It was our unhappiness to have at this place a very violent storm of thunder and rain, which made our company too much in haste to make any longer stay here. By which misfortune I was prevented, to my great regret, from copying the inscription, and making such an exact scrutiny into this antiquity as it seemed very well to deserve. I hope some curious traveller or other will have better success in passing this way hereafter. The figures seemed to resemble mummies, and were perhaps the representation of some persons buried hereabout, whose sepulchres might probably also be discovered by the diligent observer.
The Antonine way extends about a quarter of an hour's travel. It is at present so broken and uneven, that to repair it would require no less labour than that wherewith it was at first made. After this pass you come upon a smooth sandy shore, which brings you in about one hour and a half to the river Beirout (for I could learn no other name it had). It is a large river, and has over it a stone bridge of six arches. On its other side is a plain field near the sea, which is said to be the stage on which St. George duelled and killed the dragon. In memory of this achievement there is a small chapel built upon the place, dedicated at first to that Christian hero, but now perverted to a mosque. From thence, in an hour, we arrived at Beirout, very wet by reason of the long and severe rain. However, we found here the shelter of a good khan by the sea-side, and there we took up our quarters. Our whole stage, this day, was about six hours and a half.
March 18.—The day following we spent at Beirout, being credibly informed that the river Damer, which lay in our next stage, was so swollen by the late rains that it would be impassable. This place was anciently called Berytus, from which the idol Baal-Berith is supposed to have had its name; and afterwards, being greatly esteemed by Augustus, had many privileges conferred upon it, and together with them a new name, viz. Julia Felix. But at present it retains nothing of its ancient felicity, except the situation, and in that particular it is indeed very happy. It is seated on the sea-side, in a soil fertile and delightful, raised only so high above the salt water as to be secure from its overflowings, and all other noxious and unwholesome effects of that element. It has the benefit of good fresh springs flowing down to it from the adjacent hills, and dispensed all over the city, in convenient and not unhandsome fountains. But, besides these advantages of its situation, it has at present nothing else to boast of.
The emir Faccardine had his chief residence in this place. He was in the reign of sultan Morat, the fourth emir, or prince of the Druses, a people supposed to have descended from some dispersed remainder of those Christian armies that engaged in the crusades for the recovery of the Holy Land[540], who afterwards being totally routed, and despairing of a return to their native country again, betook themselves to the mountains hereabout, in which their descendants have continued ever since. Faccardine, being (as I said) prince of these people, was not contented to be penned up in the mountains, but by his power and artifice enlarged his dominions down into the sea-coast, as far from this place to Acre. At last the Grand Seignior, growing jealous of such a growing power, drove the wild beast back again to the mountains from whence he had broke loose; and there his posterity retain their principality to this day.
We went to view the palace of this prince, which stands on the north-east part of the city. At the entrance of it is a marble fountain, of greater beauty than is usually seen in Turkey. The palace within consists of several courts, all now run much to ruin, or rather perhaps never finished. The stables, yards for horses, dens for lions and other savage creatures, gardens, &c., are such as would not be unworthy of the quality of a prince in Christendom, were they wrought up to that perfection of which they are capable, and to which they seem to have been designed by their first contriver.
But the best sight that this palace affords, and the most worthy to be remembered, is the orange garden. It contains a large quadrangular plot of ground, divided into sixteen lesser squares, four in a row, with walks between them. The walks are shaded with orange-trees, of a large spreading size, and all of so fine a growth both for stem and head, that one cannot imagine any thing more perfect of this kind. They were, at the time when we were there, as it were gilded with fruit, hanging thicker upon them than ever I saw apples in England. Every one of these sixteen lesser squares in the garden was bordered with stone, and in the stonework were troughs very artificially contrived, for conveying the water all over the garden, there being little outlets cut at every tree, for the stream, as it passed by, to flow out and water it. Were this place under the cultivation of an English gardener, it is impossible any thing could be made more delightful. But these Hesperides were put to no better use, when we saw them, than to serve as a fold for sheep and goats, insomuch that in many places they were up to the knees in dirt. So little sense have the Turks of such refined delights as these, being a people generally of the grossest apprehension, and knowing few other pleasures but such sensualities as are equally common both to man and beast. On the east side of this garden were two terrace-walks, rising one above the other, each of them having an ascent to it of twelve steps. They had both several fine spreading orange-trees upon them, to make shades in proper places. And at the north end they led into booths, and summer-houses, and other apartments, very delightful; this place being designed by Faccardine for the chief seat of his pleasure.
It may perhaps be wondered how this emir should be able to contrive any thing so elegant and regular as this garden, seeing the Turkish gardens are usually nothing else but a confused miscellany of trees jumbled together, without either knots, walks, arbours, or any thing of art or design, so that they seem like thickets rather than gardens. But Faccardine had been in Italy, where he had seen things of another nature, and knew well how to copy them in his own country; for indeed it appears, by these remains of him, that he must needs have been a man much above the ordinary level of a Turkish genius.
In another garden we saw several pedestals for statues, from whence it may be inferred that this emir was no very zealous Mohammedan. At one corner of the same garden stood a tower of about sixty feet high, designed to have been carried to a much greater elevation for a watch-tower, and for that end built with an extraordinary strength, its walls being twelve feet thick. From this tower we had a view of the whole city. Amongst other prospects, it yielded us the sight of a large Christian church, said to have been at first consecrated to St. John the Evangelist; but, it being now usurped by the Turks for their chief mosque, we could not be permitted to see it, otherwise than at this distance. Another church there is in the town, which seems to be ancient; but, being a very mean fabric, it is suffered to remain still in the hands of the Greeks. We found it adorned with abundance of old pictures. Amongst the rest I saw one with this little inscription, Κούαρτος πρῶτος Αρχιεπίσκοπος Βηρούτου; and just by it was the figure of Nestorius, who commonly makes one amongst the saints painted in the Greek churches, though they do not now profess, nor, I believe, so much as know his heresy. But that which appeared most observable was a very odd figure of a saint, drawn at full length, with a large beard reaching down to his feet. The curate gave us to understand that this was St. Nicephorus; and, perceiving that his beard was the chief object of our admiration, he gratified us with the following relation concerning him; viz., That he was a person of the most eminent virtue in his time; but his great misfortune was, that the endowments of his mind were not set off with the outward ornament of a beard. Upon occasion of which defect he fell into a deep melancholy. The devil, taking advantage of this priest, promised to give him that boon which nature had denied, in case he would comply with his suggestion. The beardless saint, though he was very desirous of the reward proposed, yet he would not purchase it at that rate neither, but rejected the previous bribe with indignation, declaring resolutely that he had rather for ever despair of his wish than obtain it upon such terms; and, at the same time, taking in hand the downy tuft upon his chin, to witness the stability of his resolution (for he had, it seems, beard enough to swear by), behold! as a reward for his constancy, he found the hair immediately stretch with the pluck that he gave it. Whereupon, finding it in so good a humour, he followed the happy omen; and, as young heirs that have been niggardly bred, generally turn prodigals when they come to their estates, so he never desisted from pulling his beard till he had drawn it down to his feet. But enough both of the beard and the story. At the east end of Beirout are to be seen seven or eight beautiful pillars of granite, each ... feet long, and three in diameter. And over another gate, not far distant, we found on a piece of marble the following inscription: Τῆς τοῦ προσίοντος ἀνδρὸς ἐννοίας αἰεὶ σαφὴς ἔληγχος, ἡ πρόσοψις γείνεται δίδου προθυμῶς ὅ παρέχεις ἤ μὴ δίδου παρὰ γὰρ τὸ μειχρὸν γείνεται πτήρης χάρις. It was probably at first an altar inscription, relating to the offertory in the holy communion, for its sense seems to look that way, and it is well known that the comers to the blessed sacrament were called by the ancients by the peculiar name of οἳ προσίοντες, as Valesius proves out of St. Chrysostom[541].
On the south side the town wall is still entire, but built out of the ruins of the old city, as appears by pieces of pillars and marble which help to build it. On one piece of marble table we saw these remaining letters of a Latin inscription:—
.... VG. ETIA ....
.... XI CUM ....
.... VS PHOEBUS ....
All the rest being purposely erased.