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Updated: June 22, 2025


Kennedy, from the Foreign Offices at home, was staying at the Consul-General's at Beyrout, so we thought it right to invite him to Damascus, and he accepted our invitation a few weeks later. As this was an official visit we made every preparation. I met him at Shtora, the half-way house between Beyrout and Damascus, and travelled with him in the diligence.

But as we were in a mood for excursions, we went by a longer and roundabout route. We had a delightful ride across the Anti-Lebanon, and then we went by way of Shtora across a mountain called Jebel Baruk, and then a long scramble of six hours led us to the village of Baruk, a Druze stronghold in a wild glen on the borders of the Druze territory.

At last I came in sight of Shtora, the diligence station. The half-hour's rest had expired, the travellers had taken their places, and the diligence was just about to start. But God was good to me. Just as the coachman was about to raise his whip, he turned his head in the direction whence I was galloping. I was hot, torn, and covered with mud and dust from head to foot; but he knew me.

I rode for five hours across country, as though it were a matter of life and death, over rock and through swamps, making for Shtora, the diligence station. I shall never forget that night's ride. Those who know the ground well will understand what it meant to tear over slippery boulders and black swamps in the darkness of the night.

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