DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.11448#0320
I
THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS.
[CHA*. II
air, and to their cooing the woodpecker keeps time like a castanet,
while the sea-birds scream an occasional accompaniment.
Now we can contemplate the prospect in pleasant leisure,
whilst our eye ranges, like an eagle's, over sea, and earth, and
sky.
To the north, the Mediterranean spreads away in a blue as
profound as that of the heavens that overarch it; and its expanse,
too, is varied with its own light clouds of foam. Beneath us, in
the offing, a proud English frigate and some French and Austrian
men-of-war lie at anchor, like watch-dogs over the large flock of
merchantmen, that lie nearer to the shore. The bay is bordered
to the right by the magnificent array of the Lebanon mountains,
rising from the sea, in which their various hills, glens, and even
crag-perched villages, are reflected. Each of those acclivities
has a little tract of richly-coloured vegetation hanging from its
shoulders like a tartan cloak, and wears a fortress for its crown:
from the golden sands below to the snowy tracts above, the Druse
and Maronite districts may be traced as on a map. In front of
us appears the thin smoke of the city, surrounded by such of the
picturesquely-ruined castles and fortifications as the British artil-
lery has spared; with encampments of green and yellow tents at
intervals amongst the groves outside the walls. The consular
flags of almost every European nation are gaily fluttering over
the flat-roofed town within, whose monotony is diversified with
tower, and mosque, and minaret. Around us, upon gentle slopes
and many terraces, are groves of the fig-tree, the ilex, and the
sycamore. Here and there, a small palm-tree waves its plumy
head; hedges of flowering cactus, with their fat fantastic leaves,
enclose gardens of small mulberry and pomegranate trees; olives,
melons, and cucumbers. The waters'-edge flings a creamy foam
upon black rocks, frequently showing traces of edifices of the an-
cient city that have long since crumbled into gravel. And over
all this is spread a chameleon sky, shot with every conceivable
colour, that seems as if Iris were weaving some gorgeous canopy
for sunset, so rapidly do the colours, which are her web and woof,
come and go.
Prince K., whom I had met in the Tombs of Thebes, arrived
at Beyrout about this time, and accompanied me in my boat to
THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS.
[CHA*. II
air, and to their cooing the woodpecker keeps time like a castanet,
while the sea-birds scream an occasional accompaniment.
Now we can contemplate the prospect in pleasant leisure,
whilst our eye ranges, like an eagle's, over sea, and earth, and
sky.
To the north, the Mediterranean spreads away in a blue as
profound as that of the heavens that overarch it; and its expanse,
too, is varied with its own light clouds of foam. Beneath us, in
the offing, a proud English frigate and some French and Austrian
men-of-war lie at anchor, like watch-dogs over the large flock of
merchantmen, that lie nearer to the shore. The bay is bordered
to the right by the magnificent array of the Lebanon mountains,
rising from the sea, in which their various hills, glens, and even
crag-perched villages, are reflected. Each of those acclivities
has a little tract of richly-coloured vegetation hanging from its
shoulders like a tartan cloak, and wears a fortress for its crown:
from the golden sands below to the snowy tracts above, the Druse
and Maronite districts may be traced as on a map. In front of
us appears the thin smoke of the city, surrounded by such of the
picturesquely-ruined castles and fortifications as the British artil-
lery has spared; with encampments of green and yellow tents at
intervals amongst the groves outside the walls. The consular
flags of almost every European nation are gaily fluttering over
the flat-roofed town within, whose monotony is diversified with
tower, and mosque, and minaret. Around us, upon gentle slopes
and many terraces, are groves of the fig-tree, the ilex, and the
sycamore. Here and there, a small palm-tree waves its plumy
head; hedges of flowering cactus, with their fat fantastic leaves,
enclose gardens of small mulberry and pomegranate trees; olives,
melons, and cucumbers. The waters'-edge flings a creamy foam
upon black rocks, frequently showing traces of edifices of the an-
cient city that have long since crumbled into gravel. And over
all this is spread a chameleon sky, shot with every conceivable
colour, that seems as if Iris were weaving some gorgeous canopy
for sunset, so rapidly do the colours, which are her web and woof,
come and go.
Prince K., whom I had met in the Tombs of Thebes, arrived
at Beyrout about this time, and accompanied me in my boat to