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.