importance in the Turkish Empire, may now be reached by three different railroads, thus making it a very attractive resort for the trader from all parts of the East, whereas a few years ago it was difficult of access. Its population is estimated at about some two hundred thousand souls, not including the garrison of many thousand soldiers. Despite the mixture of nationalities and creeds, the temper and endurance of the inhabitants is remarkable, for one never reads or hears of riots or impending trouble in Damascus.
The main and most used road to Damascus is the railway from Beirut, the principal port of Syria. This line is a narrow gauge rack-and pinion system, crossing the mountains of Lebanon at a height of 4,880 feet above sea-level. Few have any idea that hidden away among the mountains are sights and scenes to excite the admiration of even the most disinterested; but in order to see them, the comfort of the train had to be left and a number of miles covered in the saddle.
The railroad, built by the French, at times runs through some very fine scenery, and the entire journey of 90 miles is a constant panorama of mountain, forest, or plain.
At different points scattered in the mountains are to be found groups of cedar trees which until recent years suffered so severely at the hands of the natives that they were fast disappearing; but lately the government has placed guards at the various groups to prevent any more devastation. The largest group of these ancient and interesting tree is to be found at Besherry. Here on an elevation are about 400 trees, the highest of which does not exceed 80 feet, while some are from 30 to 40 feet in circumference. By reason of heavy snows these trees can only be reached during the months of summer, when crowds of natives make merry under the pleasant shade afforded by the spreading branches of these monarchs of the mountains.
The district of the Lebanon also carries the palm for having in its borders the largest stones ever quarried in the known history of man, for high up in the walls of an old castle in the ruins at Baalbek may be seen stones that are nearly 65 feet long and 15 feet square, while in an old quarry a mile away is a solid block of stone that measures 72 feet long and is 17 feet 2 inches square, the probable weight being considerably more than a thousand tons.
To what period these stones belong, or what race of giants hewed such massive blocks, or by what means they were moved from place to place and hoisted into position we have yet to learn, for from the absence of inscriptions the handlers of these almost immovable loads seem to have been content to pass off the stage of history unknown.
Were a visit made to the homes of these mountain people, there would be much of interest, for the raising of the silk worm and the subsequent silk harvest gives occupation to the majority of the men and women in the many villages. One thing is worthy of note, viz., all the eggs for the silk worms are brought yearly from France by men who are sent especially for the purpose. For some reason the eggs that are produced the previous season do not mature in the mountains; hence the necessity for importing from Europe.
In every home throughout the mountains may be seen women and girls compelling an already too satisfied sheep to swallow a little more of the green food that has been gathered off the hillsides or purchased from some near-by garden or mulberry plantation.
This pet lamb, subject to frequent bathings, is being fatted to provide savory dishes through the long and severe winter that faces the native. During the month of November the fatted sheep is killed and cut up into mincemeat and melted in its own fat, to be used as a relish and sauce with the boiled rice or wheat that forms the staple dish of these hardy people.
Should occasion require, the fatted sheep may be killed to provide a feast for some unusual event, and in this custom there may be a perpetuation of the “fatted calf” of the Gospel. Hours are spent by the women and girls coaxing food down the throats of these overfed sheep, and toward the close of their existence they are so fat that they are unable to stand.
In some parts of the Lebanon the earth lends itself to the art of making pottery, and thousands of the natives get a livelihood by the manufacture of all kinds of earthenware vessels. Hidden away in the corner of his one-room house, the potter turns his wheel just as did the one to whom the ancient seer was commanded to go in the adjoining country of Palestine. From this primitive machinery comes many a vessel that for shape and form would do credit to the most skilled workman of the Occident. From the wheel the pottery is taken to be dried in the sun, then handled by the women, who do their best at decoration by painting all kinds of designs on the jars ere they are consigned to the furnace to be baked.
After the baking they are sold to traders, who transport them on muleback to all parts of the country, both east and west of the Jordan, to be sold or bartered for what we would think a ridiculously low price, but what enables many a man from the proceeds to retire and leave his sons to turn the wheel.
Unfortunately emigration to the United States has drawn away the flower of  the Lebanon, and the pottery industry is in of becoming a thing of the past the sons of the land realize that there are fortunes in the clay of the mountains of their native land as well as the factories of America.
But the Lebanon contains natural beauties and wonders that equal if not surpass those of other lands. There is a remarkable natural bridge that has a span of 125 feet with a river 75 feet beneath it. This bridge has been formed by the running of the waters of centuries from the melting snows on Jebel Sennin, which rears its head 8,000 feet above sea-level and is “monarch of all it surveys” in the Lebanon. Over the bridge is a constant stream of traffic, for it is one of the main roads through the mountains. The native ahs no eye for its wonder, and the traveler from the West rarely crosses it.
Another charm of the Lebanon is the abundance of cold, clear spring water. One is led to wonder why the Creator has been so lavish with the life-giving fluid in the Lebanon, while lands near by languish for want of it. Everywhere cascades, streams, springs, and waterfalls abound, sometimes to such an extent as to cause serious alarm and danger to the native and his property, but the finest fall of water in the mountains is to be seen at Afka, far away in the east, and requiring a long ride in order to reach it.
Out from a huge cavern high up in the cliffs rushes a strong flow of water, which comes tumbling down over the rocks into the valley below, in its course forming one of the finest waterfalls to be seen in all the Orient. Ina land where water is so precious, it is no wonder that crowds of people resort there for many weeks during the long, hot months of summer. It may be interesting to those versed in mythology to know that this fall and spring are connected with the myth of Venus and Adonis, and on a spot not far away are the remains of a temple to Venus which was destroyed by the emperor Constantine because of the indecencies practiced there.
But we must not tarry longer over the charms of the Lebanon, but hasten to the city that lies under the shadow of its hills.
Damascus, as already stated, is the capital of Syria, and is the rendezvous of peoples from all parts of the Mohammedan world. It is one of the sacred cities of the followers of him who, having seen the city from the back of his fiery steed, requested that “as he had to enter paradise but once, it might not be in this life, but after he had passed out of it into the future state”.
One cannot be long on the streets of Damascus without being interested in the motley crowd of humanity that swarm its streets, and, in spite of creed and nationality, manage to keep sweet-tempered.
The spick-and-span Turkish officer fresh from Constantinople rubs against the swarthy, sunburnt son of the desert without even a word of scorn or anger; the Mohammedan shoulders the Jew as if they were brothers in the faith; the spotless visitor from the Occident jostles the not-any-too-clean peasant from the surrounding villages, while Persians, Moors, Afghans, Indians, Egyptians, Sudanese, and others from many parts of the globe hurry along, all intent on something of importance that has brought them to this metropolis of the Orient.
If you turn aside into the spacious bazaars you are compelled to stop and watch the many kinds of trades that give occupation to all classes of the Damascenes. Be it said to the credit of the city that very few idle people are seen in the streets, and the absence of beggars is noticeable, for work is no disgrace in Damascus, and the boys of the city form no insignificant part of the machinery that is responsible for the enormous amount of merchandise produced and exported from the town.
The different streets may be found together the shoe-makers, iron-workers, saddlers, carpenters, bakers, confectioners, drapers, silk merchants, grocers, stone masons, gold and silver smiths, druggists, and many others, all engaged in their different callings, and those of a mechanical turn of mind are invited to watch the worker at his calling without being badgered to buy his wares- a curse in almost every other Oriental city.
On the streets are to be seen venders of almost everything under the sun, especially in the way of eatables, and to those who are familiar with the value of the goods offered for sale, the words of the native visitor are plain when he informs you that “in Damascus you can sup or breakfast for nothing,” because of the little cost of food.

On the same street, within a few yards of each other, may be seen the vender of cucumbers with his wares fresh from the garden, exposed on a donkey’s back (when sold the load will realize between 20 and 30 cents); the bread-seller with his warm cakes of bread on a tray resting on a stand ready to supply the hungry with a good-sized loaf for a cent, and the vender of milk, who for another cent will give you a large basin of sweetened milk in which to soak your loaf. At different seasons you may fare well at little cost of melons,

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