Letters from Palestine / Written during a residence there in the years 1836, 7 and 8

by J. D. Paxton

We had intended to take up our quarters among the ruins, but finding so many soldiers near, we did not deem it prudent. We therefore applied to the Latin convent, but on pretence of being full they did not admit us. An offer was made us of a room in a house near the convent, but on examination it was so close, dark, and filthy, that we preferred taking up our lodgings on the top of the house. There we spread our carpets and spent two nights; we found it a very pleasant place. It was cool and pleasant, and no dew fell worth mentioning. The only inconvenience we experienced was, in dressing we were exposed to the gaze of all those who felt a wish to see how the Franks put on their clothes, shave their beards, and do those other things that are usually done in one's chamber.

Our route from Baalbec was to the far-famed cedars. They grow on the Lebanon, and on the side next the sea. Our road was directly across the plain, as the cedars are nearly opposite Baalbec. It took us about two hours and a half to cross the plain. This, at the usual mode of counting, would make it nearly eight miles wide. We found scarcely any water in the plain; there was indeed a small dry channel, and not far from it a slight trace of water, which was led along so as to water some districts; the quantity was small, and must soon have been exhausted. The noble body of water which came from the set of springs near Baalbec was separated near those ruins: one part was carried to one side, and the remainder to the other; a considerable district through which they flowed was rich with verdure. A pretty line of trees marked for a mile or two the tract of the plain through which the water passed, but at the end of a few miles they appeared to be exhausted. As the trees and richness of verdure ceased, the plain below assumed its dry and parched aspect. In these sunny plains the exhaustion of water must be very great; and I now the less marvel to find lakes which have no outlets, and rivers which are lost in the sand. They become exhausted.

When we had nearly reached the foot of the Lebanon, we saw a large solitary pillar standing in the plain. We saw no ruins near it. We were told by a peasant that it was just like the pillars in Baalbec, but what it was doing there alone he was unable to tell.

The ascent of Mount Lebanon was a most toilsome matter. We had to cross over one of the highest points of the mountain. There is another way which is more easy, but farther; we preferred crossing the highest place, as we might not cross here again, and wished to see the mountain in all its majesty. The first ridge which we ascended had more natural growth on it than any district I have seen in this country. It was pretty well covered with shrubs and low trees—most of them oak. The tops of most of the large ones had been cut off, I suppose for fuel. They appear to pursue a plan here, much followed in some parts of France, Savoy, and Italy, of cutting off the tops of the trees for fuel; and when the branches which shoot out have grown to the thickness of a man's arm, they are again cut off for the same purpose, and the same course still followed.

The rock on this ridge was wholly limestone. As we approached the top of it, and near the foot of the main ridge, the rock was very soft and much broken from the action of the air upon it. This continued to be the character of the rock over most of the main ridge. In some parts it was broken very fine and formed beds of loose rock; in which our mules sunk as if it were a bed of sand. A little up the side of the main ridge rose a beautiful spring of clear water, which served to produce verdure over a small district below. There were a few trees and shrubs scattered over the ridge almost to its summit; but in these upper parts they were few and small, and far between. I saw a few stunted cedars among them. As we approached the top, we passed through several large banks of snow. The face of the mountain was not generally covered with it, but it lay in large masses or spots where, from some cause, the wind had thrown much of it together. Streams of water flowed from them. When on the top we had satisfactory evidence that we were on one of the highest points of Lebanon. The ridge was narrow at this part of the mountain; there was no snow on the very summit, nor was there much on the north-west side—much less than on the south-east, and much less on either than on the Sun-neen, when I was there five weeks ago. The entire upper region was destitute of vegetation, not a bush to be seen, and but a small sample even of the thistle, which of all other plants appears the most tenacious of spreading itself everywhere.

From this eminence we had a most extensive view to the west—the long, irregular slope of the mountain to the sea—the narrow plain along the coast—and the wide-spread Mediterranean, till where the heavens appeared to come down and fence in the waters. But the object which among the first was sought for, was the cedars—the far-famed cedars of Lebanon! where could they be?

The Lebanon, at this place, makes on the side next the sea a considerable bend, having the concave part next the sea. We stood opposite the deep and wide hollow that comes up from Tripoli, and down which flows a stream, the head springs of which rose far below our feet. The mountain, both to our right and left, threw out high and long ridges towards the sea. We had a steep descent before us of, I should think, at least two thousand feet; on the sides of which not a bush was to be seen. Then, there was a small level in which several springs of water took their rise; and from the lower side of this level another deep and rough hollow opened, with stupendous precipices on its sides. Below this, and along the sides, we saw trees and a considerable village. Near the middle of the little plain, at the foot of the steep descent below us, we saw a clump of trees, but they looked too few or too small for the cedars. They resembled a small orchard of evergreens. We found, however, on reaching the plain, that they were the cedars we sought. They stand in irregular groups, spread over several little stony knolls, and may possibly cover eight or ten acres of ground. They are not what with us is called the cedar, but a variety of the pine. It is a resinous tree bearing a cone. The wood is of a white pine-like appearance. We spread our carpets, and spent the night under one of the father-trees of this grove.

It is not easy to decide how many old trees there are; eight or ten have a more venerable appearance than the remainder; still others approach them so nearly in size and marks of age, that it is difficult to say why one should be called old and the other young. I once thought of counting the grove, but from the irregularity of the ground, and the situation of the trees, this was no easy matter—especially for a man who had crossed the Lebanon the same day. I counted, however, a small section, and am disposed to think that there may be from 300 to 500 trees that are more than a foot in diameter—possibly 150 that may be above two feet—and about 50 or 60 that may be from three to four feet in diameter. A few we measured; the largest was 39 feet in circumference—one 32—one 29—one 28, and one 23: these may serve as a sample. Most of the large ones forked near the ground, and were rather assemblages of trees from the same root than a single tree. Those of the third size had some of them fine, straight bodies, and ran up to a considerable height. We procured some specimens of the wood, and a sample of the cones, and then bid adieu to this much-talked-of grove.

It is pretty certain that this grove did not furnish wood for Solomon. It lies opposite Tripoli, which is two days north of Beyroot, and Beyroot is north of Tyre and Sidon. It lies up far from the sea, and has a piece of country between it and the sea, as rough as can well be found anywhere. The grove does not appear to be diminishing, but rather increasing. I saw no stumps of fallen trees, and young ones are springing up. There is a kind of religious reverence for these trees among the neighbouring villagers. They have a singular appearance standing alone in the midst of a small plain on which no other trees grow, with no other trees above them, nor for a considerable space below. Another singular fact is, that there is no water running among them. There is a stream on the side of the plain, but it comes not near them. The ground appears enriched with the leaves that fall from them, and looks precisely as the soil usually does in a pine grove.

Leaving the cedars, we passed down the valley; a most rough and steep descent. We passed a village well watered, surrounded with mulberry, poplar, willow and fruit trees of various kinds. The state of cultivation on both sides of the valley, for some distance down, was much better than I have usually seen in these mountains. Several villages were in sight.