[Coast of Phoenicia:] Qu’y a-t-il encore? des tours antiques le long du rivage, sur les rochers; tours aux trois quarts écroulées, dont la base sert de muraille à quelque masure; des entassements de pierre taillées dans les champs et sur le rivage, mêlées avec des colonnes enterrées ou brisées.[1] [1866]
From the European perspective, it was the Syrian seabord and ports which were the key both to access and to trade, and Shaw’s was the general opinion, that the ancients had put up magnificent harbours, but that later rulers “out of avarice, or want of public Spirit, have suffered them to become either alto-gether useless, or else of very little service to the trade and navigation of this rich and plentiful country.”[2]
The Middle East was an entrepôt between East and West and, before the circumnavigation of Africa, Venice and Genoa grew prosperous from that trade. Enormous camel trains brought goods westward, most finishing in Asia Minor (at Smyrna and Bursa) and some in Syria, at Aleppo. Syrian ports were therefore important for mediaeval trade and military incursions,[3] but in sub-sequent centuries these had mixed fortunes, either lacking the maintenance necessary to keep them working, or being deliberately blocked off to prevent naval surprises, even before the Crusades.1 Natural harbours down the coast of Syria were rare, so artificial ones had to be built, many of the surviving remains in various locations being Roman, others marking attempts down the centu-ries to open up the coast for trade. Such harbour works, together with the nec-essary fortresses, took a large toll on the ancient monuments. Since there were so few natural harbours, Herod’s great constructions at Caesarea were essen-tial. In later centuries, the virtual abandonment of once-working ports meant that only small ships (and hence small trade) could be welcomed. In any case, the majority were too small for large 19th century sailing ships, not to men-tion steamers,[4] which were offering regular services by the 1850s.[5] As we saw in Chapter Two, affairs inland were little better during the same centuries: a declining population, abandonment of country towns and villages, desertifica-tion, marauding Bedouin, neglect of agriculture, and a European trade through Aleppo that was on its last legs by 1800.
1 Richard 1998 for the key importance of the ports for both sides.
© Michael Greenhalgh, 2017 | doi 10.1163/9789004334601_006
This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license.
The seabord: harbours and ports north to south 185 This chapter examines seabord towns one by one, both to underline the problems with which they presented Syria up to the 20th century, and to reflect the lack of development inland, but also because before the Middle Ages they had been thriving towns with important monuments, and were visited for this reason, and also because of biblical connections, by later European travellers.
Inland were hills or mountains so, if robbers were discounted, the coast road could be used. It was flat, and there were always a few settlers along its length.
The towns are examined north to south, almost as if the reader were a middle-sized ship looking for a place to anchor or to dock: Alexandretta/Iskenderun, Seleucia, Lattakia, Tripoli, Byblos, Beirut, Sidon, Tyre, Acre, Caesarea, Haifa, Athlit, Tortosa, Jaffa, Ascalon, and Gaza. There were some landing-places available by the mid-19th century, especially Beirut and Jaffa; earlier travellers either braved Lattakia (the port for Aleppo), or travelled overland from the north or south – from Asia Minor or Egypt. Many travellers’ accounts parcel Syria together with Asia Minor or Egypt, and the latter grouping becomes the more popular as Egypt develops as a winter travel destination, and pilgrimage to the Holy Land develops in part into a group concern, commercially man-aged. Many of the following towns formed part of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem, and their antiquities were usually re-used in their building of town walls, in eleven towns on the coast, and three inland.2
In many of the ports discussed below we shall come across large numbers of columns thrown into the sea for use as breakwaters, and it will become clear that their numbers diminished over the years, because it was evidently not over-difficult to dredge them up into boats, dry them off, and re-use them else-where. Casola, travelling in 1494, relates that Saladin was said to have re-used columns from Jaffa, some on land, some lifted from the water:
Our magnificent captain assured me that this was true, because a few years ago he was obliged with his boats to help to raise certain columns which were in the water there at Jaffa, and which were afterwards dried and taken to Jerusalem to be used in the building of the new Mosque.[6]
Iskenderun
D’ailleurs personne ne regrettera Alexandrette, avec son port dangereux, son climat malsain et la traversée de l’Amanus, difficile en tous temps et périlleuse en hiver.[7] [1889]
2 Pringle 1995.
In the knee-bend between Cilicia and Syria sits Alexandretta, or Iskenderun.
This is the northern port for Antioch a few kilometres to the south, the other being Seleucia Pieria (see below). The name indicates its founder. Nearly deserted at the Ottoman Conquest,3 in 1669 traces of luxurious churches still survived there: “di tre ò quattro Chiese, e dalle colonne, capitelli, basi, cornici, e pietre, marmi bellissimi, s’argomenta fossero fabriche di considerazione.”[8] Ruins of a temple and a city were to be seen on the road hence to Aleppo.[9] Traces of its ancient harbour at Arsous (“the foundations of strong edifices, from which two keys have run out, so as to form a pretty little mole or harbour”) were visible in 1754.[10] This part of the coast was marshy, certainly by 1738,[11] and a breeding-ground for malaria; this affected Drummond who, when he recovered, went “in quest of such antiquities as had escaped the blind fury of those wretches who are now in possession of Asia.”[12] The Aleppo merchants in the 1770s suggested to the Pasha of Tripoli that they would pay to refurbish the harbour if duties on their goods were forgiven for ten years, and otherwise would carry their trade to Lattakia. But he refused:
“But what signifies it to me,” replied the Pasha, what may happen in time?
I was yesterday at Marash; to-morrow, perhaps, I shall be at Djeddah.
“Why should I deprive myself of present advantages which are certain, for future benefits I cannot hope to partake of?”[13]
This might have been a common argument, for the Aga of Gaza advanced it when Volney suggested to him in 1792 that he should repair his palace at Ramleh: “Pourquoi, disois-je un jour à un de ses sous-Agas, ne répare-t-il pas au moins la chambre? Et s’il est supplanté l’année prochaine, répondit-il, qui lui rendra sa dépense?”[14] Porter’s explanation in 1868 was that Syrians were concerned only about their own house, selfishness reigning supreme:
The consequence is, that there is not a road in the whole country except the one recently made by a French company . . . It sometimes hap-pens that a roué pasha takes a pious fit, and spends a tithe of his ill-got gains in building a bridge or adorning a mosque; but the moment the work is finished the process of dilapidation begins, and nobody thinks of repairs.
3 Nour 1982, 298–299: Antioche et la renaissance d’Alexandrette.
The seabord: harbours and ports north to south 187 The result was a country that looked as if it had been hit by a continuing earthquake:
There are so many broken bridges, ruinous mosques, and roofless cara-vansaries. It is emphatically a land of ruins, and ruins are increasing in number every year.[15]
One area of the marshes was drained about 1830, and an opinion in 1836 was that “for less than 1000l all the land might be efficiently drained, cleared, and rendered fit for cultivation.”[16] This is but one of several examples of Europeans seeing just how easily and cheaply improvements could be made to the land of Syria. Squire in 1820 indicted the Turkish government with igno-rance and imbecility, for not draining the marshes, cultivating the land, and introducing commerce to this, “one of the finest bays in the world.”[17] In 1832 Aucher-Éloy stated the obvious: this was the best port for Aleppo, and suit-able for the Sultan’s navy.[18] In fact, Ibrahim Pasha [ruler of Syria 1831–40] cut a canal to channel a spring, which “finding no adequate outlet, have created those baneful marshes which surround the town, extending over nearly the whole plain.”[19] But in 1840 there were still no harbour services: ships had to unload using their own boats, and there was no accommodation to be had.[20] What is more, in 1854 Laorty-Hadji suggested that it was not only diffi-cult docking that caused the problem, claiming that visiting sailors were dying because of its climate: “Des fièvres du plus fâcheux caractère, accompagnées d’obstructions au foie et compliquées d’hydropisie, enlèvent le tiers des équi-pages qui viennent y charger pendant l’été.”[21]
According to Neale in 1851 the government was paranoid about spending on harbour works, sending “some soi-disant engineers to form an estimate of what the cost would be.” Hence work was stopped short of completion because it was thought the Franks “when the work was completed, would probably lay claim to the recovered land. This was the Turkish dog in the manger, at the same time that they were perishing from fevers, and never dreamt of turning the marshes to any account themselves.”[22] As a result in 1855 “it requires a strong act of faith to believe that wealth and luxury have once been in all their pomp and pride where now not even a bat or an owl resides,”[23] while in 1856 the town was still “dirty, miserable, marshy, and unhealthy” yet also potentially (as several travellers remarked) “the best harbour on the coast of Syria.”[24] The town had been devastated by the 1822 earthquake, and not yet rebuilt, for in 1859 “quelques cabanes éparses au milieu de roseaux et de palmiers compo-sent le village de Scanderoun.”[25] In 1844 the British consul here got acclima-tised, but only after fifty attacks of fever.[26] Things were looking up by 1918,
but fever was still a problem.[27] The import/export trade had grown, perhaps because efforts had been made to fill in and drain the marshes.[28] The spoils reverted to the new Turkey, to the detriment of Aleppo.4
Seleucia Pieria
To the north of Lattakia were Iskenderun, sitting in its own bay; and Seleucia Pieria (or Suweida), just north of the River Orontes. Both are now in Turkey.
Seleucia was founded by Seleucus I Nicator, who gave it important ancient har-bour works, including a 1350m tunnel intended to divert the river and keep the harbour from silting. This was one of the ports for Antioch. In the early 19th century, Iskenderun was the winter port for Aleppo, and Lattakia for the sum-mer, but neither was in good condition:
Le port d’Alexandrète n’est pas tenable dans l’une de ces saisons, à cause de son insalubrité, et celui de Laodicée ne l’est pas dans l’autre, parce que la jetée en est rompue et qu’il ne peut recevoir que de petits bâtiments.
Il faudrait réparer le port de Laodicée et assaillir celui d’Alexandrète, en donnant un écoulement aux eaux.[29]
This site, modern Al-Sweidiyeh,[30] a town near the Mediterranean coast serving Antioch, is not to be confused with the Suweida in the Hauran. Our travellers call it some variation of Suedia. Griffiths visited the area in 1805, determined to find the remains of Seleucus’ famous port, but could see only “the remains of two moles indicated where this famous port had once received the innumer-able but diminutive vessels of the eastern monarchs.”[31] The following account will explain why viewing the ancient harbour works was so difficult.
Seleucia was already in bad condition in 1754, the large blocks of its quays tumbled down:
One of them is perfectly intire for above thirty feet, and is forty-five feet in breadth; the basin may be about eight hundred feet wide; but how large the entrance was, or how far from the land, I could not pretend to judge.[32]
The town walls were still traceable at this date, but within them “no intelli-gible ruins could I find.”[33] By 1772ff, when Parsons was travelling, silting
(pre-4 Fedden 1955, 213: after WWI “the arbitrary seizure of Alexandretta fatally compromised the already reduced possibilities of Aleppo.”
The seabord: harbours and ports north to south 189 sumably) meant that he only saw corn fields on the site. However, its former greatness was remembered by the locals: “pointing to the old port, they said their fore-fathers had left it on record, that that was the port of Antioch when it was a great city.”[34] The port works (including a tunnel and canals) were still visitable in 1838, when Robinson noted the iron cramps uniting the large blocks of the jetty projecting into the sea;[35] but there was nobody there except himself.[36] In 1839 Layard marvelled at the “great tunnel and water-course, cut with extraordinary labour and skill through the solid rock, to carry off the waters of a torrent which threatened to fill up the port with the mud and stones that it brought down from the mountains, and which were thus diverted to the sea.”[37] The dimensions of this cutting were extraordinary. It was broad enough for seven or eight horses abreast,[38] and demonstrated an ancient attempt to keep the port free of the effects of winter rains.[39] By the 1870s, the port which Pococke had described over a century beforehand
n’est plus qu’un marécage, la mer s’étant retirée à une distance de près de cent cinquante mètres. Son énorme môle existe en partie, montrant encore la terrasse qu’il supportait, et, dans le bas, de spacieuses cavités qui probablement étaient des magasins pour les besoins du commerce.[40] Nevertheless, there survived some ancient remains, perhaps of a temple, plus a statue of the seated Neptune.[41] In 1860 Bourquenoud described the topog-raphy of the harbour and of the town, plus the walls of the upper town (with a tower “revêtue de belles pierres de taille”); he saw marble débris in the town, and noted the recent discovery of a marble statue.[42]
Here as at other erstwhile harbours, the port was a swamp in 1851, yet still with lions surviving at its entrance.[43] In 1825 Buckingham found in the area
“the remains of a curious edifice, apparently once encompassed by a square of twenty columns, five on each face. There are still ten of these columns standing,”[44] and went on to inspect a Roman tomb, with bas-reliefs of hel-mets, shields and armour.[45] Both were still there in 1838, visited by Lindsay, who walked down the ancient pavement, “but the street is in many places choked up with rubbish, and we then clambered over the roofs, and through the apartments of the old houses; fig-trees grow wild among them.”[46] In 1834 Madox found another colonnade near Suweida, this one oval, near the Druze village of Garnavate:
The ruins here are beautiful. Magnificent temples or palaces, with col-umns, all of great strength and beautiful workmanship, greet the eye.
Round one door the vine in clusters was sculptured; and floral ornaments appeared on others. All is in a state of ruin: part of the ground is paved:
water gushes down in all directions, forming cascades amongst these once well-built houses.[47]
For European visitors in the earlier 19th century, the must-see in the valley of Suedia was the garden of John Barker, long-time British consul at Aleppo, where “les arbres et les plantes d’Europe y sont mêlés aux arbres et aux plan-tes d’Orient,”[48] and where he built himself a villa,[49] which included marble basins and flowing water.[50] He also promoted local industry, namely silk pro-duction and cotton weaving.[51] There appears to have been a spurt of cottage-building by English merchants, but these were untenanted by 1861, perhaps as a result of the decline of the Aleppo trade including, as Skene writes, “the dilapidated villa of a late British consul, where we had taken up our quarters.”
He returned to the sea, and admired “a fine colossal statue, representing the river Orontes, lately dug up, and a curious tunnel constructed in the rock to prevent a winter torrent from flowing into the basin, with a great many sepul-chral caves of considerable interest.”[52]
The ancients had done so much work on the complex that it should be restored, thought Captain William Allen R.N. in 1855. A Fellow of both the Royal Society and the Royal Geographical Society, Allen described the setup thoroughly, making a survey “in the hope of finding that this port is capable of being restored to its original purpose.”[53] His sketch appears in the 1898 Baedeker, but everywhere was still in ruin, without any active port.[54] Thus it remained in 1919, with little hope of being cleared: “The ancient dock or port which was excavated from the rock is now partially silted up, and considerable rock excavation would be required to convert it into a modern harbour, as the limestone in the old basin is only 12.5 feet below sea level.”[55] In other words, either the sea floor had risen, or the land had sunk.
Lattakia
Surrounded by the sea on three sides . . . Its buildings are very ancient . . . The port of Al Lâdhikiyyah is a most wonderful harbour, and one of the most spacious, so that it never ceases to lie full of large ships. There is at its mouth a great chain which protects the ships that are inside from the enemies’ ships without.[56] [later 13thC]
During the Middle Ages, some of Syria’s Mediterranean ports were evi-dently kept in good condition. Lattakia/Laodicea is a few kilometres north of Byblos and, in the 13th century, Dimashqi notes the marble quarries in the area, and the port, as in the above quote, and “on y voyait des marbres
The seabord: harbours and ports north to south 191 de toute espèce.”[57] Although some of its buildings were dismantled during the Crusades,[58] Ibn Battuta (d.1368) describes Lattakia as closed with a chain (as it was in Dimashqi’s day), it being “un des plus beaux ports de mer de la Syrie.”[59] In the later 17th century Lattakia was refurbished, “being cherished, and put in a way of trade by Coplan Aga, a man of great wealth, and author-ity in these parts, and much addicted to merchandise,”[60] and a man whose name was still known and revered in the area in the mid-18th century.[61] Such accounts refer to the inland town, and it is not clear what alterations he made to the port.
In the 18th century the town of Lattakia was still rich in ancient remains. In 1714 Lucas saw a splendid church said to have been built by S. Helena, with a fallen vault, and the environs used for animals:
L’on voit encore ces belles colonnes qui soutenoient le comble. Au dessous de l’Eglise sont de grandes voûtes fort longues, qui servent aujourd’huy à
L’on voit encore ces belles colonnes qui soutenoient le comble. Au dessous de l’Eglise sont de grandes voûtes fort longues, qui servent aujourd’huy à