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.
INTRODUCTION
On the previous Conditions necessary for the Origin of a Chronology
among the Egyptians, and the Possibility of its Restoration.
PAGE