Chapter XLII: Letter XXXIX: Smyrna, 7th December, 1845

From Nazareth we proceeded down the plain of JESREEL to Mount CARMEL, where we passed the night in the magnificent convent which has been newly erected. The following morning we descended from this promontory, commanding the wide ocean and its fragrant coast, to HAIPHA (Hepha), crossed over the bay to ACCA (Ako, Ptolemais), and then rode along the coast on the damp sandy shore, keeping the mountain range constantly in view, and by SÛR (Tyrus) and SAIDA (Sidon) to BERUT (Berytos), where we met with a kind reception from the Prussian consul-general, Herr von Wildenbruch.

On the 15th of November, we started from Berut for Damascus. I left Gabre Máriam behind with Herr von Wildenbruch, and only took with me my faithful Berber, Ibrahim, and a Kawass. The road, after leaving the sand-hills immediately surrounding Berut, rises directly up these glorious mountains, abounding in flowers, trees, and springs of water. We crossed it nearly on the frontier between the territories of the Druses and the Maronites. We ascended all day, part of the time on terribly bad roads cut in the rock, and spent the night on this side of the mountain ridge; we did not reach the summit till the following morning, and now had a wide prospect over the fertile plain of the LEONTES, which separates Libanon and Anti-Libanon, and which, with the brief interruption of Gebel e’ Scheikh (Hermon), with its ramifications protruding upwards, it forms one single huge cleft through the whole of the valley of the Jordan, and continues across the Dead Sea, as far as the Gulf of Akaba and the Red Sea. We descended to MEKSEH, took our breakfast on one of its flat roofs, and intended to have cut across from this point, in a south-easterly direction, through the valley to MEGDEL and AITHI, but, in preference, we took a circuitous road towards the north to ZACHLEH, which is one of the largest and most flourishing towns of Christian Libanon. On the road we met a troop of soldiers, who were escorting some thousands of weapons on asses, which had been taken the previous day from the inhabitants of Zachleh. The disarming of the whole of Libanon by Schekib Effendi had commenced from the south, and, as is well known, was executed with the greatest prejudice against the unfortunate Christians, who were miserably sacrificed to a piece of reckless commercial policy. In order to disarm Zachleh, which is a strong and influential post, it had been besieged by two hundred regular troops, some of whom we still found stationed there, and also a countless multitude of Bedouins had been allowed to encamp in the great valley of the Beqâʾa, whose aid against the Christians they would have availed themselves of in case of necessity; these last, however, had again withdrawn. We inquired in the town, which was still in a state of great excitement, after Bishop Theophilus, who was described to us as both a vigorous and heroic champion in the fight; but unfortunately he had just set off for Beirut. After we had again departed, we met on the road a German Catholic priest, who accompanied us to the adjoining place, MOʾALLAQA, and told us much of the cruelties which the Turks had practised here, as elsewhere, on the miserable inhabitants. Several hundred more muskets had been demanded than really existed in the whole place, and the old Sheikhs, who ought to have supplied them, were cudgelled till the missing muskets had been purchased by the inhabitants at a high price, and with great difficulty, in the camp of the Turks themselves.

From Zachleh we went to KERAK, in order to visit the tomb of Noah at that spot. We found a long, narrow building, of well joined square blocks, and beside it a small building with a cupola, surrounded by trees, from which there was a beautiful prospect of the plain, and of Anti-Libanon. Through a window, hung with votive shreds, I saw a tomb built up in the usual Oriental form within the long vaulted room, and I was not a little surprised to see, through the windows in the whole length of the building, a constant continuation of this same tomb, which seemed to have neither a beginning nor an end. At length the door-keeper arrived, and, to my astonishment, I was convinced that the tomb was 40 ells long, by exact measurement 31 metres 77′ (131 feet English), therefore somewhat more than 40 ordinary Egyptian ells.[116] The case assumes an air of probability, as this measurement of the length of Noah’s body is exactly proportionate to the length of his life, one thousand years.

From Kerak we at length turned to our right, into the plain across to TEL EMDIEH, we then turned to our left into a valley, which again conducted us directly northward, and at sunset arrived at EL ʾAIN, a small village near a spring, situated at the upper end of the valley, at a considerable height above the great plain. From our having followed the circuitous road to Zachleh and Kerak, we were somewhat beyond the day that we had calculated on, and therefore determined, to the disappointment of our mule driver, to go on still farther to ZEBEDÊNI, which was said to be situated on the eastern declivity of Anti-Libanon, two hours from hence. As none of our people had ever gone this road across the mountains, we took a guide with us, who very soon led us out of our valley, which ascended towards the north, between the lower mountains and the principal ridge, and led us up a steep, toilsome, and endless rocky path on our right hand. The moon rose, hours passed on, and the ardently-desired Zebedêni would never make its appearance. At length we stood on the precipitous border of another deep valley, up which we were compelled to clamber painfully on foot, for another whole hour, leading our animals; and it was not before midnight that we reached Zebedêni, after a march of six hours. All here were plunged in the most profound slumber; we were obliged to knock at several houses to inquire our road to the convent, where we hoped to find some shelter. At length we were told that there was indeed a church, but no room in the adjoining convent to receive us. We therefore quartered ourselves in the last house, which was opened to us after knocking at it for a long time. It only contained _one_ large room, but there was sufficient space for ourselves and our servants, after the whole of the numerous family of men, women, and children, had retired to one corner. The people were, however, friendly and courteous, the next morning received their backshish, and took leave of us, with an invitation to repeat the visit on our return. We now proceeded down the beautiful fertile valley of Zebedêni towards the south, for an hour and a half, when we again turned eastward, into the precipitous rocky defile, where the rippling brook, beside which we had hitherto been marching, swelled into a small river, called BÁRADA, opening a path for itself, in most beautiful and picturesque cascades, through luxuriant verdure, to the great plain of Damascus. We rode for several hours along its precipitous banks, sometimes in the very bed itself, till we came to a lofty pointed arch, which, as a bridge, conducted us from the left to the right bank. Here the road went up the mountain, and disclosed a number of ancient rock-tombs, opposite the continuation of the steep rock-precipice we had just left. Soon afterwards the wild ravine opened into a broader valley, through which the rushing river winds more quietly, passing several pleasantly situated villages. It had hitherto pierced in an easterly direction, through a mountain ridge, passing from north to south, from which it now issued through a lofty rock-gate. Two single mountain masses rose up like mighty pylons towards the east; on the summit of the one to the south, rising almost perpendicularly several thousand feet, was a small sepulchral edifice, surrounded by trees. This place is worshipped as the tomb of Abel, NEBBI HABÎL, who, according to tradition, was buried here. The summit is said to be almost inaccessible, and so it appeared, at least from this side, we therefore omitted to investigate whether a tomb, 40 ells in length, had been also erected to the youth Habel. At the foot of the mount the ancient city of ABILA was formerly situated, whose name has probably given rise to the story.

We now quitted for several hours the enchanting valley of the Bárada, and rode over bare rocky plateaus, till at GEDÎDEH we again descended to it, and rested a short time upon its bank, in the shadow of tall plane-trees and silver poplars of changing hue. At length we once more quitted the river, which had become gradually fuller, and more rapid, by the addition of various brooks, and ascending a high mountain, we suddenly stood in front of the illimitable plain, which lay spread out before us unbounded by mountain ranges, and covered like one large garden with innumerable leafy green trees, and intersected by roads and streams. In the midst of this garden, and immediately at our feet, lay glorious DAMASCUS, with its cupolas, minarets, and terraces. We knew that we were about to see one of the most celebrated prospects in the world, but we were, nevertheless, astonished, and found our expectations surpassed by the magnificent picture which, like a stroke of enchantment, unfolded itself before us in the direction of the lovely but narrow valleys, alternating with barren, rocky deserts. We lingered nearly an hour at this point, which has been rendered prominent by a magnificent dome, resting upon four isolated pillars, called QUBBET E’ NASR, the “victorious cupola.”

Damascus is one of the holiest and most lauded cities of the East. The prophet Mohammed considered it thrice blessed, because the angels spread their wings over the city, and at the glorious sight are said not to have taken possession of it for this reason, that _one_ Paradise only is intended for man, and that one he will find in heaven. In the Koran, God swears by the fig and the olive-tree, that is by Damascus and Jerusalem, and the Arabian geographers call it the mole on the cheek of the World, the plumage of the peacock of Paradise, the necklace of beauty, and among the Sultan’s titles, “the Paradise-scented Dimischk.”[117] In accordance with the legend of the Oriental Christians, Adam was here formed out of the reddish earth of the district; and tradition places the spot where Cain slew Abel on Mount KASIUN, near this.

The Bárada, which we had followed from its first source, enters the great plain a little south of Damascus, turns to the left towards the city, through which it flows in seven branches, and then passes into a lake. It was the gold-streaming Chrysorrhoas of the ancients, the much-praised Farfar of the Eastern poets. It was this river that, calling forth the whole idea of Paradise, gave at all times to this most ancient city—known even by Abraham, and conquered by David—its great importance. Damascus was formerly one of the chief seats of Arabian literature and learning, and a disciple of the Prophet is said to have given instruction in reading the Koran to 1600 of the faithful at once (after the method of Joseph Lancaster) in the great mosque of the Ommiads. The city at first seemed but little to correspond with the glorious country surrounding it. We entered streets of considerable breadth, but bare, closed in by low houses, whose mud walls had small doors, and scarcely any windows. None of the beautiful wood-carvings of Cairo, or stone decorations, were to be seen on the windows and doors. Some of the mosques and fountains which we passed were the only exceptions; and the number of single trees in the streets and in the squares had a pleasant appearance. Farther in the interior of the city we came to the long bazaar, consisting mostly of massive building. The well-filled booths, the abundance of fruits of every kind that were heaped up, finally, the crowd of people, of all ages and of every description, in all sorts of costumes, and the endless turnings from one street into the other, impressed us with the feeling that we were in a large and wealthy capital of the East. We first rode to our Prussian consul, who was, however, prostrated with fever. We therefore proceeded still farther, to an inn, lately established. Here also, as in the consul’s house, we passed through a narrow door in a plain outer wall into a small dark court, and out of that into another low and angular passage. But then a beautiful spacious court was disclosed, surrounded on all sides by magnificent shining marble walls, in the centre of which was a fountain, overshadowed by tall trees. On the farther side was a vaulted niche, the entrance-arch of which was five-and-twenty feet high. To this we ascended by some marble steps, and now found ourselves in a somewhat narrow but lofty saloon, which was open to the court, and had commodious divans placed along the inner walls. On the left of this niche was the dining-room; on the right a staircase, by which we ascended to the rooms above, which we occupied. They were wainscoted all round, and the walls, as well as the ceiling, were adorned with a variety of decorations painted in gold and silver. We afterwards saw several more of the finest houses in Damascus, all of which appeared externally almost mean, but in the interior displayed Oriental splendour more like a fairy tale than anything which I have since seen in these countries. And occasionally, even at the present day, they build their houses in this style, at least if we may judge by some of these small palaces, which were only erected between ten and twenty years ago. There is a lavish display of marble, and other costly stones, in these courts, halls, and rooms, such as with us is only seen in royal palaces. The beautiful open hall, which is always formed in front simply by a lofty arch, sometimes appears on two, or even three, sides of the court, and not unfrequently has also a small fountain to itself, independent of the larger one, which is never absent, and is usually shaded by trees, which grow up from the midst of the slabs of marble.

The following day we spent entirely in viewing the city, and especially the rich bazaars, in which beautiful silks embroidered in gold and silver, splendid weapons, and other brilliant articles of Eastern luxury are exposed for sale. We visited the great Khan, with its nine immense domed chambers, a kind of exchange frequented by the most considerable merchants; then the mighty Mosque of the Ommiads, regarded as very sacred, whose Hall of Pillars is 550 feet long and 150 broad. It was formerly a Christian church, which itself was said to have been built on the foundation of a Roman temple to Juno. We were not permitted to enter, and therefore could only survey it through the numerous open gates, and were even prevented from mounting on the roof of a neighbouring house by a fanatical Mussulman, so that we were obliged to defer doing so till our return on the following day. We were shown the enormous plane-tree, thirty-five feet in circumference, standing in the middle of a street near a fountain, called after an old Sheikh, Ali, who is said to have planted the tree. We also stepped into the inviting coffee-houses on the cool bank of the river. Next morning we rode to the southern gate of the city, called BAB ALLAH, to which a street above an hour long leads in a direct line between magnificent shops, mosques, workshops, and other buildings; this is probably the so-called “Straight-street” (ἡ ῥύμη ἡ καλουμένη εὐθεῖα) in which Saul dwelt when he was converted by Ananias. (Acts ix. 11.)

On the road we stopped at the small cupola building which is usually regarded as the tomb of Saladin, but which is only a place of worship built to his honour by Sultan Selîm. The real tomb is said to be twelve hours to the south of Damascus, near a place called GIBBA; this was confirmed by the Sheikh whom we met here. From BAB ALLAH, the “gate of God,” through which the pilgrims to Jerusalem and Mecca pass, we rode to the left round the city through the pleasant gardens of olives, poplars, mulberries, and gigantic apricot-trees; these last produce those delicious apricots which, when dried, are sent to all quarters of the world under the appellation of Misch-misch. We then came to the cemetery of the Jews, where a corpse was being lowered into the grave; and, according to the custom here, the virtues of the deceased were called to mind and eulogised. Not far off is situated the Christian cemetery, near which the spot is marked where Saul was struck to the ground by the heavenly vision. Thence our road led over a small bridge to the city wall, in which, near a gate now built up, we were shown a window from which Paul was let down. We followed the wall as far as a beautiful ancient Roman gate with three entrances, the _porta orientalis_, through which we came to the house of Ananias, with the rock-cave, which is now converted into a Latin chapel. We then rode through the gardens of fruit and olive-trees to a neighbouring village, GÔBA, where Elisha crowned King Hazael of Syria, and where Elijah was fed by a raven in a chamber of the rock.

On our departure from Damascus we also visited SALHÎEH, a place in the neighbourhood, the tomb of the greatest of the Arabian mysticists, the celebrated Sheikh MOHIEDDIN EL ARABI, and were here also reminded of his teacher, SCHEDELI, who invented the beverage of coffee, and who was in the habit of keeping his disciples awake with it.

In Palestine we had wandered among the tombs of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Rebecca, Leah, and Rachel, of Joseph, David, Solomon, and the prophets, of Christ, his parents and disciples. Here we came to the tombs of Noah and Abel, and soon after to Seth also, and set foot on the fields of Paradise, which belonged to the first pair. What a strange sensation to travel in these regions, where tradition deals with such materials!

We halted the first night after our departure in SUK EL BÁRADA, at the foot of Nebbi Habîl. From this point we again crossed over the old pointed arch bridge, which, like most early structures in this country, is said to have been built by the Empress Helena; and this time we examined the ancient rock-tombs somewhat more accurately. We reached them by a difficult path, partly by an ancient aqueduct hewn in the rock. Some of these tombs were planned in a singular manner, and appeared to be very old; farther on followed several from the Greek period, with bas-reliefs and gable-ends, and some steles upon the rock, on which we were still able to decipher some Greek words. Not far from this, up the river, we found a mighty Roman work, the great, ancient, now deserted high-road hewn for a considerable distance through the living rock, and two Roman inscriptions, each in two copies, on the flat lofty wall behind. The longer one ran as follows:—IMPerator CAESar Marcus AVRELius ANTONINVS | AVGustus ARMENIACVS ET IMPerator CAESar Lucius AVRELius VERVS AVGustus AR | MENIACVS VIAM FLVMINIS | VI ABRVPTAM INTERCISO | MONTE RESTITVERVNT PER | IVLium VERVM LEGatum PRO PRaetore PROVINCiæ | SYRiæ ET AMICVM SVVM | IMPENDIIS ABILENORVM. The other:—PRO SALVTE IMPeratoris AVGusti ANTONI | NI ET VERI Marcus VO | LVSIVS MAXIMVS | Ↄ (centurio) LEGionis XVI Flaviae Firmae | QVI OPERI IN | STITIT Vota suscepto.[118]

Since that time the rock has no doubt been twice hollowed out and broken away by the torrent, which has certainly great force every spring; for, in the immediate neighbourhood of the second copy of the two inscriptions, the rock-road is terminated by a sudden precipice. By four o’clock we had mounted Anti-Libanon, and at NEBBI SCHÎT, that is SETH, we again entered the great plain of the Leontes. We immediately went in search of the tomb of Nebbi Schît, and were not a little surprised to find here also, as at Nebbi Noëh, a solid ancient Arabian building, with a small cupola standing beside it, and within, a tomb _forty_ ells long. It was even broader than that of Noah, because three steps led up to the height of the monument on either side, the whole way along, which in the former case were wanting. By bestowing on them such an unusual size of body, the legend evidently wished to distinguish these two patriarchs as having lived before the Flood, and the number 40, which is used so frequently both in the Old and New Testament as an undetermined sacred number, has not, as is here exemplified, lost its application among the Arabs.

The same evening we rode on two hours farther, to BRITAN; and the following morning we started before sunrise for BÂLBECK, the ancient Heliopolis, with its celebrated ruins of the temple of the Sun. I lingered first at the ancient stone-quarries, in front of which the road passed, and there measured a block of building-stone, which was not quite separated from the rock; it was 67 feet long, 14 feet broad, and 13 feet 5 inches thick. Many of the walls in the temple ruins in Bâlbeck are composed of similar, or not much smaller blocks. One which I measured on the spot, and in its original position, without making any particular selection, was 65 feet 4 inches by 12 feet 3 inches and 9 feet 9 inches large. They are, indeed, grand ruins, but the ornamental part of the architecture is heavy, overloaded, and some in a very barbarous taste.

Bâlbeck is associated with a sad recollection. As I approached the scattered houses of the village, immediately adjoining the ancient temple ruins, my faithful servant Ibrahim, who had arrived here before us, met me with the joyful intelligence that Abeken, from whom we had separated in Jerusalem, had just arrived. I found him, in fact, in the house of the venerable Bishop Athanasius situated close at hand; but we had scarcely greeted each other, when I was informed that Ibrahim was lying in the road dying. I hastened out, and found him almost in the very spot where he had shortly before saluted me in so friendly a manner, lying extended with the rattle in his throat; his eyes were already dim. It was in vain that a priest of the neighbouring convent endeavoured to give assistance; in a few minutes he died before my face. His death seems to have been occasioned by a chill. He was a thoroughly excellent man, with a natural nobleness of character not often found among the Arabs. I had taken him with me on my journey to Nubia from Assuan; he wished of his own accord, and from his attachment to me, to accompany me to Europe, and by his knowledge of the Nubian dialect, would have been very useful to me in my studies of the languages of the Sudan. I was anxious to place a tombstone to his memory at the foot of Anti-Libanon, where he was buried on the declivity of the hill, beside a tree, but we found no stone-mason who could execute it. I therefore sent one to Bâlbeck from Berut, with an inscription as follows:—IBRAHIMO HASSAN SYENE ORIVNDO SERVO BENE MERENTI P. R. LEPSIUS. D. XXI. _Novemb._ MDCCCXLV.

This news made a great impression on Gabre Máriam when I communicated it to him in Berut; he wept bitterly, for they had been excellent friends.

Before we left Bâlbeck, the bishop advised us to take a different road from what we intended, as intelligence had been received that there was much disturbance on the other side of Libanon, and that the population had revolted. But, in fact, as the whole country was in a state of great excitement, and we had notwithstanding found no difficulty, we paid little regard to his recommendation, and told him we should only pass through Christian districts, whose inhabitants would look upon us as friends. We quitted Bâlbeck shortly before sunset, and traversed the narrow plain, in order to spend the night in DER EL AHMAR, the “Red Convent,” and the following day, with renewed strength, ascend Libanon almost to its highest point, so that we might again descend by the famous cedar forest. Hitherto we had been favoured, during our whole journey in Palestine and Syria, with the most beautiful weather. From day to day we had been expecting increasing rain, according to the calendar of the weather on other years, and up to the present time had only once been drenched—on our return from the Dead Sea to Jerusalem. The wide plain of BEQÂʾA, which we now traversed for the second time, is quite impassable after rain at this season of the year, and the numerous mountain streams of Libanon, so abounding in springs, generally swell these to such a degree that, with the frequent absence of bridges, they can only be crossed with extreme danger. The sky clouded over in a threatening manner this evening, the obscurity of the night was impenetrable, and at length, after we had already seen some of the lights of DER EL AHMAR in the distance, we lost our way on a barren piece of ground rent by rugged clefts. At length, we had hardly arrived, when the rain poured down in torrents. Here again we shared a large room with the whole of a Christian peasant family, but we spent a most restless night. There were constant groans and lamentations among the women and children, who appeared to be sick. In a short time the incessant rain had soaked through the flat roof of the house, and trickled upon the beds; people were now sent up to throw fresh sand upon the roof, and to ram it firm with pieces of stone pillars, which are ready for this purpose on the top of all the houses; but this operation sent down so much lime and dirt upon us, that we were at length compelled to request they would discontinue this well-intentioned repair. In a small shed near the door lay a dog with a numerous progeny, whose bed seemed also to have been invaded by the rain, for they began to whine and yelp in the most wretched manner. At length our hosts were roused by repeated loud knocks, to furnish a horse for a soldier, who was carrying letters farther on at the utmost speed for the Pascha. Thus we got no rest the whole night through; and if an Arabian proverb says, that the king of the fleas keeps his court in Tiberias, the holy city of the Jews, I have now every reason to suppose that he has since then transferred his residence hither from that spot, where we had found good and undisturbed lodging.

The rain subsided towards morning, and gave place to a thick mist which, continuing still in single large clouds, seemed sometimes wholly to cut off the ascent to the mountain fronting the lofty ridge of Libanon, but also often charmed us by its magic play with the penetrating light of the cool morning sun round the nearer and the more distant wooded hills and points of rock. When we reached the first elevations, which are separated from the principal chain by a level valley, we suddenly burst upon an indescribably beautiful and astounding prospect. The sight of the chain of Libanon, covered in its whole extent and far down with fresh dazzling snow, was a real Alpine landscape on the grandest scale, rising majestically above the eternal spring of this blessed land, though now indeed so miserably trodden down by the hereditary enemy the Turk. I thoroughly enjoyed this unusual spectacle, which roused a true home-like joy in my heart, and I endeavoured to imbibe all that I could of the clear, white, quiet light. I drove my little Egyptian horse in front of me, which had lost its rider in Bâlbeck, and now bore on its back the small possessions he had left behind him. I thought how, a few days previously, I had been enjoying the thoughts of seeing my good Ibrahim’s surprise when he should pass through the snowy region of Libanon along with us. The deep parts of the snow which soon after we were obliged to ride through, did not seem to annoy the ass; it frequently stood still astonished in the midst of the snow, and no doubt viewed it all as salt, soft white fields of which it had known near the Red Sea and elsewhere. We rode zig-zag up the extremely steep mountain precipice between seven and eight thousand feet high. It is not rocky at this point, but covered with earth, and terminates in a sharp ridge. “El hamdu l’illah,” exclaimed the old guide when he had attained the summit, and “Salâm, salâm,” resounded in one chorus of voices. We had almost ascended the highest point of Libanon, but the prospect over land and sea was unfortunately hidden from us by clouds and layers of mist, although we had blue sky above us. After a short ride downwards from the summit, our guide pointed out the ancient venerable forest of cedars at our feet in a great level bay of the mountain range, from which King Hiram had sent the huge stems to Solomon for the building of the Temple; it looked as small as a garden from this lofty point. For a long while it was considered the only remains of those ancient forests, till, in recent times, several more tracts of cedar forest have been discovered in some of the northern parts of Libanon. We soon again lost sight of the cedars as we descended deeper among the layers of cloud, which excluded all prospect. Suddenly the dark shade of these gigantic trees rose like mountain spirits, close beside us, out of the grey mass of mist. We rode to the chapel of the hermit, who usually presents the stranger here, with a good glass of wine of Libanon, but we found it closed; just then the clouds dissolved into a most prosaic rain, from which we were scarcely able to shelter ourselves beneath the wide roof of needles of the noble cedars. I found a beautiful cedar cone hanging down sufficiently low for me to break it off and take it away with me as a keepsake. Single stems of these cedars are 40 feet in circumference, and 90 feet high; and as one cedar, which they pretend they know to be 100 years old, is only half a foot in diameter, the largest cedars are stated to be 3000 years old, which would go back as far as the time of Solomon. The rain increased, and we had still several thousand feet to descend before reaching the nearest village, BSCHERREH. The lower we came, so much the more slippery and dangerous grew the narrow, sometimes rocky, sometimes soaked footpath, which led along the precipitous side of the valley with an abrupt precipice to our right. Turning an angle of rock, we at length gained sight of the night quarters we so longed to reach. The wealthy, inviting, and important village of Bscherreh, which gives a name to the whole district, is well known from its powerful and influential, but wild, uncontrolled, and often cruel inhabitants.

The rain had abated, the white houses, with their terrace roofs, between which a number of silver poplars, plane-trees, and cypresses, rise up singly, or in rows, were placed one above the other in a semicircle, on a hill projecting from the right side of the valley, and shining after the rain, they looked as if they had just emerged from a bath. Nothing was stirring in the village; it seemed as if it were perfectly dead. I rode in advance of the rest of our party, with our old guide, up a narrow path beside vineyard walls, when suddenly, at a bend in the road, a strong voice called out to me, and when I looked up, over the terrace of the vineyard, which was about a man’s height, to my no small surprise I saw about twenty muskets pointed at me and the guide. He let go the bridle of his horse, stretched out his hands towards heaven, and shouted out to the people. I hastily threw back the cape of my cloak, in order to show the people my European hat, and let them see who we were. When they perceived that we were but a small party, and that we did not put ourselves in any attitude of defence, they came out in hundreds from behind the trees, surrounded us with loud yells, and for a long time would not believe but that we were soldiers in disguise. Some even struck at our horses with staves, downwards from the terrace, while I was endeavouring to explain to those nearest to us who we were. Others had more quickly perceived their error; they came down to the street, and took my horse by the bridle. One especially, an animated boy of about fourteen, with a clear eye, beautiful forehead, and ruddy, fresh cheeks, pressed forwards towards me, calling out in Italian, that we should fear nothing, it was all a mistake, we were their friends, that I had only to ride on and dismount at the house of his brother. Some vehement people continued to accompany us, and called out to us from the wall, with the most angry gesticulations, while the great mass were already satisfied, and uttered a deafening cry of joy; they fired off muskets in the air, and now conducted us in triumph to the village.

All were on foot in Bscherreh, which contains between 1200 and 1500 inhabitants, and there was pressing and pushing to kiss our hands and clothes; the women began their piercing shrieks, clapped their hands, and danced; my honest youth remained constantly by my side, and thus step by step we made our way through the dense crowd, whom we now also greeted as friends, till we arrived in front of the Sheikh’s house, whose youngest brother was my companion and guide. We were led up the stone staircase, and the open hall in front, to the spacious saloon which was to shelter us.

I conversed almost the whole evening with the Sheikh of the village, JUSEF HANNA DAHIR, a young and handsome man, with a serious, gentle countenance, inspiring confidence. His father had fallen in the war, under Ibrahim Pascha, who will soon be invested here with an odour of sanctity, should the present abominations of the Turks last much longer. Sheikh Jusef was the eldest son of this numerous and ancient family, in which the dignity of Sheikh is hereditary. He related to me with perfect frankness, composure, and intelligence, what was now going on among them, how they had resolved to supply the weapons which were required, but had retracted this determination when they heard of the disgraceful manner in which the Turkish military had behaved in the southern districts; thirty-four villages had now combined, and sworn in their churches not to furnish the weapons, but to use them against the Turkish dogs. When I asked him if they had any prospect of being able to defend themselves successfully against a disciplined army, especially since the death of their common leader, Emir Beschir, he told me that in Bscherreh alone there were 3000, and in the whole of the district which had formed a combination 13,000 armed men—as large a number as the Turkish military in the country. Besides this, they had their mountains, their snow and rain, their passes and lurking holes, which would render all the Turkish cavalry and artillery useless. I nevertheless advised them to apply to a consul at Berut, who was friendly to their cause, to solicit some mediation, and to avoid the last extremity. As I afterwards heard, this has taken place. The French consul-general, Bourré, has treated with the Pascha on their behalf.

But all may have been too late, and I fear that the storm of war has long since broken over my excellent hosts in Bscherreh, and that their wives and children have been even less spared than those of their weaker neighbours.

I was rejoiced to be of some service that evening to the young Sheikh, whose pleasing and composed deportment pre-possessed me much in his favour. I bound up a wound for him better than was possible with the means he had at hand, and provided him with linen and lint. He told me that we could not set out next day, for he must prepare a feast for us, roast a sheep, and show us that he was our friend; but I declined the invitation, which was made with all sincerity.

The following morning we took a servant of the Sheikh with us as far as the next village, EHDEN, which we also found in great excitement, but not inimical to us. Outposts had been stationed, and the variegated costume of the population, their bright red and yellow dresses, looked at a distance like a spring flower-garden among the green trees; they surrounded and questioned us, and even here there seemed to be divided opinions as to what we were. One young Amazon ran for a considerable distance beside us, raised her finger in a menacing manner, and upbraided us that we Franks did not openly and vigorously side with them.

We here dismissed our companion from Bscherreh; in his place, a rider, on a magnificent fiery horse, unasked, attached himself to our party; he politely saluted us, and keeping at a certain distance never lost sight of us. In about a couple of hours afterwards, at a more gentle inclination of the mountain, we perceived a troop of armed people in the field, who had planted the red banner of blood to preach war and revolt far away over the plain. The patrol advanced to meet us, and absolutely refused our proceeding any farther. It was only after long negotiations that, by means of a gold piece and the intercession of our companion, who seemed to be the Sheikh of a neighbouring village, we were granted free passage, but the whole troop accompanied us down the hill. When we had passed the next and last village, ZAHERA, our attendant Sheikh was obliged to employ serious threats to get us safe across the frontiers of the revolted district; he then accompanied us still farther down a valley, as far as a turn of the rock, and then saluting us shortly, rode merrily back among his mountains. We were but a few hours distant from TRIPOLIS, which we reached shortly after sunset; passing the grave Turkish guards, who may have possibly lost some of their stupid indolence, with the prospect of a near and desperate contest with the courageous inhabitants of the mountains.

In TRIPOLIS, now called TARABLUS, we stayed in the Latin convent, which is inhabited and taken care of by only two monks. They related to us that the Christians of Libanon had come to them a short time ago, and asked for their spiritual intercessions, whereupon they had not scrupled to dispense the holy sacrament for the space of three days. Unfortunately, the Maronites fail much less in such spiritual intercessions and good wishes than in the corporal provisions of bread and powder, for the Turks cut off their supply.

The following morning we visited the Prussian American consul, who inhabits a handsome house, fitted up in the Oriental style, and afterwards went to the Bazar. Just then a large division of Turkish horsemen, on their road to Libanon, passed over a beautiful old bridge in the centre of the town, dressed in their party-coloured, streaked, dirty uniforms, with their lances ten feet long adorned with black bunches of ostrich feathers, their small war kettle-drums in full beat. Towards noon we again departed, just as the new Turkish general entered by the same gate from Berut, through which we had ridden out. On the road we met the divisions of the troops which had been ordered hither from Zachleh. From this point our road lay along the sea-coast, and almost the whole day we heard the thunder of the artillery in the adjacent mountains.

We spent the night in a Khan on this side of the promontory of RAS E’ SCHEKAB, named after the ancient θεοῦ πρόσωπον; no doubt because the black mountain, which here projects into the sea, assumes the exact form of a bust to those coming from the north. The following day we came to ancient BYBLOS (Gebel), and then crossed over the ADONIS river, which still, after violent rain, is occasionally the colour of blood, mourning over the wounded favourite of Aphrodite. Passing GUNEH, generally proceeding along the sea, sometimes even in it, we arrived at NAHR EL KELB, the ancient LYCUS, to the south of which the celebrated bas-reliefs of Ramses-Sesostris, and of a later Assyrian king[119], are engraved upon a rock projecting into the sea. In spite of our rapid ride we did not reach the rock-tablets till shortly after sunset, and we spent the night in the Khan beyond.

The following morning I investigated the sculpture more accurately, close to which passed the very ancient, artificial road, which is now destroyed, and I was rejoiced to make an important acquisition, for I was enabled to decipher a date in the hieroglyphic inscriptions. Among the three Egyptian representations, which all bear the Shields of Ramses II., the central one is dedicated to the chief god of the Egyptians, RA (Helios), the southern one to the Theban or Upper Egyptian AMMON, and the northern to the Memphitic or Lower Egyptian PHTHA; this Ramses had also dedicated to these same gods the three remarkable rock-temples in Nubia, at GERF HUSSÊN, SEBÛA, and DERR, no doubt because they were viewed by him as the three chief representatives of Egypt. On the central stele, the inscription begins below the representation, with the date of the 2ND CHOIAK OF THE 4TH YEAR OF THE REIGN OF KING RAMSES; the Ammon stele, on the other hand, was dated from the _second_, or (if the two strokes above were connected) from the _tenth_ year; at all events, not the same year as the central stele, from which we might conclude that all three representations referred to _different_ campaigns.

We did not leave the tomb of St. George unvisited, and the church dedicated to him near Nahr el Kelb; and as we entered BERUT towards evening, we deviated from our path to visit the well where the dragon which he slew was in the habit of drinking. Thus, on the 26th of November, we ended our excursion to, and over the mountain range of, Libanon; justly lauded from its numerous historical recollections, and its rare natural beauties, of which the poet says, “that it bears winter on its head, spring upon its shoulders, autumn in its lap, but that summer slumbers at its feet on the Mediterranean.”

EXTRACTS FROM THE WORK OF DR. LEPSIUS ENTITLED THE CHRONOLOGY OF THE EGYPTIANS.

BERLIN, 1849.

WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE EXODUS OF THE ISRAELITES.

REVISED BY THE AUTHOR.

EXTRACTS FROM THE AUTHOR’S DEDICATION TO THE CHEVALIER BUNSEN.

My chronological work (the first volume of which is now before you), starting from a far more limited point of view, has a less remote aim than your history[120], and will be at most but a supplemental elaboration of the ideas originally laid down in your more comprehensive plan. It is not my task to indicate the position Egypt occupies in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD, but only in its external form in the HISTORY OF TIME; it is therefore chronological, not historical. But to obtain the chronological basis was, with reason in your opinion also, the first and most important point of your inquiry, because upon this must depend every extensive development of history. You derived your information directly from those authors from whom we learn the connection of events, as a whole, and in detail. I obtained mine from the monuments, which establish the authenticity of the Greek account, frequently disclose their meaning, and necessarily correct, complete, and confirm their separate statements. The mutual interchange was intended to have led to a common result. If formerly this was not always the case, the interruption of our intercourse could not but lead us in many points still farther apart. I have never hesitated to express myself freely when I have differed from you, because I well know that, like me, you alone regard the subject before you, and are convinced that truth is finally elicited only by a distinct presentation of opposing possibilities. In the present investigations, also, I have yielded to this conviction, but on that account have felt it still more obligatory to lay them first of all before you, and fulfilling an agreeable duty, dedicate them to you as a public testimony of my gratitude.

In this work I have touched upon the most various provinces of archæology, and have frequently been obliged to oppose, in essential points, the views of men whom I honour and admire as the heroes of science, and as unsurpassed models in criticism and true inquiry. This opposition would be presumptuous were it not that these contested points are mere specialities in the wide domain over which those men rule, to refute which, even successfully, could not abate from their just fame; while, on the other hand, most of them are vital questions in the solution of the present undertaking, and closely connected with the very substance of those investigations, with which I have especially endeavoured to render myself familiar.

Had my vocation placed me in a political position, my motto would have been REVERENCE and FREEDOM, and with REVERENCE and FREEDOM (those are your words) science must also be pursued. Reverence, for everything that is venerable, sacred, noble, great, and approved; freedom, wherever truth and a conviction of it are to be obtained and expressed. Where the latter is wanting, there fear and hypocrisy will exist; where the former, insolence and presumption will luxuriate in science as in life.

The investigation of Egyptian history will gradually exercise an extensive influence upon all branches of archæology—upon our whole conception of the past history of man. We must therefore expect a reaction from all these sides. Some of these influential points have been already vindicated, partly by you and partly in the investigations now before us. They will not fail to call forth an animated opposition, and at best elicit discussion, going to the root of the question, and emendation on the part of the learned, to whose opinion I attach the greatest weight.

That section of my volume which endeavours to establish the relation of the Egyptian to the Old Hebrew Chronology, will meet with most opposition. Considering the intimate connection that necessarily subsists between the philological and dogmatical method of examining the Biblical Records, it is perfectly natural, that whenever a step in advance, or an error, strives to obtain a place on the philological side, theological interest, so much more universally distributed, takes a part either for, or against it. Whoever would dispute its right to do this, must deny to theology in general its character as a science. The Christianity, which derives its origin and its sustenance from the Bible, is essentially and intrinsically wholly independent of all learned confirmation. But it is the duty of theology, whose task it is to fathom Christianity in a rational manner, and prove its results, to decide scientifically what are the essential points in the holy Scriptures on which it founds its system of Christian belief. Should its true supports not be recognised, but imaginary ones placed in their stead, it will not injure Christianity, but the theological system, or that portion of it which was built on unstable ground. That truth which is discerned by the sound progress of any science whatsoever, cannot be hostile to Christian truth, but must promote it; for all truths, from the very beginning, have formed a compact league against everything that is false and erroneous. Theology, however, possesses no other means than every other science to distinguish scientifically, in any department, between truth and error, namely, only a reasonable and circumspect criticism. Whatever is brought forward according to this method, can only be corrected, or entirely refuted, by a still better and more circumspect criticism.

I believe that you, my honoured friend, and myself, have only one opinion on these points, I have therefore ventured to refer, at the conclusion of this section, to your excellent words, written on an occasion similar to the present. It seems to me, also, that the practical religious meaning, which the Old Testament possesses for every Christian reader, is very independent of the dates of periods, the exact knowledge of which could only have been known by means of a purposeless inspiration to the authors and elaborators of those writings, many of whom lived several centuries later. Strict science has also very generally decided in this manner for a long time past, and has not failed to exercise its purifying reaction upon the dogmatical comprehension of the matter. So much the more solicitous am I, however, as to whether my views will stand your examination, and the judgments of other far more competent investigators than myself in this department, or will, at any rate, meet your consideration.

The two numbers, namely the 430 years of the sojourn of the Israelites in Egypt, and the 480 years from the Exodus to the building of the Temple, have been entirely abandoned by me, but have been the points on which all the most modern investigations have rested, though they appear to have been quite unknown, at least not brought under the consideration of all the older scholars, as Josephus, Africanus, Eusebius, Syncellus, &c. On the other hand, I have clung to the Levitical registers of Generations as a far more certain guide; and thus, in place of a chronological fabric, which had been already long considered untenable, I immediately obtained a true historical foundation, and a chronology bordering, at least, on a perfectly reliable one, as far back as Abraham, and this not only most satisfactorily coincided with all the other historical relations in the writings of the Old Testament, but also with the already established Manethonic-Egyptian computation of time. The path which I have here taken is by no means new. Des Vignoles, Böckh, and Bertheau had already abandoned the number 480 years; you yourself decided against the 430 years, and I find the same path pursued by Engelstoft in the most decided manner in his interesting work, to which, however, too little attention has been paid. Other preparatory labours in the widely extended department of this literature may have escaped my notice, but, at all events, these opinions had hitherto been unable to make themselves properly appreciated, as is evident from the latest works of the most important inquirers; and first among them Ewald’s profound and acute history. Were it only occasioned by this mode of apprehension being hitherto not sufficiently carried out, and requiring especially the essential confirmation of Egyptian chronology, and should the new course which I have adopted on that account win a more general assent, it would be no slight satisfaction to me, and would especially afford me one more guarantee of the genuineness of the Egyptian chronology.

But the real foundation for the Egyptian computation of time, according as, in my opinion, it should be restored, is to be found in the last section of this volume in the criticism upon the authorities which derive their information from Manetho. This is a detailed and complicated investigation, and the superabundant material which is presented, forms a knot which the labour of almost a thousand years, in place of disentangling, has only drawn still tighter, because the wrong ends of the threads were always pulled. It was first of all necessary carefully to pursue these false ends through all their twistings—I mean especially the spurious writings, and the influences exercised by them, and separate them distinctly; but to recognise the true character of the remaining genuine portion, and to fix securely the few principal points. Besides my own preparatory labours, I possessed two admirable researches, upon which I could still further build: your own work, and the one by Böckh upon the Manethonic Computation of Time. The result of the two investigations, which were obtained independently of each other, and published almost simultaneously, deviate very much from one another, since you fix Menes more than 2000 years later than Böckh believes he is placed by Manetho. This discrepancy must be the immediate result of the difference in your fundamental views, which caused Böckh to regard the Manethonic Dynasties as uninterruptedly consecutive, you as partly reigning contemporaneously. Böckh especially cited in support of his view the circumstance, that if we count the Dynasties according to the presentation of them by Africanus in a continuous line, the first year of Menes coincided very nearly with the proleptically calculated year of commencement of an Egyptian Sothis period. He treated the questions under consideration with all the learning and ingenious criticism which is peculiar to this master in archæological investigation, pointing out that the slight deviation between the result which had been arrived at, and the one expected, might be removed by very simple means; and he came to the conclusion, that this agreement was intentionally brought about by the Egyptian annalists, consequently that the Manethonic computation of time was cyclically invented or adapted, not handed down by history. The view that you maintain, which differs very much from this, you founded especially upon the comparison of the Eratosthenic lists with the Manethonic Dynasties of the Old Monarchy; you thus determined the continuous Monarchical Dynasties, whose periods you calculated by the numbers of Eratosthenes, you especially recognised no cyclical element in the Manethonic chronology, and hence believed the accounts of Manetho and Eratosthenes to be a historical tradition, in part the result of learned Alexandrian investigations.

My view corresponds with yours in all essential points. That several of the Dynasties were contemporaneous, appears to me most decidedly attested; and I have been able to obtain a direct, and, as I believe, a genuine Manethonic proof of it. On the other hand, from the beginning I have never been able to lay so much stress upon the list of Eratosthenes, especially upon its individual names and numbers, opposed to the Manethonic statement, as appeared to you justifiable, owing to the important information you obtained from it concerning the Monarchical Dynasties. This is the principal reason why we still differ so much in our determination of the duration of the Old Monarchy down to the entrance of the Hyksos. A cyclical treatment of the Egyptian chronology, which you neither recognised in the History of the Gods, nor in the History of Man, which Böckh, on the other hand, believes he finds in both parts, appears to me, indeed, capable of being demonstrated, but only in the mythical history, before Menes. The result of this has been a confirmation of the sum total of the Manethonic History of Man, which is also considered genuine by you, and upon which I imagine I may venture to place the greatest weight.

CONTENTS.