Proceedings of the expedition to explore the northern coast of Africa, from Tripoly eastward

by Frederick William Beechey; H. W. Beechey

The ravines which form the eastern and western boundaries of Ptolemeta (particularly that to the eastward) are wild and romantic in the extreme; and one might imagine one’s-self transported, in winding along them, to the beautiful secluded valleys of Switzerland and Savoy. It is true that in the Cyrenaica nature is on a less extended scale than in the mountainous districts we have mentioned; but it appears in a form no less captivating on that account; and we will venture to say, that if a person who had travelled in those countries should be suddenly dropt into the eastern valley of Ptolemeta, without being told where he was, he would certainly suspect himself to be in one of them. He would never, for a moment, dream of being in Africa—that parched and barren region of desert monotony so horrid in European estimation. For our own parts we shall never forget the delight which we experienced, at every new turn of the valley, as fresh objects of interest presented themselves to our view on either side of this enchanting retreat.

We had already passed through a very interesting country, in our journey from Bengazi to Ptolemeta; and we had long forgotten the dreary swamps and insipidity of the Syrtis, where only one tree had been seen to rear itself in a space of more than four hundred miles.

It could not, therefore, be contrast that made the vallies of Ptolemeta appear to us in such captivating forms and colours—it was the simple impression which Nature’s favourite spots never fail to create on the imagination—heightened only, perhaps, by the solitude of the scene, and the wild, romantic elegance of its character. There are beauties which may be felt, but cannot be described; and the charm of romantic scenery is one of them.

We will not therefore attempt any other description of the eastern valley of Ptolemeta, than by remarking that it rises gradually from the sea, winding through forests of pine and flowering shrubs, (which thicken as the sides of the mountain on which they grow become higher and more abrupt,) till it loses itself in the precipitous part of the range which bounds it to the southward, and which presents a dark barrier of thickly-planted pines, shooting up into the blue sky above them. The windings of the valley greatly add to its beauty, and the scenery increases in interest at every turn, in tracing it up towards the mountains in which it loses itself. Sometimes the path is impeded by trees, which throw their branches across it, leaving only a narrow passage beneath them; and sometimes, on emerging from this dark and difficult approach, a broad sweep of verdant lawn will suddenly present itself, fenced in, apparently, on all sides, by high walls of various-coloured pines, rising one above the head of the other, in all the grandeur of uniformity. On reaching the opposite end of this verdant amphitheatre, a new scene presents itself, before unsuspected; and the rambler, bewildered with variety, finds himself utterly incapable of deciding which pleases him most, or when he shall feel himself equal to the task of tearing himself away from the spot. We confess that, when first we discovered this valley, the shades of night surprised us before we thought the sun had set, far in its deepest recesses; and we never afterwards visited it without regretting that our occupations would not allow us more leisure to admire it.

Among the trees which clothe the sides of the mountains are many handsome stone sarcophagi of Greek and Roman workmanship, all of which, however, we found had been opened; and among them seats of the same material were occasionally observed to have been placed, as if the spirits of the dead loved to linger about the spot which had so much delighted them when living. We should willingly have devoted a great portion of our time to the same pleasing occupation, and have passed whole days in wandering among the tombs, in making plans and drawings of them, and searching for inscriptions: but fate had not decreed us so agreeable a lounge, and after securing in our portfolios some of the principal objects of the place, we set out without further delay for Cyrene, which we had determined (as our time was now limited) should form the chief object of inquiry. We had, however, arranged that, on our return from Cyrene, the plan of the town and neighbourhood of Ptolemeta (which will be found annexed) should be completed; and that drawings should be made of such of the most conspicuous objects as had not been already secured, all of which was eventually accomplished.

It will be seen, by a reference to the plan of Ptolemeta, that the position of the town was remarkably well chosen. In its front was the sea; and on either side a ravine, along which are still seen traces of fortification, secured its flanks from any sudden attack; while the only passes by which it could be approached from the high ridge of mountains to the southward, were defended (as will appear in the plan) by strong barriers drawn completely across them: the whole town, at the same time, was originally inclosed within a wall which may still be traced to considerable extent, running parallel with the mountains at the back, and extending from these, along the banks of the ravines, to the sea. Two bridges appear (from the existing remains) to have been thrown across each of the ravines; one of which is to this day tolerably perfect, and is faithfully represented, in its actual condition, in the drawing which is given of it (page 362); several forts were also scattered about in various directions, both within and without the walls, contributing at once to the beauty and security of the place. The situation of the town in other respects was also remarkably good. It sloped down gradually from the high ground which forms the foot of the mountains at its back, (and which sheltered it from the southerly winds,) and must consequently have enjoyed the full benefit of the cool northern breezes, so grateful in all hot climates. In fact, there is no place on the coast of Northern Africa, between Ptolemeta and Tripoly, which can at all be compared with the former of these places, for beauty, convenience, and security of position, Lebda alone excepted. We are, however, informed, that the town of Ptolemeta suffered at one time so severely from want of water, that the inhabitants were obliged to relinquish their houses, and disperse themselves about the country in different directions. The reparation of the aqueducts and cisterns of the town, which, it seems, had fallen into decay, restored Ptolemeta to its former flourishing state; and this act is recorded, among many others of a similar nature performed at the command of Justinian, in the eulogy of that emperor by Procopius. As Ptolemeta is unprovided with springs, the care of its reservoirs and aqueducts must have been at all times peculiarly essential; and we find that its buildings of this class are among the most perfect of its existing remains.

It is probable that the cisterns we have mentioned above, as being situated under the tesselated pavement of the edifice which Bruce calls a temple, were among those alluded to by Procopius. They consist of two divisions of arched chambers, running parallel with each other, which are connected by others of shorter dimensions, running in an opposite direction. They communicate mutually, by means of small door-ways, of the form which will be seen in the plan (page 367), and circular apertures were left at intervals in the roof, which received light and air from the court-yard above them, and might have served equally as entrances to the cisterns, or as places from which the water might be drawn up in buckets. They have all of them been coated with an excellent cement, which is still, for the most part, very perfect, and occupy a square of about an hundred feet. We may suppose that these reservoirs were occasionally available as supplies for the general use of the town, since the remains of an aqueduct leading from them through the centre of it are still visible, as will appear in the plan of Ptolemeta. There are also remains of stone conductors leading into these cisterns from the mountains at the back of the town, and as rain usually falls in great quantities during the winter they must have been for the most part well supplied. We searched in vain for some inscription on the walls of these buildings which might throw light on the period of their construction or restoration, but were unable to discover one in any part of them: the arches which form the roofs are well turned and constructed in the usual manner, with a key-stone. We may add, that these cisterns still afford a very copious supply to the Arab tribes of the neighbourhood, although no care is taken to lead the rain into them; and we found the water which they contained on our arrival at Ptolemeta uncommonly cool and delightful.

The greater part of the town, on our first visits to it, was thickly overgrown with wild marigolds and camomile, to a height of four and five feet, and patches of corn were here and there observable growing equally within the city walls[17]. The solitude of the place was at the same time unbroken by animals of any description; if we except a small number of jackals and hyænas, which strayed down after sunset in search of water, and a few owls and bats which started out from the ruins as we disturbed them by our near and unexpected approach. Appeals of this kind are always irresistible; and the contrast which presented itself between the silence and desolation which characterized the city of Ptolemeta when we visited it, and the busy scene which a spectator of its former wealth and magnificence would have witnessed under the Ptolemies and the Cæsars, afforded a striking and, we must say, a melancholy example of the uncertainty of all human greatness.

If the exuberant vegetation we have mentioned appeared to be rather out of its place, it was not less a source of inconvenience than regret, for we had the pleasure of being obliged to wade through it up to our arm-pits in making our way to the different buildings; and it may readily be imagined that this tiresome operation, after the heavy rains which fell occasionally at night, was no treat on a cool cloudy morning. The brushing through a turnip field, or one of mangel-wurzel, which many of our readers have no doubt often tried with a double-barrelled gun upon their shoulders, is nothing to the tramping we have mentioned; for not only our boots and trowsers were quickly wet through with the heavy drops which we brushed from their lodgments, but our shirt-sleeves and jackets, and sometimes even our turbans, were also well soaked on these occasions. A very different scene presented itself on our return from Cyrene, when the summer heat had begun to exert its influence. Not a leaf or a stalk remained of all the impediments we have alluded to, and the prevailing colour of the place, which we had left a bright green, had been succeeded by a dusky brown. The corn had been cut and carried, leaving scarcely any traces of its having been formerly growing; and the ruins were left exposed, in all their naked desolation, glaring on the eye of the spectator. We had now to encounter inconveniences of a very different nature from those which had originally presented themselves; but although they were by no means less disagreeable, we had reason to rejoice in the exchange. No impediment now remained to obstruct our approach to, or to prevent our view of the buildings, and we were able to trace the plans of them with much greater ease and accuracy than we could on the former occasions. Having given a general view of the country and remains between Bengazi and Ptolemeta, we will now retrace our steps, and notice a few of the ruins which present themselves in the route with somewhat more attention to detail.

Of the buildings which occur in passing from Bengazi to Teuchira, the most conspicuous is that which we have already mentioned under its modern name of Gusser el Toweel (the high tower), and which we have supposed to be the same with that called Cafez by Edrisi, and placed by him at the distance of a day’s journey from Soluc. It is a quadrangular building of about thirty-six feet by twenty; which is entered by a single door placed in the centre of one of its longest sides. On one side of the building is a narrow chamber, occupying the whole breadth of the interior, and on the opposite side is a low archway, (of not more than six feet in height from the floor, and sunk about four feet below it,) which is now almost filled up with rubbish, and of which, we must confess, we were unable to discover the use. The intervening space is left vacant, forming a single room of something more than seventeen feet in length, and occupying, like the narrow chamber which communicates with it, the whole breadth of the inner part of the building.