We remained the first night after our departure in Sûk el Bárada, at the foot of Nebbi Habîl. From thence we went again over the ancient arched bridge, which, as well as most of the buildings of this country, were built by the Empress Helena; and this time we examined more nearly the tombs in the rocks, to which we had to arrive by a very difficult path, through an old aqueduct hewn out of the rock. Some of these tombs were singularly planned and appeared to be very ancient; further on, followed several of the Greek period, with bas-reliefs and gables, and some steles in the rock, on which we could still decypher some Greek words. From here, not far up the river, we found an immense Roman work, the great old (though now forsaken) road, hewn for a considerable distance out of the solid rock. On the flat, high, side-wall were two Roman inscriptions, each in duplicate. The longest ran thus:—
IMPerator CAESar Marcus AVRELius ANTONINVS | AVGustus ARMENIACVS ET IMPerator CAESar Lucius AVRELius VERVS AVGustus AR | MENIACVS VIAM FLVMINIS | VI ABRVPTAM INTERCISO | MONTE RESTIVERVNT PER | IVIium VERVM LEGatum PRo PRaetore PROVINCiæ | SYRiae ET AMICVM SVVM | IMPENDIIS ABILENORVM. The other was:—PRO SALVTE IMPeratoris AUGusti ANTONI | NI ET VERI Marcus VO | LVSIVS MAXIMVS (centurio) LEGionis XVI. Flavin Firmae QVI OPERI | IN STITIT Voto Suscepto.[155] Since then the rock has been, without doubt, undermined and broken up for the second time by the current, (probably very violent in the spring-time of the year,) as close by the second copy of the two inscriptions, the rock-road breaks off into a steep. Towards four o’clock we had ascended the Antilibanon, and we then again went to Nebbi Shît, which is Seth, in the great plain of the Leontes. We immediately went to search for the tomb of Nebbi Shît, and were not a little astonished at finding here, as well as at Nebbi Noëh, a solid ancient Ambian building, with a small cupola adjoining, and within a grave forty ells long. It was wider than that of Noah, because on both sides along the whole length of the grave three steps led up to the height of the tomb, which were wanting in the other. It is quite apparent that tradition, by giving such an uncommon measure to the bodies of these two patriarchs, intended to represent them as antediluvian men; and the number forty, which is so frequently used both in the Old and New Testament as an indefinite holy number, has, as is seen here, not lost this signification among the Arabians.
The same evening we rode two hours further, to Britân, and arrived before sunrise next morning, at Bâlbek, the ancient Heliopolis, with its famous ruins of the temple of the sun. I stopped next by the old stone bridge, by which the road passed, and measured there a building block, which was not quite loosened from the rock, of 67 feet in length, 14 feet in breadth, and 13 feet 5 inches thick. Of such blocks, or of somewhat smaller ones, consist several walls of the ruins of the temple and Bâlbek. A block that I measured on the spot, and in its place, without particularly choosing it, was 65 feet 4 inches, by 12 feet 3 inches, and 9 feet 9 inches. The ruins are, in fact, immense; the style of the architecture, in all its ornamental parts, is however heavy, overloaded, and partly of a very barbarous taste.
To Bâlbek there hangs a very sad recollection. As I approached the straggling houses of the village, which is very near the ruins of the ancient temple, my faithful servant, Ibrahim, who had arrived here before us, came to meet me with the joyful intelligence, that Abeken, from whom we had separated in Jerusalem, had just reached the village. I found him, indeed, in the next house to the worthy bishop, Athanasins; hardly, however, had we greeted each other, when they came to tell me that Ibrahim was dying outside in the street. I found him almost on the same spot where he had met me in so friendly a manner, stretched out, the death-rattle in his throat, and his eyes already fixed. A priest, from the next convent, endeavoured to assist him, but in vain; he died in a few minutes before my eyes. A fever produced by being exposed to the weather, seemed to have given him his death-blow. He was a man of sterling worth, and an inborn noble nature, such as is not often found among the Arabs. I had taken him with me, in my journey to Nubia, from Assuan; he desired, from his own impulse and attachment, to accompany me to Europe, and would have been exceedingly useful to me in my labours on the Sudan languages, on account of his knowledge of the Nubian dialects. I wished to place a stone over the spot where he was buried, at the foot of Antilibanon, on the slope of the hill near a tree; but no stone-mason could be found. For this reason I sent one from Berut, with this inscription:—IBRAHIMO HASSAN SYENE ORIVNDO SERVO BENE MERENTI P.R. LEPSIVS. D. XXI. NOVEMB. MDCCCXLV.
This news made a deep impression upon Gabre Mariam, when I told it him at Berut; he wept bitterly, for they had been very good friends.
Before we left Bâlbek, the bishop advised us to take another road than that which we had intended to take, as the news had come that the other side of Libanon was in a very disturbed state, and that the population was in insurrection. However, as the whole country was in commotion, and as we had never met with any difficulty on that account, we cared but little about it, and remarked to him that we were only going through the Christian districts, whose inhabitants would be friendly to us. We quitted Bâlbek a little before sunset, and crossed the narrow plain, in order to pass the night in Dêr el Ahmar, the “red convent,” and the next day, with renewed strength, to ascend Libanon almost to its highest point. During our whole journey through Palestine and Syria, we had, till now, been favoured with the most beautiful weather. From day to day, according to the calculations of other seasons, we might expect continued rains, and, nevertheless, we had only once been wet through, on our return from the Dead Sea to Jerusalem. The broad plain, Begâa, which we crossed now a second time, is after the rains, at this season, not passable; and the numerous mountain-streams of the well-watered Libanon, are generally so swollen, that, on account of the want of bridges, they can only be crossed with great danger. This evening the sky was clouded over, in a threatening manner, the darkness of the night was impenetrable, and at last, when we had just perceived some lights in the distance, at Dêr el Ahmar, we lost our way upon a desert, full of clefts, and the ground broken and rough. At last hardly were we arrived when a heavy rain poured down. We shared again a large room with a whole Christian peasant family, and passed one of the most unquiet of nights.
Among the women and children, who appeared to be ill, there was a constant groaning and fretting. In a short time the continued rain penetrated the roof and dropped upon the beds; persons were sent up to heap fresh sand upon it, and to roll it with heavy pieces of stone pillars, (kept upon every house ready for this purpose,) which, however, sent so much lime and dirt down upon us, that we were obliged to beg that the operation might be discontinued. In a little shed near the door, lay a dog with a numerous progeny, whose bed must have also been wet, as they began to whine and yelp most piteously. Finally, our host was with repeated and much noise knocked up, in order to procure a horse for a soldier, who was carrying letters on further in haste for the Pasha. Consequently, during the whole night we could gain no rest; and if the Arabian proverb says, that the king of the fleas holds his court in the holy city of the Jews, I have every reason to suppose that he has removed his residence from there (where we laid comfortably) to this place.
Towards morning the rain had ceased, and had turned into a thick fog, which forming together into thick clouds, appeared sometimes to be cut by the prominent mountains of the lofty Libanon, and sometimes with its phantom-like play, with the light of the morning sun occasionally breaking through upon the nearer and farther woody hills and mountain-tops, perfectly delighted us. When we came to the first height, which is divided from the principal chain by a shallow valley, we had suddenly an indescribably beautiful and astonishing view over the whole of the mountain range of Libanon, which rose up before us, its whole length and down a considerable distance, covered with fresh shining snow; a true Alpine country in its most magnificent features, which towers majestically over this land blessed with eternal spring, but now so shamefully oppressed by its Turkish enemies. I enjoyed most fully this uncommon sight, which aroused in my heart a true native joy, and I tried to retain within me this clear pure light. Before me I drove my little Egyptian horse, who had lost his rider at Bâlbek, and who carried on his back the small possessions he had left; I thought then, how I had rejoiced a few days before, at the idea of the good Ibrahim’s astonishment, when he should traverse with us the snowy region of Libanon. The ass did not appear to be much pleased with the snow-heaps that we had to ride through; he often stood quite astonished in the middle of the snow, and no doubt took it all for salt, the white soft fields of which he had already known by the Red Sea and elsewhere. We rode zigzag along the immensely steep precipice seven to eight thousand feet high, which is here not rocky, but covered with earth, and terminates in a sharp brow. “El hamdu l’illah!” cried the old guide, when we had reached the top; and, “Salâm, salâm,” sounded in chorus. We had reached almost the highest point of Libanon, but the view over land and sea was unfortunately hidden from us by clouds and fog, although the blue sky was above our heads. After a short ride down from the top, our guide showed us at our feet, in a large level inlet of the mountains, the ancient and renowned forest of cedars, out of which King Hiram sent the great stems to Solomon to build the temple; it appeared from above as small as a garden. It had been considered for a length of time as the remains of this forest, till, in later times, in a northern part of Libanon, other forests of cedars have been discovered. We soon lost sight of the cedars as we descended lower into the clouds, which cut off all view from us. Suddenly the dark shadows of these giant trees appeared in close rows before us, out of the great masses of fog, like spirits of the mountains. We rode to the chapel of the hermit, who has usually a good glass of Libanon wine to put before a stranger, but we found it shut up; just then the clouds broke into a regular straight-down rain, from which the needle-like roofs of the proud cedars afforded us but little shelter. I found a cedar-apple hanging low enough for me to break off, and to carry with me as a token of remembrance. Some of these stems are forty feet in circumference, and ninety feet high; and as it is supposed that a cedar of a hundred years old will only be half a foot in diameter, so must these be reckoned three thousand years old, which would reach back to the time of Solomon. The rain increased, and we had yet several thousand feet to descend to the nearest village, Bsherreh. The lower we came, the more slippery and dangerous became the narrow, sometimes rocky, sometimes soft, footway, which leads along the steep precipice over a yawning abyss down to the right. At a bend in a corner of a rock, we at last caught sight of our desired night-quarters, the rich, pleasant, and large village of Bsherreh, which gives its name to the whole district, and is well known on account of its strong and influential, but wild and ungovernable, and often cruel inhabitants.
The rain had abated; the white houses with their flat roofs, the number of silver poplars, plane-trees, and cedars, which rose up among them either singly or in rows, formed one above another a semi-circle on a hill projecting from the right hand precipice, and appeared, as they shone with the rain-drops, as if they were just out of a fresh bath. Nothing was moving in the village; it appeared as if everything was dead in it; I rode on along a narrow path by the wall of a vineyard, with our old guide, before the rest. Suddenly, at a bend of the road, a strong voice called to us, and as I looked over the vineyard-terrace, of about the height of a man, I saw to my great surprise, twenty guns pointed towards me and the guide. The guide let the bridle of his horse fall, and raised his hands towards heaven, and cried out to the people. I immediately threw back the hood of my cloak, to show the people my European hat, and to prove to them who we were. When they saw that there were but few of us, and that we made no attempt to defend ourselves, they came in hundreds from behind the trees, surrounded us, and for a long time would not believe that we were not disguised soldiers. Some threw sticks down upon our horses from the terraces, while I was endeavouring to explain who we were to those nearest to me. Others understood the mistake sooner, and came down to the street, and took hold of the bridle of my horse. At last, a boy of about fourteen, with a frank countenance, a beautiful forehead, and red fresh cheeks, pressed through the crowd, and called out in Italian that we should not fear, it was all a mistake, we were their friends, and we had only to ride and dismount at his brother’s house. Some violent people accompanied us still, and cried out to us from the walls with the most angry gestures; while the great crowd were already satisfied, and raised a deafening shout of joy, fired their guns into the air, and led us in triumph to the village.
In Bsherreh, which contains from 1,200 to 1,500 inhabitants, all were on foot; they pressed and pushed each other, in order to kiss our hands or clothes. The women began their piercing cries; clapped their hands, and danced; my brave boy remained still by my side, and so, at last, we got step by step through the thick crowd, who now saluted us as friends, and reached the house of the sheikh, of whom my guide was a younger brother. We were led up the stone steps, across the hall, into the roomy chamber where we were to lodge.