This, like the journey last described, of six years before, was portion
of a much longer tour, but I omit all that cannot come under the
designation of a Byeway in Palestine. The two routes were very similar
to each other, with the exception of the passage from Banias to Safed.
Starting from Saida, and trending south-eastwards towards Hhasbeya, we
climbed the mountains, which here rise almost from the sea-shore, and
crossed romantic passes of rugged eminences and deeply cleft ravines.
From Hhasbeya the line was due south to Banias, thence westward by Tell
el Kadi, and Hhuneen, and Tibneen, the capital of the Belad Besharah,
thus almost reaching once more the plain of Phoenicia on its eastern
verge; next by the antiquities of Kadesh Naphtali southwards to Safed;
and homewards to Jerusalem, but this latter route is not to be described,
for the reason given above.
I was accompanied by my niece and another lady, a settled resident of
Jerusalem. The first object after quitting Saida was to visit Joon, and
to show my companions the residence of Lady Hester Stanhope in years gone
by. This we reached just before sunset, on the 2d of October 1855.
The tomb was found much dilapidated; in 1853 it was no longer in so good
a condition as it had been in 1849, but it was now even worse, and the
whole spectacle of house, stables, and gardens, was melancholy in the
extreme: the deprivation of roofs gives a peculiar aspect of desolation
to any abandoned dwelling, especially when the gardens have still their
cultivable flowers remaining, but running riot within their marked-out
beds; these had now been sixteen years neglected, yet the roses and
myrtle only required pruning.
We proceeded to the convent, the road was stony, and we had to find the
way by twilight and starlight.
At the great door we were received by the new president, and several of
the clergy chanting psalms for welcome, and the great bell was ringing at
the same time. I could not but attribute all this unusual display to the
operation of political affairs in Europe.
On taking possession of the rooms allotted to us, I received a visit of
the Greek Catholic Bishop of Saida, he being there on business connected
with the election of a new patriarch in the place of Maximus; his
deportment was that of a man of polite society. Our rooms were lighted
by huge ecclesiastical tapers of wax.
Next morning, after returning the visit of the bishop at the patriarchal
residence in front of the convent, we breakfasted in the corridor with
the president and another of the convent clergy. Our ladies then set
themselves to sketching the view from the window, and talking about
church singing from notes, whereupon the president sent a deacon to fetch
his book, and the latter sang for us an anthem, the vociferation and
screechings of which was so alarming, not to mention the nasal twang,
that my niece had to run away to indulge in an obstreperous laugh, and
her senior companion had also much difficulty in refraining from the same
kind of expression of opinion. The Oriental system of church musical
notation is very complicated, having no stave-lines or bars, but only
certain arbitrary marks over the notes to designate high or low, plain or
flourishing.
Afterwards we inspected the church; then the refectory, and there they
showed us the desk at which one of the community reads to the rest at
meal time, triumphantly assuring me that they read the Bible, yet the two
books I found on the desk were, one the Apocryphal writings, the other
some homilies of St Basil, under whose rule the convent is constituted.
Next we walked over the roof, and looked at the great bell, and the gong;
the view, as might be expected, repaid the trouble. After this the
kitchen and the store-rooms.
On leaving the convent we proceeded to the nunnery in the neighbourhood.
The ladies visited the inmates, while I remained in an outer apartment
chatting with a priest, till a curtain was drawn aside, and there,
behold! were the lady-president and her flock, curious to see a consul,
and blaming the servants for not having admitted me together with my
companions.
The latter gave me afterwards as their opinion of the establishment, that
it very much resembled a comfortable asylum or almshouse for old women.
By this deviation from the high roads we lost the fairy view in that
neighbourhood which had charmed me so much in 1849.
There is a pleasing novelty to us non-Lebanonites in being in a native
Christian country. Every hill there has its convent, every convent its
bells; clergy are continually passing along the road; and on our descent
of the hill we met a nice old gentleman in clerical dress, with a very
white beard, holding a crimson umbrella over his head, (this is not
uncommon in Palestine,) and preceded by a kawwas with a silver-headed
official staff, also accompanied by a few peasants carrying guns,--this
was a Maronite bishop.
Crossed the river Barook at _Bisrah_, and ascended the usual highway
leading to Hhasbeya.
At the village of _Ineer_ we took further directions, and followed over a
very wild scene to nearly the summit of a mountain called
_Rummet-er-Room_, (the Ramah, or high-place, of the Greeks,) from which
the glorious landscape surpasses all power of description--it is one not
to be forgotten.
At _'Azoor_, a clean pleasant village, the women and girls ran in crowds
to gaze at my ladies; one of the women shouted "Bon soir" in good French,
and a man, accompanied by his wife, saluted us in Italian.
Rested in a beautiful wood of pines, though rather late for luncheon, as
the sun was falling below the western mountains. Rising higher on the
march we got into rolling misty clouds, and the brilliant effect of
sunbeams between the hills and clouds could not but be surprising. Our
clothes, however, got damp and chill.
At _Jezzeen_ our tents were found ready pitched in a grove of noble
walnut-trees, with the brook _Zaid_ running among them; near alongside
was a Maronite convent, with a bridge.
The muleteers having left us in the morning, lost their way, and had
taken the more precipitous road by _Dair Mushmushi_.
Here the people behaved with great hospitality to us.
The night was very cold, and in the morning the water for washing felt
like ice. The position of our encampment, as perceived by daylight, was
so low between hills that the sun could not reach us till the day should
be considerably advanced, yet we were at a very high altitude. Pity that
we had no aneroid barometer with us to ascertain the amount of our
elevation above the sea. The poplar-trees and walnut-trees, with fruit
trees of various kinds, showed we were in a totally different region from
that of Jerusalem.
Jezzeen is almost exclusively a Christian village, with a Greek Catholic
church, besides two Maronite churches, and the small convent mentioned
above.
There were clergy walking about; the people cleanly and well clothed, the
children modestly behaved, and even when rendering a service, not asking
for bakhsheesh.
At the time of our leaving, a party of women were wailing over a dead
body under a tree.
The scene gradually became more romantic; and we soon came to a village,
if such it may be denominated, where the only dwellings are dispersed
among vineyards. These vineyards were, at that autumn season, becoming
of a brown and golden tint.
After traversing the wondrous chaos referred to in the former journey, we
passed through the villages of _Cuf'r Hooneh_ and _Deheedeh_, adjoining
each other; where there was abundance of water, and oleander bushes
fringing the streamlets, with poplar and maple trees.
The rest of the journey had no remarkable difference from that of 1849,
except that on the brow of the great descent to the plain, between
Lebanon and the Anti-Lebanon, we rested beneath an olive-tree entwined
with honeysuckle, enraptured with the magnificence of the scene, which
would require a Milton to portray it in words, or a Martin in painting.
I observed that the prevailing tints of the whole great prospect were of
russet and ochreous colours.
Crossed the bridge, charmed with the beauteous verdure and freshening
rapid stream of the Leontes river; and when arrived at Hhasbeya, repaired
to the house of the native Protestant pastor, (Mr John Wartabed,) till a
house could be prepared for us.
Next morning some deputations of the religious sects of the town called
upon me; also the Ameer Saad ed Deen and his five sons in rich dresses;
and lastly, an old Druse who had distinguished himself as a friend of the
Protestant movement. Among all these, my visit there had a beneficial
effect upon the existence and progress of native Protestantism. In the
Lebanon the Druses have always favoured the missionaries, their schools
and their chapels, while the native Christian communities, under the
direction of their clergy, have naturally opposed them by every possible
means of the direst persecution. In proper time and place I may
hereafter have more to say respecting this visit to Hhasbeya.
In the afternoon, Mr Wartabed and the Khoja Bashi, (representative member
in the town-council,) of the Protestants, named Naseef er Reis, rode with
us to the source of the Hhasbani river, which ought to be regarded as the
origin of the Jordan, even though Banias lower down has been for ages
recognised as such. We saw the bubbles at their earliest birth issue
from the ground, and in a few yards this becomes a flowing stream.
Higher above this spot the bed of a torrent brings down water in rainy
seasons, adding to the springs of the Hhasbani, but this not being
permanent, cannot fairly be counted as having part or lot in the Jordan.
The ladies sat down to take sketches, and in haste I pencilled down in
short-hand--
O Jordan, dear Jordan, the feelings that throng
And press on the heart must awaken to song,
When the bubbles from pebbles break forth into view
As clear as the spangles of morn's early dew.
'Mid the poplars that rising surpass other trees,
And twinkle as moved by the scarce mountain breeze,
And the wild oleander in rose-colour'd bloom,
With trill of the linnet, and shrubs of perfume.
I have drunk from each source that advances a claim
To share with our Jordan its time-honour'd name;
Here now at Hhasbeya--and the old site of Dan;
Or the gush that escapes from the grotto of Pan.
How oft on far banks of its tortuous course,
In the scenes of repose or of cataract force,
Where the bulbul, 'mid willows and tamarisk shades,
Still warbles--
"Now, ladies, the horses are ready, and we have further to go," broke in
upon the muse of Lebanon. The day's work had to be finished, and time
was short; so we rode away to the bitumen pits in the neighbourhood of
Cocaba. These are not worked in warm weather, for the people are afraid
of the possible effects of their gas generated under a hot sun. One of
the pits is seventy ells, or cubits, deep, and the bitumen is reached
through a crust of chalky soil. The property is a government monopoly,
rented by natives, and the business is lazily and irregularly carried on;
therefore, sometimes the success is greater than at others. We found two
men living in a tent as guardians of the place, who were very civil to
us, and permitted us to carry away some specimens. These were all of a
very soft consistency; but at the bitumen works at four hours north of
Hhasbeya, the mineral is of a still softer description, almost liquid.
Next morning, the Kadi paid us a visit, accompanied by a merchant of
Damascus, a correspondent of an English house in India for indigo.
On Sunday we attended divine service at the native Protestant church,
which the people call the English church, and in virtue thereof have set
up a bell above it; because, although the mission is carried on by
American money and under the direction of American agents, the American
consuls are forbidden by their home-government from taking any steps in
behalf of their undertakings; and thus, but for the protection given them
by Mr Wood, British consul of Damascus, and his consular friends at
Bayroot, the American Mission, with all their schools and
printing-presses, would, upon all human calculation, have been crushed
long ago.
In conformity with Oriental usage, the congregation was divided according
to the sexes. In the old Eastern churches the women are placed in a
gallery above the men, but here the equality of the sexes was maintained
by their occupying the same floor, while separated from each other by a
wall built rather higher than the usual stature of a man; the pulpit
being equally visible from each division. A large jar of water stood in
the corner within the door, to which the men repaired occasionally, as
they felt thirsty. There were no chairs or benches, except such as were
brought from the house for our party, the congregation were sitting on
their heels, in which posture they sang the hymns, and remained so during
the prayer, only covering the face with the right hand; a few men,
however, stood up.
The singing (Arabic) was good, of course all in unison. The first hymn
was to the tune of our "Old Hundredth," the chapters read by the minister
were Ezek. xviii. and Rom. iii., and the text of the sermon was Ps.
lxxxix. 14, "Justice and judgment are the habitation of thy throne: mercy
and truth shall go before thy face." The style of language in the sermon
was that of good Arabic, but of simple, unpretending character, without
admixture of foreign words or phrases: this was insured by the
circumstance of the minister being a native of the country, though
originally belonging to the Armenian Church.
At the afternoon service the chapters read were Num. xxiii. and Heb.
xiii. The text for the sermon was Heb. xiii. 8, "Jesus Christ, the same
yesterday, to-day, and for ever," and the hymn was sung to a sweet
plaintive air of American origin.
Afterwards, that is after sunset, we spent some hours with the pastor's
family, who all understood English well. Mr Wartabed played the flute to
the hymn-singing, and his sister's voice was clear as a flageolet. The
evening was one of comfort and refreshment on both sides; it was one of a
Sabbath, "a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable," (Isa. lviii. 13.)
The poor Protestants have not always been in such satisfactory
circumstances. Their principal man had narratives to relate of chains
and imprisonment endured in past times from the present Ameer, whose
policy was now in their favour.
Next morning we left Hhasbeya, and I have not been there since. Little
could it be foreseen that in five years afterwards one indiscriminate
butchery would be made of the Ameer and his son, notwithstanding their
high descent of family and profession of Islam, together with all the
Christians of whatever sect in the town, driven like sheep within the
walls of his palace--a deed of treachery unexampled even in that period
of bloody Turkish treachery. Since then my lady companions are both in
their graves, the one at Jerusalem, the other at Bayroot, let me rather
say in "a better country," while I am left alone to narrate this in the
distant security of England.
On our way towards Banias we met a party of Druses returning from a small
lake beyond Hhooleh, carrying leeches in earthen jars and cotton bags
upon asses, they themselves walking. A green hill on our right was said
to be frequented by wild boars--all the rest of our scenery was bare and
stony.
A weli was a conspicuous object at some distance to the south, and near
to the Lake Hhooleh, which the Moslems name after "Judah the son of
Jacob." One of the Hhasbeya Protestants, who was with us, quoted in his
native Arabic "The sceptre shall not depart from Judah," etc.
At Tell el Kadi we reposed beneath the great tree near the gush of its
branch of the Jordan, the same tree (evergreen oak) as afforded us
shelter in 1849. Both this spring of the river and that of Banias are
far more striking objects than the humble source of the Hhasbani, into
which stream they run as affluents, making up the Jordan.
It was a beautiful evening of mellow sunlight, and the scene most
peaceful at the foot of Hermon.
On nearing Banias we were met by the son of the shaikh of the village,
sent out to invite us. It was harvest time of the Simsim, (Sesame,) and
the produce was very abundant; sheaves of it were piled up into large
stacks, and the length of the plant in stalk exceeded all I had ever seen
before,--a natural effect of growing on these well-watered plains.
There were also my old friends the myrtles scattered about among the
other trees.
At Banias our attendants had pitched the tents, to our disgust, near the
village, and with the stench of carrion not far off; much better places
might have been taken, but this was selected probably in consequence of
the invitation from the shaikh. Our short remainder of twilight was
employed in viewing the inscriptions and the grotto of Pan.
Next morning I was making fresh transcriptions of the Greek votive
dedications before the sun was up, so as to get them as accurately as
possible without sunshine and shadows. Then the same once more after
breakfast, with the sun full upon them. These, together with the copies
taken in 1849 by afternoon sunlight, and consequently the shadows thrown
in the reverse direction, ought to ensure for me a correct delineation,
saving and except those letters that are defaced by the action of weather
during fifteen centuries, or across which small cracks have been made by
the same cause.
The shaikh came to transact some business of consequence to him. Before
noon we resumed our journey; going due west through the Sesame harvest
and the myrtle trees to Tell el Kadi; straight across the plain through
marshes, frequent small streams, and large fields of rice, which they
said would be fit for reaping in twenty days more, that is, by the end of
October.
Crossed the Ghujar bridge, but did not as before turn off to Safed; our
object now was to reach Tibneen in the Belad Besharah, and therefore we
kept on due west, ascending up to the great crusading castle and the
village of _Huneen_, from which the look back upon Jebel esh Shaikh
(Hermon) was indescribably grand.
A little farther on, a glimpse was caught of the Mediterranean Sea! the
mountain breeze most delightful. Rested by the roadside for luncheon;
came to the village of _Hhooleh_, thence into lower valleys of green
woods, often with scarce room to pass ourselves, our horses, and the
luggage between branches of trees for some successive hours. Then under
the village of _Jahharah_, where were charcoal burners working at their
kilns.
The scene opened into verdant glades, alternated with woodland; the
breathing most pure as exhaled from trees upon firm dry ground,
contrasted with the noxious vapours from the marshes in the early
morning.
Flocks and shepherds appeared, and there was the sound of the axe busy in
the woods; not the ringing sound of the bright large English axe, this
being wanted in the stroke of the petty Oriental tools.
As evening drew on, and broad shadows fell from green hills across our
way, Tibneen Castle came nobly into view, and there a goodly reception
awaited us. A strange medley of splendour, with fleas and dust, obtained
throughout the establishment, and our ladies visited those of the
Hhareem, concerning whom they brought back no agreeable report.
We remained over two nights at Tibneen; the latter of which was,
throughout its whole duration, one of furious storm, rattling the wooden
lattices that served for windows; a storm not uncommon in the East, when
an adverse wind meets and drives back a strong shirocco. At daybreak the
first sound of the morning was that of a large trained hawk near the
window, chained to his perch, and screaming out his delight in the
bluster of the tempest. Mount Hermon appeared, not in his summer glow,
but in solemn majesty, defying the clouds and the winds that raged in
vain against his solid substance.
Our progress was thence towards Safed, which, however, we did not reach
in less than eleven hours and a half, instead of six, because of our
circuit made to see the antiquities of Kadis and Cuf'r Bera'am.
Turning off before Bint el Jebail, we came to _'Ain Atha_, and next to
_Aituran_. At Kadis (Kedesh Naphtali) I found that much of the principal
and beautiful temple had been lately despoiled by our late host of
Tibneen ('Ali Bek) for the ornamentation of his Hhareem or women's
apartments, and balconies or galleries. Then to _Yaroon_, near which was
still the ponderous sarcophagus upon a platform in the open country, and
likely to stay there for ages to come. It is too plain and devoid of
ornament or inscription for antiquarians from Europe to covet it, and to
remove it for no particular use would demand too much exertion from the
natives of the country. My groom, however, thought it might be useful as
a depository of barley in the stable!
We overtook a party of Safed people returning from the weekly market at
Bint el Jebail.
At Cuf'r Bera'am we inspected the ancient buildings now bearing Hebrew
inscriptions, and I was more than ever convinced in my own mind, that
neither these nor any edifices at Kadis have any relation to the Jewish
people, in their origin or intention. The Hebrew writing is of inferior
style, and very modern character, far, far unequal to the beauty of the
architecture; besides having evident traces of animal figures which have
been hastily chiselled off.
The sun set, and a bad road had to be traversed in order to reach our
destination at Safed.