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

by Frederick William Beechey; H. W. Beechey

The streets during part of the time were literally converted into rivers; the market was without supplies, owing to the impossibility of driving cattle into the town; and the number of sheep and goats which perished in the neighbourhood of Bengazi, from the extreme inclemency of the weather, amounted (we were informed) to several thousands. For ourselves, we were fortunate in having one room in our house which was capable of resisting the rain, the terrace on its roof having been cemented by one of the Beys, who had occupied it a short time before; and this, we really believe, was the only room in the town which could be fairly considered weather-proof. The court-yard round which our apartments were built (if they may be dignified with so imposing an appellation) assumed for a long time the appearance of a pond, and a narrow space was only left here and there on its borders, by which we could pass from one room to another.

From the state of our own house, which we have already said might be considered as the best in the town, the condition of other parts of Bengazi, during the rains, may be in some measure imagined; although it will scarcely be possible for the inhabitants of civilized countries, unacquainted with the nature of Arab towns, to conceive half the wretchedness and the utter want of comfort which they present on similar occasions.

The houses of Bengazi are built after the usual manner of Arab buildings, that is to say, with rough and unequally-shaped stones, put together with mud instead of mortar; they generally consist of a ground floor only, built round a square court-yard, which is exposed to the weather, and into which the doors of the chambers open, which seldom communicate with each other: the court is not paved, and in houses of more than ordinary consequence, there is sometimes a well in the centre. The roofs are flat, and are formed of rafters (chiefly of young pine-trees from the neighbouring forests) over which are laid mats, and on these there is generally a quantity of sea-weed, or other vegetable rubbish; over the whole is spread a thick stratum of mud, which is beat down as hard as Arab laziness will admit of at the time when the terrace is made[1].

They who can afford it (and there are very few so fortunate) spread a preparation of lime over the mud; which, as the cement is usually well made, forms a surface impervious to the weather, while the coating remains in good condition.

The rain which falls is in these cases highly beneficial, since it is carried off by spouts into some general reservoir, or is collected in large earthern jars for the daily consumption of the house. By far the greater number of houses are, however, unprovided with any defence of this nature; and if the precaution of beating down the mud which forms the terrace, sufficiently hard to make the water run off, be not adopted at the commencement of the rains, it is more than probable, that the whole of the building so neglected will disappear before the season is over. As the religion and the laziness of an Arab equally prompt him to depend more upon the interference of Providence, than upon any exertions of his own, this precaution is often neglected; and after having borne, with exemplary patience, all the dirt and inconvenience occasioned by the passage of the rain through the mud over his head, he is roused from his lethargy by the screams of his wife and children, alarmed, or badly wounded by the fall of the roof, or by some serious accident from a similar cause, by which he is a sufferer himself. Many persons were severely wounded at Bengazi in the winter during which we were confined there; and it is probable, that there are accidents in the town every year, occasioned by similar neglect.

When a house falls, it is generally left in a state of rubbish and ruin, and the survivors of the family remove to another spot without troubling themselves further about it: the consequence is, that the streets are often nearly blocked up by mounds of this nature disposed in various parts of them; which form in the winter-time heaps of mud and mire, and, in the dry weather, scatter thick clouds of light dust in the faces and eyes of the passengers.

As these masses of rubbish also serve at the same time as general receptacles for the superfluities of the city, groups of half-famished dogs and myriads of flies are invariably collected about them; in the midst of which are seen lying very contentedly, or rolling about for diversion, swarms of little naked children, regardless of either, which one might almost fancy were actually produced by the fertilizing qualities of these heaps of putrid matter, as the monsters of old are asserted to have been from the slime and the mud of the Nile. There is, however, nothing singular or peculiar to Bengazi in the scene which we have just described; for every Arab town and village will be found, more or less, to present to us a similar spectacle. Filth and dust, and swarms of insects of every description, must inevitably be the consequences of this continued neglect; and we accordingly find that these several annoyances, together with the scattered groups of lean dogs and naked children, form the principal characteristics (in the estimation of their European visitors) of these enviable places of abode. We say, in the opinion of the natives of Europe, because an Arab or a Moor sees nothing remarkable in any of the objects here alluded to, and would consider it a mark of affectation or effeminacy to be annoyed at any similar objects or inconveniences.

In addition to the nuisances already enumerated, the open spaces in Bengazi are usually ornamented by pools of stagnant, putrid water; and that which is in the market-place is rendered more particularly offensive, from the circumstance of its being the common receptacle of the offal and blood of the animals which are killed there, and which may truly be said to realize the words of the poet in “making the green one red.” It may readily be imagined, that in the heat of the summer these places are not very wholesome, and they are probably often the causes of fevers, especially during the prevalence of southerly winds. That these sinks of corruption should ever be bathing-places will not perhaps be so easily conceived; but they are nevertheless often used for such purpose; and the children of the town will very frequently adjourn from the dust-heaps already described, to cool themselves (we cannot in conscience say to clean themselves) in the green and red pools here alluded to. With so many objects to attract and encourage them, it is not to be wondered at, that Bengazi is proverbial for flies; and every part of the town, both within and without the houses, may truly be said to swarm with them. Among the various annoyances with which the place abounds, these are, perhaps, the most serious of any; or, at all events, they are those from which it is least possible to escape; there is, in fact, no chance of avoiding them; they follow you everywhere from place to place, settle on every part of the arms, legs, and body, which the heat of the weather obliges you to leave uncovered; creep obstinately into the corners of the eyes, and up the nostrils, into the hollows of the ears, and the corners of the mouth when it is closed, and often fly down the throat, nearly choking you, when it is open; at meals every part of the dishes and their contents are covered as soon as they are produced, and every fluid becomes a trap for as many of these insects as can crowd themselves over its surface. In short, there is literally no riding or walking, no reading or writing, or eating or resting one’s-self, in any part of Bengazi in comfort for them; and if at night they take up their accustomed position on the ceiling, and give place to the fleas and mosquitos, the first dawn of morning finds them on the wing, and all alive to recommence their operations. They are at the same time so watchful, and so quick in their motions, that it is difficult to succeed in killing any of them; we often caught thirty or forty fleas in a morning on turning down the bed-clothes with a little attention, and as many during the day on different parts of our dress, particularly about the legs and ancles; but the whole collection of flies which we could kill in a week would scarcely amount to this number; unless we except those which were caught in the traps which we were usually in the habit of setting for them. All hot climates are more or less subject to these nuisances; but it is probable that no place on earth will be found to abound more in flies than Bengazi; we might perhaps say, that few places could be mentioned where so many of them will at any time be observed.

The situation of Bengazi is, however, much better than so filthy a town may be said to deserve. It is built on the coast, close to the sea, at the extremity of a beautiful fertile plain, extending itself to the foot of a long chain of mountains about fourteen miles distant (in this part) to the south-eastward. Plentiful crops of corn and vegetables are afforded to the town by the cultivated lands in the neighbourhood, and the supplies of beef and mutton are in general very regular and abundant. The harbour of Bengazi appears to have been formerly capable of containing good-sized vessels, and, even in the recollection of some of the present inhabitants, the Bashaw’s ships were accustomed to lay, where now only boats can be accommodated.

At present it can only be entered by small vessels, drawing seven or eight feet water, and that merely in moderate weather. It is well protected from the sea by reefs of rocks, between which the entrance is so narrow as to render a pilot necessary.