From Unexplored Syria, pg 36
You were so kind as to insert a letter from me last May concerning `Tadmor in the Wilderness,' and I shall feel glad if you find a pendent letter about Ba'albak, its rival in the traveller's interest, -worthy of a similar favour. Many of your readers have visited or intend to visit its magnificent ruins —gigantic remains which Rome herself cannot show -- and they will be thankful for the information which my five days under canvas in the midst of its temples enable me to give them.
For some months past my husband has been making interest with Rashid Pasha, the Wali, or Governor- general of Syria, to take certain precautionary steps for the conservation of old Heliopolis. In the early Saracenic times the temple, or rather temples, had been built up into a fort; whence, as at Palmyra, they are still known to the Arabs as El Kala'ah (the Castle). Of late years the moat has been planted with poplars, dry walls have divided into garden plots; and thus the visitor can neither walk round the build- ing, nor enjoy the admirable proportions, the vast length of line,
On July 21 we left B'ludan, accompanied by Messrs. Drake and Palmer, who were finishing with a tour through Palestine their hard work and harder times in the `Tih' and the mountains of Sinai. We were very happy to have the society of these gentlemen as far as the cedars of Lebanon, and we only regretted that the journey was so short. Rashid Pasha sent from Damascus Mr. Barker, chief civil engineer to the government of Syria, whose duty it was to undertake the actual work.
After examining the Saracenic capping of large stones overlying the south-eastern anta of Jupiter,' and which seems to crush down the cornice and to exfoliate the columns at the joints, it was judged inadvisable to remove them. The cornice, broken in two places, inclines slightly outwards, whilst the stones are disposed exactly over the centre of gravity, and serve to diminish the thrust : we therefore left with regret this hideous addition, this bonnet de nuit, which must now be regarded as a necessary evil. I may here remark for the benefit of your general readers, that no one can form an idea of the size of the stones used for building Heliopolis unless they have seen them. The three famous ones, measuring 64 ft., 63 ft. 8 in., and 63 ft. long, each 13 ft. in height and breadth, and raised to a height of 20 ft. or more, take one's breath, and compel one to sit before them, only to be more and more puzzled by thinking how very superior in stone-lifting and transporting the Pagans must have been to us Christians of 1870.
The first work was to demolish the ignoble eastern masking wall. At an interview with the local authorities it was agreed that they should supply labour, on condition of being allowed to carry off the building material. During our stay of five days the upper part of the barbarous screen had been removed, much to the benefit of the temple, and it was a great excitement to the small population of the village of Ba'albak to see the huge masses of stone coming down with a thud.
We intended next to expose, by clearing away the rubbish- heap at the proper entrance, the alt-reliefs extending on both sides of the great portal. Lastly, we had planned to underpin the falling keystone with a porphyry shaft, of which there are several in the Jami el Kabir, or chief mosque. The prop was to be as thin as possible, so as not to hide the grand old eagle, emblem of Ba'al, the Sun-god, which occupies the lower surface of the middle soffit stone.
Unhappily, Mr. Barker, immediately on beginning work, was summoned to Damascus by Rashid Pasha, who, after having kindly offered to carry out the improvements, changed his mind suddenly, inexplicably, a la Turque. He objected to the worthless building material being given away — the why will not interest your readers. The English nation would have spent hundreds of pounds in such a cause, and we could have done it with pence; but you cannot succeed in making an Oriental brain understand that a few piastres in the pocket are not a greater glory than saving these splendid antiquities. The indolent Eastern will only shrug his shoulders and call you a Majnun —a madman—and if he can put a spoke in your wheel, well, it might give him an emotion, and he will not neglect his opportunity. So Mr. Barker was kept doing nothing at head-quarters, hardly ever admitted to the ' presence,' and after short, rare visits uncourteously dismissed. I am always sorry to see an Englishman in `native' employment and if Mr. Barker had not been born at Aleppo, and knew anything of England, he would be sorry too. About the end of August he was ordered to lay out a road between Tripoli and Hamah; not a carriage road, but a mere mule path, which half a dozen Fellahs and donkey-boys could have done as well as the best of civil engineers. Thus poor Ba'albak has been again abandoned to the decay and desolation of the last fourteen centuries. We do not despair, however, of carrying out our views, and and we can only hope that when his Excellency has finished his goat-track he will lend help to the cause of science. Perhaps he would, if he could understand how much all civilised people will care about this our undertaking, and how abundantly patronising such a cause would redound to the credit of Constantinople.
I hope that my friends who visit Ba'albak will let this letter supplement `Murray', and by all means prefer to the latter plan of the ruins given by Joanne et Isannbert, as that in `Murray' is very poor.
The temples are doubtless the the main attraction, but they are not everything, at Heliopolis. A day may well be devoted to the following programme. Walk up the hill to the southeast of the Kala'ah, examining the remains of the western wall, about the gate now called 'Bawwabat Doris,' or 'El Sirr.' Visit the rock tombs and sepulchral caves, the remains of the small temple and Doric columns, and the Saracen 'Kubbat,' or dome, under which lies Melek el Amjad, of the Seljukian dynasty. From this high point the view of the ruins and of the valley is really charming. Descend to the nearest Maklali (quarries), and measure - as every one does, with different results -- the Hajar el Hablah, or `pregnant stone,' as the huge unfinished block is called. Our measurement was 70ft. long, 14 ft. 2 in. high, and 13 ft.. 11 in. broad. It was doubtless cut and prepared for building, but not detached from the quarry at one end; and the extraordinary sight makes you exclaim, Something must have frightened them away before they had time to carry it off.' Ride to the `Kubbat Doris,' so named from a neighbouring village; its eight columns of fine granite have doubtless been removed from the classic building. Thence proceed to the other quarries north of the temples. After some six indirect miles nearly due west (279° magnetic) of the ruins, you strike the sources of the Litani, or river of Tyre, and of the Asi (Orontes), which rise at the eastern foot of the Lebanon outliers, within one short mile of each other. Concerning these matters, however, Captain Burton will communicate with the Royal Geographical Society. On the way you can enter the tents of the Turkomans, who, though wandering about Syria since the days of the Crusader, have preserved, like their neighbours the Nuwar (gipsies), their ancestral language and customs. From the sources turn to the north-east, and see the ' Kamu'a Iyad,' named from a neighbouring village evidently a memorial column like that of Alilamus, still standing at Palmyra. Thence across the north-eastern quarries, cut in steps like the Egyptian, to the eastern wall of Ba'al- bak. This must be carefully examined, and its difference from that of Tadmor, a succession of mausolea, should be duly noted.
Most travellers will now gladly return to their tents. If unwilling to spend a second day, they will remount about 2 P.M., and follow up to its source the little mountain torrent Ayn Lujuj. If the weather be not too cold, they can descend the Najmah, or shaft, explore the tunnel with magnesium wire, and extend the subterranean journey as far as the iron door reported by the natives. We found the prospect peculiarly uninviting. Retracing your steps down the wady, and visiting the tombs of the feudal house of Harfush, you strike the valley of the Ba'albak waters at the source known as the Ra'as el Ayn. This is by far the quietest and the prettiest spot for pitching tents, but most people prefer, as we did, for convenience to encamp among the ruins. Examine the two mosques, the larger built by the Melek el As'ad, son of the celebrated Melek el Zahir, and the smaller, Jami' el Melawiyah,' dating, as the inscription shows, from A.H. 670, and erected by the Melek Zahir himself. Those who have spare time might try a little digging in the mortuary caverns which riddle the soft chalky cliff on the proper left of the river valley. Even at Ba'albak little has been done in the way of fouilles. The general visitor stays one day, and, after looking at the temples, goes on his way rejoicing that he has 'done' his Ba'albak. M. Achille Joyeau, a young French artist, grand price de Rome, who, employed by his government, spent some months in measuring and modelling the temples, seems to have made a cross-cut on the south of the remaining six columns which mark the great temples of Ba'al. There has, however, been no work on a grand scale, and I am convinced that excavation would produce valuable results. Lastly, as the sun sinking behind the giant wall in front, you pass down the valley of the Ra'as el to the tents or house, and you thus end the supplementary ride.
In fine weather nothing can be more delightful than this excursion. The clear, crisp, pure air at an elevation of 3000 feet above sea level; the abundance of water 'more splendid than glass;' the variety, the novelty, and the glorious associa- tions of the view; the sublime aspect of the ruins crowning the fertile valley, and backed by the eternal mountains; the manifold contrasts of stony brown range, barren yellow flat, luxuriant verdure of irrigated field and orchard; and last, not least, the ermined shoulders of Hermon, Sannin, and Arz Libnan (the Cedar Block) thrown out into such relief by the diaphanous blue sky that they seem to be within cannot-shot — if these things will not satisfy a traveller's taste, I don't know what will.
Isabel Burton.
B'ludan, near Damascus, Sept. 20, 1870.