Chapter XII.

Baalbec and Lebanon.

Departure from Damascus—­The Fountains of the Pharpar—­Pass of the Anti-Lebanon—­Adventure with the Druses—­The Range of Lebanon—­The Demon of Hasheesh departs—­Impressions of Baalbec—­The Temple of the Sun—­Titanic Masonry—­The Ruined Mosque—­Camp on Lebanon—­Rascality of the Guide—­The Summit of Lebanon—­The Sacred Cedars—­The Christians of Lebanon—­An Afternoon in Eden—­Rugged Travel—­We Reach the Coast—­Return to Beyrout.

  “Peor and Baaelim
  Forsake their temples dim.”

  Milton.

  “The cedars wave on Lebanon,
  But Judah’s statelier maids are gone.”

  Byron.

Beyrout, Thursday, May 27, 1852.

After a stay of eight days in Damascus, we called our men, Dervish and Mustapha, again into requisition, loaded our enthusiastic mules, and mounted our despairing horses.  There were two other parties on the way to Baalbec—­an English gentleman and lady, and a solitary Englishman, so that our united forces made an imposing caravan.  There is always a custom-house examination, not on entering, but on issuing from an Oriental city, but travellers can avoid it by procuring the company of a Consular Janissary as far as the gate.  Mr. Wood, the British Consul, lent us one of his officers for the occasion, whom we found waiting, outside of the wall, to receive his private fee for the service.  We mounted the long, barren hill west of the plain, and at the summit, near the tomb of a Moslem shekh, turned to take a last long look at the bowery plain, and the minarets of the city, glittering through the blue morning vapor.

A few paces further on the rocky road, a different scene presented itself to us.  There lay, to the westward, a long stretch of naked yellow mountains, basking in the hot glare of the sun, and through the centre, deep down in the heart of the arid landscape, a winding line of living green showed the course of the Barrada.  We followed the river, until the path reached an impassable gorge, which occasioned a detour of two or three hours.  We then descended to the bed of the dell, where the vegetation, owing to the radiated heat from the mountains and the fertilizing stimulus of the water below, was even richer than on the plain of Damascus.  The trees were plethoric with an overplus of life.  The boughs of the mulberries were weighed down with the burden of the leaves; pomegranates were in a violent eruption of blossoms; and the foliage of the fig and poplar was of so deep a hue that it shone black in the sun.