Terkiyeh Mosque, Damascus

Presently the Mannûn et Tekîyeh invited me to witness the daily distribution of soup. He led me to the north side of the court, and into a large vaulted hall or kitchen, supported by four massive columns and piers blackened by smoke. In the middle there were two rudely constructed open fire-places of cemented stone, side by side, and on each one stood an enormous cauldron of simmering soup. There were no chimneys; the smoke and steam escaped through the apertures in the great dome above. A small stool was placed for me in the deep high recess of a grated window, whence I could watch the crowds of poor people coming in. The greater number of them were not dwellers in the Tekîyeh, but consisted of the poor of the neighbouring districts. Some were literally clothed in rags, others almost naked, while a few were wrapped in sheets or blankets, or clothed with sheepskins. They ranged themselves against the blackened walls, and stood expectant, with gourds, calabashes, broken pots, or metal bowls in their hands. Behind the cauldron stood two men to ladle out the soup, directed by the Mannûn. I expressed a wish to taste the soup, so the sheikh sent for a silver drinking-cup (in the form of a saucer), and I was served. I found it was composed of rice, vegetables, and meat, flavoured with herbs, and was very substantial. (Source: Picturesque Palestine, vol. 2, pp. 163-64.)

I was afterwards conducted by the sheikh to the innermost court, and we entered the beautiful mosque which stands on the south side of it. The sunlight was streaming through the stained-glass windows of the clerestory of the dome, and a large chandelier, with beautiful lamps, was suspended from the centre. The walls were covered with glazed tiles; those of the mihrab, the niche on the south side, were especially beautiful, and the largest I had seen—much too large to be drawn in my sketch-book full size. I told the sheikh that I regretted this. He instantly went to his house on the opposite side of the court, and brought me some very large well-made Turkish paper, and I made a careful drawing of a tile which measured fifteen inches and a quarter by twelve inches and one-eighth, which well represents the style and character of the tiles throughout the building. I afterwards took coffee and sherbet with him in his room, and he gathered for me his choicest flowers. (Source: Picturesque Palestine, vol. 2, p. 164.)