THE PROVINCE OF TRIPOLI.
If we leave the port of Tunis on one of the little Maltese schooners, we can, after a sail of some forty-eight hours with a favorable wind, easily discern the walls of Tripoli rising out of the sea from the low, rocky tongue of land in the western extremity of the province.
The coast line is so low that we have been able to see it only upon very near approach to shore. The mountains of the interior, however, were discernible even at a distance of ten miles from shore, and our pilot has not hesitated to use them as safe landmarks by which to direct the course of our little vessel.
As we approach the coast it is seen as a more distinct line above the waves. Gradually it assumes the form of a long crescent, the white walls of the town rising from the center.
The eastern point of the crescent-shaped shore is overgrown with a dense grove of palm trees, which stand like troops protecting the coast, even to the water's edge, by what seems like an advance guard. The western point of the crescent is but a stretch of the yellow sands of the desert, with here and there a stunted growth to break the monotony.
A small gulf forms the harbor of the town. Across the front of this gulf a reef of low rocks serves as a foundation for a natural breakwater. One would think that it would be an easy matter to add to nature's work and make this feature of valuable service to the harbor; but the indolent Arabs have contented themselves with throwing out a frail rampart for a short distance from the shore.
Doubtless this rampart was made upon foundations laid by the Romans. On it some rusty cannon are mounted, as if to recall the glory of departed days, when the power of this kingdom, with its piratical character, struck terror to all the European nations whose vessels plowed the seas. Like Algiers, Tripoli was, in past ages, notorious for its piracy.
As far back as the middle of the sixteenth century, a governor of the province, a noted corsair himself, encouraged piracy to such an extent that the town of Tripoli had become the headquarters of the worst class of men that had ever sailed the seas. All commerce was at the mercy of these men, who were hated as much as they were feared.
This condition of affairs had continued until the beginning of the present century, when the English compelled the Tripolitans to abandon their infamous doings upon the seas. Hence, in Tripoli, as in Algiers, piracy is at an end. Thanks to war ships, we can rejoice that the black flag, the skull and crossbones, the clipper ships that carried them, and the dastardly crews that maimed these pirate crafts are all things of the past.
Tripoli, like all the cities of the Orient, is beautiful, if seen from a distance; approach to it is sure to be very disenchanting to the traveler. Let him once step foot upon the little quay, built of masonry, gayly striped in green, yellow, blue, and red, and all poetic fancies leave his mind, as his eyes and nose are greeted with the most disenchanting, yet striking, sights and smells.
As he passes through the little gate of the fishers he emerges into a perfect labyrinth of narrow, irregular streets, far more dirty than any imagination could picture. These streets are lined with the most miserable little shops and old houses crumbling to ruins, and are littered on all sides with dirt of every description.
Only on rare occasions has the town known any spasmodic attempts at cleanliness. Such an occasion offers itself whenever a new pasha arrives from Constantine to assume official duties and issues an eloquent appeal to the people to cultivate cleanliness.
A spirit of emulation seems then to possess the people. Each person tries to outdo his neighbor. The proprietor of each little shop cleans away all dirt from his house and premises and carefully places it in a little heap in the street, to be removed to a place outside the town limits. Alas! the removal of the garbage is postponed indefinitely, the piles of dirt and waste increase in size, and are finally scattered to the four winds, and the old state of dirt and filth prevails.
Most of the houses are united to one another every few rods by arches of masonry. After heavy rains these supports have to be strengthened by rafters. In spite of these precautions many houses tumble to pieces in the course of a single year. It is hard to assign a cause for this. Possibly it may be due to the poor quality of the lime used in building, to the brackish nature of the water, or to the inferior quality of the building stone, which, is merely a compressed sand.
It is a curious fact that houses rarely last more than a year without showing signs of decay. This condition of things discourages architects and builders. Hence, few handsome edifices and buildings are seen, if we except those of a few Europeans, the buildings of the consul, the convent of the mission, and a few others.
The houses are low, usually of one story, and their flat roofs do not add to the apparent height of the buildings. The arrangement of the houses is about the same in all cases. There is a square court, around which extends a covered gallery, supported by slender columns.
Long narrow rooms, generally in the form of a Latin cross with the foot wanting, lead from this gallery. At right angles to these narrow rooms, or more strictly speaking, corridors, are two larger rooms which open from them. These several apartments are separated from each other by draperies or portières.
The section of Tripoli which lies nearest to the quay is populated by Christians, who have grouped their dwellings around the two or three churches of the town. The Jews occupy the western section of the town, which is, if possible, more unsanitary than the others.
Still, Tripoli is not without interest; for, both within and without its walls, we find not only beautiful gardens but manufactories for leather, carpets, scarfs, and the like.
From Tripoli we can watch the departure of the great caravans for the Sahara on their way to Timbuctoo Bornoo, and other points, to obtain the products of the Soudan. This overland trade we shall find, however, has to a great extent decreased in recent years. The town of Tripoli may well be considered the center of a large agricultural population. Here the native men of wealth, or capitalists, increase their revenues by acting as money lenders to the peasantry, who of course have to pay high rates of interest for the loans.
It is interesting to notice that in no other section of North Africa does the Great Desert approach so closely to the sea as in the province of Tripoli. The Atlas chain of mountains, which, so far, has served as a protection to the Mediterranean shore from the shifting sands of the desert, here dwindles away to a low ridge of hills, and finally disappears entirely in the little Gulf of Systa, which lies west of the town of Tripoli.
On this gulf is the natural seaport of the Soudan, from which, according to Dr. Barth, opens the easiest route to the center of the continent.
The boundaries of the province of Tripoli can hardly be said to be definitely fixed. By some writers the whole area, including Fezzan and Barca, has been estimated at four hundred thousand square miles. Some writers include the oasis of Kufra, east of Fezzan; others declare it to be independent. The total population of the province is estimated at upwards of one million. Of this number about three hundred thousand belong to Barca.
Strange to say, the coast line, stretching as it does over a distance of between seven and eight hundred miles, has only one harbor, that of the town of Tripoli.
The eastern part of the interior is really a continuation of the Great Desert, and has the same general character; hence, large tracts of barren sand are common. The southern portion of the province is partly crossed by the Black Mountains, an eastern range of the Atlas. These slope away into successive terraces, which include many valleys and fertile plains. Off to the west, the surface of the country shows still greater variety; here the scenery is often beautiful and grand.
By far the richest tract in the whole province of Tripoli is Mesheea. This has a stretch of about fifteen miles of coast line. Its width, however, does not exceed five miles. Its capital is situated very nearly in the center of the district.
The whole district of Mesheea is covered with fertile fields producing wheat, barley, millet, Indian corn, together with madder, saffron, and other crops. Olive groves, vineyards, and orchards producing all kinds of southern fruit, abound.
This fertile little district is divided into small inclosures. In the center of each of them are two upright piles of mason-work. Between them a pulley is suspended, and on this a pointed leathern bucket is made to ascend and descend. Each time the bucket ascends it gives out a stream of limpid water.
The pulley is worked, usually, by a half-clothed negro, who leads a most disconsolate-looking specimen of an ox or cow, as he toils up and down an inclined plane, the lowest part of which is below the surface of the land.
All day and all night this work goes on, from the end of one rainy season till the beginning of the next. During these eight months all the gardens are like so many basins, which are under a regulated system of inundation.
Another curious custom prevails at the season when the sap begins to ascend in the date palm. A man begins to mount one of these trees, aided only by his naked feet and a girdle which holds him to the trunk.
Slowly, steadily, he mounts till he reaches the crown, where the branches spread out. He does not scruple to cut these off until only four remain, stretching out as if to indicate the points of the compass.
Over one of these branches, where it joins the trunk, he passes a fine cord and allows the two ends to reach the ground. He then wounds the tree by making a deep incision between two of the cuts where he chopped off the branches.
Making a descent from the tree, he sends up a bucket by means of the cord, and allows it to hang suspended just under the deep incision he has made. After a space of twelve hours, this bucket is brought down and another is sent up. The former is filled with a pale gray liquid, not quite clear in appearance. It looks much like barley water, is slightly sweet in taste, and is used as we would use mineral waters.
Exposure to the atmosphere for some hours changes the appearance of the liquid. Bubbles rise to the surface, and under this slight fermentation, travelers tell us, it becomes a refreshing beverage, somewhat like soda water.
Left to stand half a day longer, the harmless beverage changes to a thick milk-white fluid with a pungent odor and a slightly acid taste. Worse than all, it has become an intoxicating drink, as evil in its effects as brandy.
It is at this stage that the natives prefer it, and the most rigid Mohammedan, who would shrink with horror at the thought of taking a glass of wine, thinks it no sin to drink a cup of this intoxicating beverage. Without scruple or shame he drinks it publicly, for to him it is only the sap of the palm. If left to stand for another day, it changes to a most nauseating liquid and is unfit for use.
Barca is the eastern division of the province of Tripoli. It lies between the Gulf of Sidra and Egypt. No definite line separates it from Egypt, but several roving, independent tribes serve as a living boundary line between the two races and their countries.
On the south, Barca consists of a desert plain descending gradually to the northerly depressions of the Libyan Desert. The greater part of the province is an oval plateau. It has, in turn, been held by the Egyptians, Byzantines, Persians, and Arabs, and comprised the Cyrenaica of the ancient world.
Many remnants of ancient towns, particularly in the northwest, bear testimony not only to the important place it held in the past, but to the celebrated fertility of the soil. At the present time the fertile tracts cover only about one fourth of the entire province. In the eastern portions only naked rocks and loose sand greet the eye.
Among the productions of Barca are rice, dates, olives, and saffron. Excellent pasturage is afforded to cattle, and the horses are as much celebrated as in days gone by.
The climate of Barca is very agreeable and healthy in the more elevated portions—often twelve hundred feet high—and in the sections exposed to the sea breezes.