_Strange Ceremonies._
IT HAS been long decreed that no poet may introduce the Phoenix. Scylla
and Charybdis are both successfully avoided even by provincial rhetoric.
The performance of Hamlet with the part of Hamlet omitted, and Mahomet’s
unhappy coffin, these are illustrations that have long been the
prerogative of dolts and dullards. It is not for a moment to be
tolerated that an oasis should be met with anywhere except in the
desert.
We sadly lack a new stock of public images. The current similes, if
not absolutely counterfeit, are quite worn out. They have no intrinsic
value, and serve only as counters to represent the absence of ideas.
The critics should really call them in. In the good old days, when the
superscription was fresh, and the mint mark bright upon the metal, we
should have compared the friendship of two young men to that of Damon
and Pythias. These were individuals then still well known in polite
society. If their examples have ceased to influence, it cannot
be pretended that the extinction of their authority has been the
consequence of competition. Our enlightened age has not produced them
any rivals.
Of all the differences between the ancients and ourselves, none more
striking than our respective ideas of friendship. Grecian friendship
was indeed so ethereal, that it is difficult to define its essential
qualities. They must be sought rather in the pages of Plato, or the
moral essays of Plutarch perhaps, and in some other books not quite
as well known, but not less interesting and curious. As for modern
friendship, it will be found in clubs. It is violent at a house
dinner, fervent in a cigar shop, full of devotion at a cricket or a
pigeon-match, or in the gathering of a steeple-chase. The nineteenth
century is not entirely sceptical on the head of friendship, but fears
‘tis rare. A man may have friends, but then, are they sincere ones?
Do not they abuse you behind your back, and blackball you at societies
where they have had the honour to propose you? It might philosophically
be suggested that it is more agreeable to be abused behind one’s back
than to one’s face; and, as for the second catastrophe, it should not be
forgotten that if the sincere friend may occasionally put a successful
veto on your election, he is always ready to propose you again.
Generally speaking, among sensible persons it would seem that a rich man
deems that friend a sincere one who does not want to borrow his money;
while, among the less favoured with fortune’s gifts, the sincere friend
is generally esteemed to be the individual who is ready to lend it.
As we must not compare Tancred and Fakredeen to Damon and Pythias,
and as we cannot easily find in Pall Mall or Park Lane a parallel more
modish, we must be content to say, that youth, sympathy, and occasion
combined to create between them that intimacy which each was prompt to
recognise as one of the principal sources of his happiness, and which
the young Emir, at any rate, was persuaded must be as lasting as it was
fervent and profound.
Fakredeen was seen to great advantage among his mountains. He was an
object of universal regard, and, anxious to maintain the repute of which
he was proud, and which was to be the basis of his future power,
it seemed that he was always in a gracious and engaging position.
Brilliant, sumptuous, and hospitable, always doing something kind, or
saying something that pleased, the Emirs and Sheikhs, both Maronite and
Druse, were proud of the princely scion of their greatest house, and
hastened to repair to Ca-nobia, where they were welcome to ride any of
his two hundred steeds, feast on his flocks, quaff his golden wine of
Lebanon, or smoke the delicate tobaccos of his celebrated slopes.
As for Tancred, his life was novel, interesting, and exciting. The
mountain breezes soon restored his habitual health; his wound entirely
healed; each day brought new scenes, new objects, new characters; and
there was ever at his side a captivating companion, who lent additional
interest to all he saw and heard by perpetually dwelling on the great
drama which they were preparing, and in which all these personages and
circumstances were to perform their part and advance their purpose.
At this moment Fakredeen proposed to himself two objects: the first was,
to bring together the principal chiefs of the mountain, both Maronite
and Druse, and virtually to carry into effect at Ca-nobia that
reconciliation between the two races which had been formally effected at
Beiroot, in the preceding month of June, by the diplomatic interference
of the Great Powers, and through the signature of certain articles of
peace to which we have alluded. His second object was to increase his
already considerable influence with these personages, by exhibiting
to them, as his guest and familiar friend, an English prince, whose
presence could only be accounted for by duties too grave for ordinary
envoys, and who was understood to represent, in their fullest sense, the
wealth and authority of the richest and most potent of nations.
The credulous air of Syria was favourable to the great mystification in
which Lord Montacute was an unconscious agent. It was as fully believed
in the mountain, by all the Habeishes and the Eldadahs, the Kazins and
the Elvasuds, the Elheires, and the Hai-dars, great Maronite families,
as well as by the Druse Djinblats and their rivals, the House of
Yezbeck, or the House of Talhook, or the House of Abuneked, that the
brother of the Queen of England was a guest at Canobia as it was in the
stony wilderness of Petrsea. Ahmet Raslan the Druse and Butros Kerauney
the Maronite, who agreed upon no other point, were resolved on this. And
was it wonderful, for Butros had already received privately two hundred
muskets since the arrival of Tancred, and Raslan had been promised in
confidence a slice of the impending English loan by Fakredeen?
The extraordinary attention, almost homage, which the Emir paid his
guest entirely authorised these convictions, although they could justify
no suspicion on the part of Tancred. The natural simplicity of his
manners, indeed, and his constitutional reserve, recoiled from the state
and ceremony with which he found himself frequently surrounded and too
often treated; but Fakredeen peremptorily stopped his remonstrances by
assuring him that it was the custom of the country, and that every one
present would be offended if a guest of distinction were not entertained
with this extreme respect. It is impossible to argue against the customs
of a country with which you are not acquainted, but coming home one
day from a hawking party, a large assembly of the most influential
chieftains, Fakredeen himself bounding on a Kochlani steed, and arrayed
in a dress that would have become Solyman the Magnificent, Tancred about
to dismount, the Lord of Canobia pushed forward, and, springing from his
saddle, insisted on holding the stirrup of Lord Montacute.
‘I cannot permit this,’ said Tancred, reddening, and keeping his seat.
‘If you do not, there is not a man here who will not take it as a
personal insult,’ said the Emir, speaking rapidly between his teeth,
yet affecting to smile. ‘It has been the custom of the mountain for more
than seven hundred years.’
‘Very strange,’ thought Tancred, as he complied and dismounted.
All Syria, from Gaza to the Euphrates, is feudal. The system, generally
prevalent, flourishes in the mountain region even with intenseness. An
attempt to destroy feudalism occasioned the revolt against the Egyptians
in 1840, and drove Mehemet Ali from the country which had cost him so
much blood and treasure. Every disorder that has subsequently occurred
in Syria since the Turkish restoration may be traced to some officious
interposition or hostile encroachment in this respect. The lands of
Lebanon are divided into fifteen Mookatas, or feudal provinces, and the
rights of the mookatadgis, or landlords, in these provinces, are power
of punishment not extending to death, service in war, and labour in
peace, and the collection of the imperial revenue from the population,
who are in fact their vassals, on which they receive a percentage from
the Porte. The administration of police, of the revenue, and indeed
the whole internal government of Lebanon, are in the hands of the
mookatadgis, or rather of the most powerful individuals of this class,
who bear the titles of Emirs and Sheikhs, some of whom are proprietors
to a very great extent, and many of whom, in point of race and antiquity
of established family, are superior to the aristocracy of Europe.
There is no doubt that the founders of this privileged and territorial
class, whatever may be the present creeds of its members, Moslemin,
Maronite, or Druse, were the old Arabian conquerors of Syria. The Turks,
conquerors in their turn, have succeeded in some degree in the plain to
the estates and immunities of the followers of the first caliphs; but
the Ottomans never substantially prevailed in the Highlands, and their
authority has been recognised mainly by management, and as a convenient
compromise amid the rivalries of so many local ambitions.
Always conspicuous among the great families of the Lebanon, during
the last century and a half preeminent, has been the House of Shehaab,
possessing entirely one of the provinces, and widely disseminated and
powerfully endowed in several of the others. Since the commencement of
the eighteenth century, the virtual sovereignty of the country has been
exercised by a prince of this family, under the title of Chief Emir. The
chiefs of all the different races have kissed the hand of a Shehaab; he
had the power of life and death, could proclaim war and confer honours.
Of all this family, none were so supreme as the Emir Bescheer, who
governed Lebanon during the Egyptian invasion, and to whose subdolous
career and its consequences we have already referred. When the Turks
triumphed in 1840, the Emir Bescheer was deposed, and with his sons sent
prisoner to Constantinople. The Porte, warned at that time by the too
easy invasion of Syria and the imminent peril which it had escaped,
wished itself to assume the government of Lebanon, and to garrison the
passes with its troops; but the Christian Powers would not consent to
this proposition, and therefore Kassim Shehaab was called to the Chief
Emirate. Acted upon by the patriarch of the Maronites, Kassim, who was a
Christian Shehaab, countenanced the attempts of his holiness to destroy
the feudal privileges of the Druse mookatadgis, while those of the
Maronites were to be retained. This produced the civil war of 1841
in Lebanon, which so perplexed and scandalised England, and which
was triumphantly appealed to by France as indubitable evidence of the
weakness and unpopularity of the Turks, and the fruitlessness of our
previous interference. The Turks had as little to do with it as M.
Guizot or Lord Palmerston; but so limited is our knowledge upon these
subjects that the cry was successful, and many who had warmly supported
the English minister during the previous year, and probably in equal
ignorance of the real merits of the question, began now to shake their
heads and fear that we had perhaps been too precipitate.
The Porte adroitly took advantage of the general anarchy to enforce
the expediency of its original proposition, to which the Great Powers,
however, would not assent. Kassim was deposed, after a reign of a few
months, amid burning villages and their slaughtered inhabitants; and, as
the Porte was resolved not to try another Shehaab, and the Great Powers
were resolved not to trust the Porte, diplomacy was obliged again to
interfere, and undertake to provide Lebanon with a government.
It was the interest of two parties, whose cooperation was highly
essential to the settlement of this question, to prevent the desired
adjustment, and these were the Turkish government and the family of
Shehaab and their numerous adherents. Anarchy was an argument in the
mouth of each, that the Lebanon must be governed by the Porte, or that
there never could be tranquillity without a Shehaab prince. The Porte in
general contented itself with being passive and watching the fray, while
the agents of the Great Powers planned and promulgated their scheme of
polity. The Shehaabs were more active, and their efforts were greatly
assisted by the European project which was announced.
The principal feature of this administrative design was the institution
of two governors of Lebanon, called Caimacams, one of whom was to be a
Maronite and govern the Maronites, and the other a Druse and govern his
fellow-countrymen. Superficially, this seemed fair enough, but
reduced into practice the machinery would not work. For instance, the
populations in many places were blended. Was a Druse Caimacam to govern
the Christians in his district? Was the government of the two Caimacams
to be sectarian or geographical? Should the Christian Caimacam govern
all the Christians, and the Druse Caimacam govern all the Druses of
the Lebanon? Or should the Christian Caimacam govern the Christian
Mook-atas, as well as such Druses as lived mixed with the Christians
in the Christian Mookatas, and the Druse Caimacam in the Druse country
exercise the same rights?
Hence arose the terms of mixed Druses and mixed Christians; mixed Druses
meaning Druses living in the Christian country, and mixed Christians
those living in the Druse country. Such was the origin of the mixed
population question, which entirely upset the project of Downing Street;
happy spot, where they draw up constitutions for Syria and treaties for
China with the same self-complacency and the same success!
Downing Street (1842) decided upon the sectarian government of the
Lebanon. It was simple, and probably satisfactory, to Exeter Hall;
but Downing Street was quite unaware, or had quite forgotten, that the
feudal system prevailed throughout Lebanon. The Christians in the Druse
districts were vassals of Druse lords. The direct rule of a Christian
Caimacam was an infringement on all the feudal rights of the Djinblats
and Yezbecks, of the Talhooks and the Abdel-Maleks. It would be equally
fatal to the feudal rights of the Christian chiefs, the Kazins and
the El-dadahs, the Elheires and the El Dahers, as regarded their Druse
tenantry, unless the impossible plan of the patriarch of the Maronites,
which had already produced a civil war, had been adopted. Diplomacy,
therefore, seemed on the point of at length succeeding in uniting the
whole population of Lebanon in one harmonious action, but unfortunately
against its own project.
The Shehaab party availed themselves of these circumstances with
great dexterity and vigour. The party was powerful. The whole of the
Maronites, a population of more than 150,000, were enrolled in their
ranks. The Emir Bescheer was of their faith; so was the unfortunate
Kassim. True, there were several Shehaab princes who were Moslemin, but
they might become Christians, and they were not Druses, at least only
two or three of them. The Maronite clergy exercised an unquestioned
influence over their flocks. It was powerfully organised: a patriarch,
numerous monasteries, nine prelates, and an active country priesthood.
Previously to the civil war of 1841, the feeling of the Druses had been
universally in favour of the Shehaabs. The peril in which feudalism
was placed revived their ancient sentiments. A Shehaab committee
was appointed, with perpetual sittings at Deir el Kamar, the most
considerable place in the Lebanon; and, although it was chiefly composed
of Christians, there were several Druses at least in correspondence with
it. But the most remarkable institution which occurred about this time
(1844) was that of ‘Young Syria.’ It flourishes: in every town and
village of Lebanon there is a band of youth who acknowledge the title,
and who profess nationality as their object, though, behind that plea,
the restoration of the House of Shehaab generally peeps out.
Downing Street, frightened, gave up sectarian diplomacy, and announced
the adoption of the geographical principle of government. The Druses,
now that their feudal privileges were secured, cooled in their ardour
for nationality. The Shehaabs, on the other hand, finding that the
Druses were not to be depended on, changed their note. ‘Is it to be
tolerated for a moment, that a Christian should be governed by a Druse?
Were it a Moslem, one might bear it; these things will happen; but a
Druse, who adores a golden calf, worshippers of Eblis! One might as well
be governed by a Jew.’
The Maronite patriarch sent 200,000 piastres to his children to buy
arms; the superior of the convent of Maashmooshi forwarded little
less, saying it was much better to spend their treasure in helping the
Christians than, in keeping it to be plundered by the Druses. Bishop
Tubia gave his bond for a round sum, but afterwards recalled it; Bishop
Joseph Djezini came into Sidon with his pockets full, and told the
people that a prince of the House of Shehaab would soon be at their
head, but explained on a subsequent occasion that he went thither merely
to distribute charity.
In this state of affairs, in May, 1845, the civil war broke out. The
Christians attacked the Druses in several districts on the same day. The
attack was unprovoked, and eventually unsuccessful. Twenty villages
were seen burning at the same time from Beiroot. The Druses repulsed
the Christians and punished them sharply; the Turkish troops, at the
instigation of the European authorities, marched into the mountain and
vigorously interfered. The Maronites did not show as much courage in the
field as in the standing committee at Deir el Kamar, but several of the
Shehaab princes who headed them, especially the Emir Kais, maintained
the reputation of their house and displayed a brilliant courage. The
Emir Fakre-deen was at Canobia at the time of the outbreak, which, as it
often happens, though not unpremeditated, was unexpected. He marched to
the scene of action at the head of his troops, and, when he found
that Kais had been outflanked and repulsed, that the Maronites were
disheartened in proportion to their previous vanity and insolence, and
that the Turkish forces had interfered, he assumed the character of
mediator. Taking advantage of the circumstances and the alarm of all
parties at the conjuncture and its yet unascertained consequences, he
obtained for the Maronites a long-promised indemnity from the Porte for
the ravages of the Druses in the civil war of 1841, which the Druses
had been unable to pay, on condition that they should accept the
geographical scheme of government; and, having signed, with other Emirs
and Sheikhs, the ten articles of peace, he departed, as we have seen, on
that visit to Jerusalem which exercised such control over the career
of Lord Monta-cute, and led to such strange results and such singular
adventures.