DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.12665#0158
142 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL-
first since we left Cairo. Like the ruined and de»
serted village we had left, it was a mingled exhibi*
tion of ancient greatness and modern poverty ; and
probably it was a continuation of the same ruined
Roman city. A large fortress, forming part of a
battlement, in good preservation, and fragments of
a wall, formed the nucleus of a village, around
which the inhabitants had built themselves huts*
The rude artisans of the present day knew nothing
of the works which their predecessors had built;
and the only care they had for them was to pull
them down, and with the fragments to build for
themselves rude hovels and enclosures; and the
sculptured stones which once formed the orna-
ments of Roman palaces, were now worked up into
fences around holes in the ground, the poor dwel*
lings of the miserable Arabs.
The stranger from a more favoured land, in look-
ing at the tenants of these wretched habitations,
cannot help thanking his God that his lot is not like
theirs. When I rode through, the whole popula-
tion had crawled out of their holes and hiding-
places, and were basking in the warmth of a sum-
mer's sun ; and I could not help seeing the kindly
hand of a benefactor in giving to them what he has
denied to us, a climate where, for the greater part
of the year, they may spend their whole days in the
open air, and even at night hardly need the shelter
of a roof. This is probably the last of the cities
which once stood on the great Roman road from
Jerusalem to Akaba. While riding among the
first since we left Cairo. Like the ruined and de»
serted village we had left, it was a mingled exhibi*
tion of ancient greatness and modern poverty ; and
probably it was a continuation of the same ruined
Roman city. A large fortress, forming part of a
battlement, in good preservation, and fragments of
a wall, formed the nucleus of a village, around
which the inhabitants had built themselves huts*
The rude artisans of the present day knew nothing
of the works which their predecessors had built;
and the only care they had for them was to pull
them down, and with the fragments to build for
themselves rude hovels and enclosures; and the
sculptured stones which once formed the orna-
ments of Roman palaces, were now worked up into
fences around holes in the ground, the poor dwel*
lings of the miserable Arabs.
The stranger from a more favoured land, in look-
ing at the tenants of these wretched habitations,
cannot help thanking his God that his lot is not like
theirs. When I rode through, the whole popula-
tion had crawled out of their holes and hiding-
places, and were basking in the warmth of a sum-
mer's sun ; and I could not help seeing the kindly
hand of a benefactor in giving to them what he has
denied to us, a climate where, for the greater part
of the year, they may spend their whole days in the
open air, and even at night hardly need the shelter
of a roof. This is probably the last of the cities
which once stood on the great Roman road from
Jerusalem to Akaba. While riding among the