March 31 Kala'at Sim'an. Dearest Mother. Aleppo [Halab] is a town where it always rains - at least that is my 2 days' impression of it. It has been a great great Arab town; as you drive through the narrow streets you pass gateways and minarets of the finest period of Arab building and the castle is the most splendid bit of Arab work I have yet seen, 12th century with iron doorways of the period (they are dated) and most beautiful decoration. But the whole town has fallen on evil days: it has been left stranded between 2 rival railways and I very much doubt whether either will ever reach it; its trade is stagnant what with bad roads and worse government and I see no future for it but ruin. It has a very wonderful position; it lies in a saucer of which the huge castle hill is the cup. You see the minaret of the castle mosque several hours away, but the town is invisible almost till you enter it. An endless barren world stetches round, uninterrupted by hill or tree - you can see the Euphrates from the castle in clear weather; you might see Baghdad for anything there is between. I heard much talk of the Baghdad railway and from what I hear the Germans are in bad case. They can't wring their kilometric guarantee out of the government for the reason that the govt. is absolutely without any money at all, they have done in 3 years about 1/50 part of the work which they have promised to complete in 10 and they are now penniless at the most difficult and expensive part of the road. In Aleppo they say that the Germans unaided will never be able to carry the thing through and if they fail I think it will be a great blow to the kudos in the East. But we shall see when we get to Konia [Konya (Iconium)]. Meantime everyone asks anxiously whether English money will be forthcoming and I said No. I called on the governor who received me in his harim, of which I was glad for his wife is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Both he and she are Circassians. He is a man of about 40 and I judge him to be a farceur. He began by announcing that he was extremely Anglophile and proceeded to ask me what we were doing in Arabia. I said cheerfully that there were only 2 places of any importance to us in Arabia. "Mecca [Makkah] and Medina [Al Madinah]" said he quickly. "No" said I "Aden [('Adan)] and Kowweit [Al Kuwayt (Kuwait)] and we have got them both." He returned my call in the afternoon and staying talking for over an hour, mostly about the new road he intends to build to Alexandretta [Iskenderun (Alexandria ad Issum)]. Not that any road, even to the sea, will benefit Aleppo much as long as the government commandeers the baggage camels, after its present manner. At this moment there is a congestion of 2 months' bales of goods in the bazaars which cannot be transported to the coast for want of beasts of burden. My nicest acquaintance was the Greek Catholic Archbishop, a most charming man, a Damascene educated in Paris, extremely enlightened and agreeable. We paid each other long visits and had a very interesting talk about the foundations of belief - without, I need scarcely say, reaching them. But I loved him. The consul and his wife were kind but not particularly interesting - I dined with them one night and heard all about the Russian annihilation. What a tale! I also made friends with a young exiled Pasha who has an English wife - Heaven knows where she comes from but she was rather a nice little woman. It was this Pasha who took me over the citadel. And finally I spent an amusing evening with a rich Christian native family and talked the most fluent Arabic till a quarter to 11 by the clock! All my leisure moments were occupied in changing my muleteers, getting new ones and saying goodbye (with much regret) to the old. It was a necessary step for I could not take Syrians talking nothing but Arabic into Asia Minor. I have got 3 bilingual natives of Aleppo and so far I like them very much. Yesterday morning, what with new muleteers and what with the numbers of people who came to bid me farewell I did not get off till 10 o'clock. It was a blazing hot day; we meant to have made a short march but the Fates willed otherwise. We rode through bare shadeless country and when we got into the low rocky hills the mules went one way and I and my soldier went another. We reached the place where I had intended to camp at about 4 in the afternoon. There were a few ruined walls there and the tents of some Kurdish shepherds. We waited an hour and the mules did not turn up. Then the Kurds announced that it was dinner time and invited us to come and eat. I was very hungry and not at all sorry to share their cracked oats and meat and sour milk. At 6 o'clock there came in a little boy who stated that he had seen my mules an hour before and that they had gone on to Kala'at Sim'an, a good hour and a quarter away. So I said goodbye to my delightful hosts, who were much concerned at my case, and by dint of riding as hard as we could over the rocky ground we got in just before it became black dark - I had a keen recollection of El Barah and was determined not to spend another night hunting for my tents. To our great joy as we got in we heard the mules Bells: the others had arrived just before us. We rode through the huge silent church and found them pitching the tents by the light of 2 candles. And now I must tell you where I am. This is the place where St Simon lived upon a pillar and after his death the faithful sent money from all parts of the world and built a most splendid church all round the pillar, this shape: [plan of church and monastery.] To the SE they made a great monastery and between the monastery and the church my tents are pitched. The South transept ends in a wonderful doorway and a narthex arched and columned and carved, and the eastern apse is the crowning glory of Syrian art. While the servants pitched my tents I went out and sat upon St Simon's column - there is still a little bit of it left - and considered how very different he must have been from me. And then came a big star and twinkled at me through the soft warm night, and we agreed together that it was pleasanter to wander across the heaven and the earth than to sit on top of a pillar all one's days. I spent the whole of this morning looking at the church and in the afternoon I rode out and saw some ruined towns near at hand. My guide was one Musa who is by creed a Yezidi, whom the Muslims call devil worshippers. But they are, I believe, a most harmless and well meaning sect and what they really worship is the sun, a very proper object of adoration. We talked about creeds as we went and I told Musa that the Ismailiyehs worship both the sun and the moon, but he could scarcely control his disgust at the thought of such idolatry. Do you think the world is much wiser today than it was when St Simon climbed onto his column?

Sun 2. [2 April 1905] Baràd. I am devoting 4 days to exploring and photographing the villages to the north of Kala'at Sim'an. No one comes here and even the Americans have not been, so it's worth while to spend a little time over them. Especially as they have proved extremely interesting with churches very perfectly preserved and beautiful funeral monuments. Yesterday I was interrupted in the middle of the day by streaming rain. It came on at noon and I was obliged to cut short my work and ride straight into my camp. I have replaced my lost coat with a Circassian felt cloak which envelops me and my horse in one black and universal embrace. When I put it on it is as though I were in a house and I fear no amount of rain. My guide and companion is Musa the Yezidi. He is an enchanting person, a Kurd by race, and most intelligent. He takes a keen interest in my search for inscriptions and bustles in and out of the tombs looking for them. You don't know how exciting it is when one comes on a dated tomb. The inscriptions are all in Greek and the kind Americans taught me how to read the dates. We use here the era of Antioch [Antakya (Hatay)] which begins at AD 49. The great find today was a tomb with carvings in it. I came upon it quite by chance and I believe no one yet has seen it. There were 4 persons with their arms held up in the customary early Xian attitude to represent prayer - these I photographed - and one very singular gentleman whom I had to draw - this is what he was like: [sketch.] You will please note his ears and his hat and the very curious object he holds in his right hand. He was very roughly carved in relief. The place where I am camped tonight is an enormous ruined town. I have pitched my tents by the finest tomb I have yet seen, a dome supported on 4 square piers, the whole resting on a high podium with panels on it. There was an inscription on one of the panels but it is alas! obliterated. I have had the most delightful day today playing at being an archaeologist. It's more amusing than words can say. I worked like a slave for 8 hours and got through 3 towns! Everyone is eager to be of use. This morning in the village where I camped, I was taken to see an inscription. A new house had been built in front of it the corner of which hid the end of the lintel on which the inscription was. I could just make out a small carving at the extreme point and my guide stated that it represented without doubt the lady Mary. This would have been a very curious addition to the meagre list of known sculptures here and I said that I regretted I could not see it better. My friend instantly fetched a pick axe and chipped off a large corner of his house - and the portrait of the Virgin proved to be a Roman eagle! Belloc was quite wrong about the Kurds. He is an exceedingly affable person. By the way, did Belloc recover? I hope so.

Mon 3 [3 April 1905] and a really horrible day. I don't think I have been so cold in all the course of my journey. I started at 7 and saw a village under the most unsatisfactory conditions, a heavy grey sky which made it impossible to photograph. At 11 I got to the second and lunched hoping that the wind would blow the clouds away. Far from it. I shall not forget the misery of copying a Syriac inscription in the driving rain, holding my cloak round my book to keep the paper dry. The devil take all Syriac inscriptions, they are so horribly difficult to copy. Fortunately they are rare, but I've had 2 today. Elsa will sympathise with my desperate attempts to take time exposures in a high wind - what was I to do when the sun would not shine? Heaven knows what they will be like - something like pictures of an earthquake I should think. By this time even my archaeological zeal had flickered out and I rode in to my tents at Bàsufàn, arriving at 2 o'clock chilled to the bone. But an hour later the sun came out at last and I started off with Musa an hour's walk across the stony hills to pick up another village which I had missed out on account of the cold. This completes the tale of these northern villages - I think I have explored them pretty thoroughly. Bàsufàn is Musa's home; his charming family have all been to call on me and brought me a present of kaimak. May Fate cause me to travel much among the Kurds; besides having the kindest of dispositions they have also the loveliest of faces. Men and women, I don't know where I have seen such beautiful people. They make admirable foregrounds to my pictures.

Tues 4. [4 April 1905] Musa appeared at dawn with a gift of excellent native bread which I had for breakfast. While the mules were loading I paid an official visit on Musa's father who set bread and cream before me and insisted on my eating so that the bond of hospitality might be between us. I had just breakfasted but fortunately in the life I lead one is always ready to eat, even after a hearty meal. The fact is that one's rations are short, a good deal shorter than they are in civilization, though one does not notice it. The good Musa insisted on setting us on the first 2 hours of our way - an incredibly rocky way it was - and he led my horse most of the time while I walked. We parted with much regret on both sides and I rode down into a fertile plain, deep in corn, set in a beautiful ring of stony hills. In the middle of it, at a large village called Dana, I lunched and explored some interesting tombs. The mules came up and I gave them directions for our camp tonight and supplied them with a guide. Then I set off with my soldier and my map towards the hills. At the entrance of the valley we came to a great Roman arch - a Roman road had passed through it into the plain, but of the road there were no traces. We turned up into the hills and presently came out onto a wonderful stretch of really flowery country full of ruined towns and inhabited by shepherds living in black tents. At the very highest point of the hills lay the village I wanted to see. There was no road up to it and I left my soldier Bellow with the horses and climbed up alone through rocks and flowers. Such a position for a town! all the world at its feet and a wall of snow mountains to the north. There were no people - far away a shepherd boy playing on a reed pipe among the rocks, setting the ruins of Arcadia to music. Everyone had built here and everyone had been inspired by the beauty of the place. There was a Roman temple, highest of all among the hills, and a great church wonderfully decorated and splendid houses with carved balconies and porches. And the sunlight, bless it! over it all. So I came down to my horses and we scrambled on up hill and down till 6 o'clock when I reached my tents. I have an enchanting camp tonight in a ruined town called Debes[?]. It is quite uninhabited and I have pitched my tents in a big church. I can very seldom induce my servants to camp far from habitation. They pine, not unnaturally, for the sour curds and the other luxuries of civilization; I rather miss the sour curds myself but the charm of a solitary camp goes far to console me!

Wed. 5. [5 April 1905] Salkin [Salqin]. We have had such a day's mountaineering! I must say I prefer doing my rock climbing on foot and not on horseback. Today, indeed, I was on foot most of the time, but dragging my unfortunate beast after me up and down walls of rock terrific to the eye. This is no exaggeration. I am pretty well versed in bad roads but till today I did not know what a horse could do. We climbed up and down two mountain ranges. At the second I confess my heart failed me. It rose up before us like a house wall, and no less stony, but my soldier and Mikhail and the very taciturn party who was guiding me seemed to think it possible and up we went. It was awful and indescribable. I didn't for a moment think we should get up with whole limbs. I jumped and tumbled up the stones and my horse jumped and tumbled after me and all the time we were on the edge of little precipices quite high enough to break us to bits if we fell over. And when you get to the top of these terrible hills behold a beautiful country, stony indeed, but with olives growing between the stones and tiny fields of corn and flowers in incredible profusion. The great beauty of the day was the daphne which was flowering in masses everywhere. And so we came to Kalb Lozeh, where there stands one unrivalled church and nothing else, and it was worth all the trouble and the difficulty. I lunched and photographed and made friends with the few families of peasants who live in some cottages near by and imagine my delight when they turned out to [be] Druzes! I knew there were a few families of Druzes in these hills and had been looking for them. So we fell on each others' necks and I gave them all the latest news of the Hauran and one of them insisted on guiding me on my stony way through the hills. We had a memorable climb down into the great plain through which flows our old friend the Orontes ['Asi]. And then a no less memorable ride along the base of the hills to my camping ground. It was more exquisitely beautiful than words can say, through gardens of fruit trees and olives with an unBellievable wealth of flowers everywhere and far far the most fertile bit of country I have seen in Syria. I arrived before my tents in this most enchanting place. While I was waiting, the principal inhabitant appeared and carried me off to his house where I eat excellent sweetmeats and drank coffee. I also called on his father who is a sort of Amfortas. He lies on a couch and you think all the time he will certainly die before he can answer your last remark. After dinner my friend, the son, returned my call. He brought his hubble bubble and settled down to an hour's cosy chat. He has sent me a present of a huge jar of olives from his own olive gardens and he begs me to present his salaams to you.

Thurs 6. [6 April 1905] My friend of yesterday turns out to be brother in law to the leading magnate of the country and this gentleman - who is also the leading villain - happened to be staying with him at the time. Accordingly this morning he proposed that we should all ride down together to his village, which was on my road, and there lunch before I proceeded on my way to Antioch [Antakya (Hatay)]. We set off, the 3 of us and rode an hour through lovely olive groves to the Agha's house. While the lunch was preparing he regaled me with many talks, doubtless true, of official oppression, but omitted to mention that he repaid it all with interest on the unfortunates who are less powerful than he. In this country the big eat the little and the little eat the less and the govt. eat them all impartially. My host himself had recently spent a year in prison on a charge of murder - this also he did not mention. 3 very obsequious persons presently dropped in, who took occasion to whisper to me in an audible aside that the agha was like a king in these parts. We lunched on excellent native food, the meal being enlivened by the Agha's jester, a fat old man like Falstaff in person. At 12 I rode off and had 6 hours to Antioch. All that we suffered yesterday from the stones we suffered today at the opposite end of the scale from the mud. And far worse. Thank Heaven that bit of the road is over. The last hour we plashed through a river which was occupying the place of the road. And so we entered the lovely gardens of Antioch and rode through the town and pitched camp on a bit of high ground beneath the great castle rock. It was sunset, and I was tired so I sent no message to anyone to say I was come, but dined peacefully and went to bed.

Fri. 7. [7 April 1905] Antioch [Antakya (Hatay)] is like the pantaloon whose clothes have grown too wide for his lean shanks. The castle walls go climbing over hill and rock and enclose an immense bit of ground from which the town has shrunk. But you must not think that it is not one of the loveliest places in the world, because it is. It is backed by a great ragged hill, Mount Silpius, with a rocky crown; the town goes streaming down into the wide and fertile valley of the Orontes ['Asi] and beyond the valley rises a beautiful range of mountains. Early this morning I went out and called on our vice consul who is an aimiable [sic] Jew from Damascus [Dimashq (Esh Sham, Damas)]. He and I walked together to the Serai where there are 2 fine Greek sarcophagi and so through all the town to the house of Monsieur Poton who is a French merchant. The town is charming, red tiled its roofs are, and the streets very narrow with balconies and shuttered windows jutting out over the street. But more charming still are Monsieur and Madame Poton, the nicest of French people. After a little talk, Poton and I went to call on Refa'it Agha, the richest Muslim here and a collector of antiquities. He was most polite and agreeable and showed me a beautiful collection of Seleucid coins and some Greek bronzes. I came back to my tents to lunch and am now waiting for the Potons with whom I am going out sightseeing. The post goes tomorrow. After Konia [Konya (Iconium)] will you write to British Consulate Smyrna [Izmir] and ..... I expect to be at Konia [Konya (Iconium)] by May 6 and your letters there will take a good 10 days I think you must count, so do not write there after April 19 or 20.
The govt. seems to me to be behaving in a most wobbly way. The Macdonnell[?] incident is either abject stupidity or bad faith - I wonder which? Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude