The Thistle and the Cedar of Lebanon

by Habeeb Risk Allah

After I had been there a few days, the news of it

reached the governor, and he immediately sent two cawass to arrest me; but the servant of my friend, having received information that I was being pursued, hid me in the harem apartments, which are accessible to none but the head of the family, a priest, or a physician; here I was secreted, and on their arrival, they even sent in a priest to the harem to ascertain if I was there; but the vigilance of my protectors evaded them even in this, and I was let down from the window in a basket into the garden, from whence I escaped to a cave close by till midnight; I then made my way back to my relations, who told me of the close search the cawass had made, and the disappointment they experienced at not finding me.

A few days after this an English traveller passed through the place, and understanding a little of his language, I offered my services to accompany him to Beyrout, under the title of turjaman; and according to the laws of Turkey, I no sooner joined him than I was under British protection. By this means I reached Beyrout in safety; and finding that the Capitan Pasha had gone to Acre, I joined the English forces, and then, for the first time in my life, witnessed the consummate skill and accuracy with which the troops carried on the warfare.

Nothing could have been more ingenious than the plan of attack. The Turkish troops, arriving in steamers and vessels of war, were during the night, with the utmost precaution, transhipped to the British vessel; and next morning, those vessels, supposed by the forces on shore to carry troops, were towed down by the “Geyser” and other steamers towards Ras-Beyrout, which occasioned the whole of the Egyptian forces to evacuate the town, and take up a strong position in that

neighbourhood. When the steamers perceived this, they altered their course and proceeded to Dog River. Here a few Albanians had been stationed to oppose them. These were mown down by the heavy batteries of the frigates, who landed their troops and took unmolested possession of the place. Soon after they were joined by Beschir Kasir, with a body of men from the mountains, whom the English commandant supplied with arms, etc. And thus the victory was won.

I remained with the army several weeks, and assisted in the operations against the Egyptians; and after the conclusion of peace, accompanied an English officer and a numerous body of attendants to Tripoli, or as we call it, Trablous, the beautiful orange garden of the world. People talk so much about St. Michael oranges; for my part, I have never seen any orange in the world whose flavour and scent could equal that of Trablous; besides which, they are so plentiful and cheap, that although all the sea-coasts, and the interior of Syria and Palestine, and even parts of Asia Minor, are supplied with boat-loads and camel-loads of oranges from Tripoli, there is still abundance left to cause them to be a cheap as well as a delicious luxury. Our duty here, as elsewhere, was to see that the people of the place and the neighbourhood were well governed—to hear complaints and bring them in a proper form before the local authorities, to the end that injured parties might obtain redress—and to enquire into and make notes of everything that occurred.

The natives had christened my friend “Abu Rish,” which being literally translated, means “the father of a feather”; they gave him this name because he always sported a large feather in his cocked hat, which was seldom set aside in his journeyings. I have no doubt

but that many of the ignorant and half wild natives of some of the villages that we passed through looked upon this hat and feathers in something the same light as the native of the savage island regarded that of Captain Cook, considering it to be a very strangely formed head, an abnormal amalgamation of the cock with the man.

We were lodged at Tripoli, with the Signor Catsoflis, the British vice-consul, at whose house we experienced much hospitality. Signor Catsoflis and his brother, the Austrian vice-consul, are twins; and so strong is the resemblance between them, that it is barely possible for a stranger to distinguish the one from the other when apart. The wife of Signor Catsoflis, the Austrian vice-consul, is the sister of Signor Elias, the vice consul at Lattakia. I never before, or since, have set eyes on any woman that could rival her in beauty, and her disposition was as sweet as her face was lovely. This lady made a complaint to me on behalf of a fellow Christian, a poor peasant from the mountains, who accustomed to rove about free, and in such dress as his fancy dictated, amongst his own villagers, unwittingly made his appearance in the streets of Tripoli, dressed in a light robe of a greenish colour, which excited the wrath and indignation of some fanatics, who, saying that none but descendants from the prophet could be permitted to wear any colour approaching to green, tore the garment from the poor fellow’s back, beat and otherwise shamefully ill-treated him; this was the instance of the complaint. “And now,” said the fair advocate, addressing herself to me, “let me see if you and your friend are really possessed of such influence and authority as you vaunt yourselves of, by causing the wrongs of this poor unoffending man to be redressed.” If anything could

have spurred me to the deed, it was certainly being thus taunted by one of the handsomest women in the world. I immediately agreed to comply with her wishes, and, girding on my sword, took the Cawass, and proceeded direct to Yusuf Pasha. Before going, however, I had donned a pair of Wellington boots that a European friend had lent me; and the brilliant emerald green of whose tops must have inspired the gaping Moslems in the streets with the utmost envy and rage.