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

by Frederick William Beechey; H. W. Beechey

“The first position of the Hesperian gardens” (continues our author) “appears to have been at the western extremity of Libya, then the farthest boundary, upon that side, of ancient knowledge. The spectacle which it often presented, a circuit of blooming verdure amid the desert, was calculated to make a powerful impression on Grecian fancy, and to suggest the idea of quite a terrestrial paradise. It excited also the image of islands, which ever after adhered to these visionary creations. As the first spot became frequented, it was soon stripped of its fabled beauty. So pleasing an idea, however, was not to be easily relinquished. Another place was quickly found for it; and every traveller, as he discovered a new portion of that fertile and beautiful coast, fondly imagined that he had at length arrived at the long-sought-for Islands of the Blest. At length, when the continent had been sought in vain, they were transferred to the ocean beyond, which the original idea of islands rendered an easy step. Those of the Canaries having never been passed, nor even fully explored, continued always to be the Fortunate Islands, not from any peculiar felicity of soil and climate, but merely because distance and imperfect knowledge left full scope to poetical fancy[24]. Hence we find Horace painting their felicity in the most glowing colours, and viewing them as a refuge still left for mortals, from that troubled and imperfect enjoyment which they were doomed to experience in every other portion of the globe.” (Murray’s Account of Africa, vol. i. chap. 1.)

Nothing is more just than the picture of human nature here presented to us by the intelligent writer just quoted; and it must be confessed that the position of the Hesperian gardens has been fixed by different authors in so many parts of the coast of Africa, that we may scarcely hope to reconcile statements so opposite.

The legends connected with these celebrated places are at the same time so wild and extravagant, as well as so discordant with each other, that we might often be tempted to consider the gardens themselves as fabulous and imaginary spots, existing only in the creative brain of the poet and the mythologist, and nowhere to be found in reality.

We should not, however, say, from our view of the subject, that “the variety of position” assigned to the gardens of the Hesperides “is referrible to no precise geographical data:” the details which we have already quoted from Scylax are too minute to be wholly rejected; and the position of the gardens, as laid down by Ptolemy and Pliny, coincides with that assigned to them by Scylax.

We have shewn, at the same time, that the nature of the ground in the neighbourhood of Berenice (or Bengazi) is consistent with the account of Scylax; and that places like those which he has so minutely described are actually to be found in the territory where he has laid down the gardens. This singular formation, so far as we have seen, is also peculiar to the country in question; and we know of no other part of the coast of northern Africa where the same peculiarities of soil are observable. We do not mean to point out any one of these subterranean gardens as that which is described in the passage above quoted from Scylax; for we know of no one which will correspond in point of extent to the garden which this author has mentioned: all those which we saw were considerably less than the fifth of a mile in diameter (the measurement given by Scylax); and the places of this nature which would best agree with the dimensions in question, are now filled with water sufficiently fresh to be drinkable, and take the form of romantic little lakes.

Scarcely any two of the gardens we met with were, however, of the same depth or extent; and we have no reason to conclude that because we saw none which were large enough to be fixed upon for the garden of the Hesperides, as it is described in the statement of Scylax, there is therefore no place of the dimensions required among those which escaped our notice—particularly as the singular formation we allude to continues to the foot of the Cyrenaic chain, which is fourteen miles distant, in the nearest part, from Bengazi. When we consider that the places in question are all of them sunk below the surface of the soil, and that the face of the country in which they are found is overspread with brushwood, and nowhere perfectly level, it will not be thought extraordinary if some of them should have escaped us in a diligent and frequently-repeated search. At any rate, under the circumstances which are already before the reader, it will not be thought a visionary or hastily formed assumption, if we say that the position of these celebrated spots, “long the subject of eager and doubtful inquiry,” may be laid down with some probability in the neighbourhood of the town of Bengazi. The remarkable peculiarities of this part of northern Africa correspond (in our opinion) sufficiently well with the authorities already quoted, to authorize the conclusion we have drawn from an inspection of the place; and to induce us to place the gardens of the Hesperides in some one, or more, of the places described, rather than in any of the Oases of the desert, as suggested by Monsieur Gosselin and others[25]. It seems probable that there were more than one garden of this name; but they could scarcely have been all of them so large as that mentioned by Scylax; and the greater number of those which we were able to discover were considerably smaller in all their dimensions, as we have already stated above.

It has been mentioned that some of the chasms above described have assumed the form of lakes; the sides of which are perpendicular, like those of the gardens, and the water in most of them appears to be very deep. In some of these lakes the water rises nearly to the edge of the precipice which incloses them, and in others is as much as twenty feet below it. They are no doubt much fuller after the rainy season than at other times of the year, and the water is then sweeter than ordinary. Besides these, there are also several subterranean caves in the neighbourhood of Bengazi. One of these, at the depth of about eighty feet from the surface of the plain, contains a large body of fresh water, which is said to run very far into the bowels of the earth, or rather of the rock which overshadows it. On descending into this cave, we found that it widened out into a spacious chamber, the sides of which had evidently been, in many places, shaped with the chisel, and rose perpendicularly to a considerable height. Our progress was soon stopped, as we were advancing into the cave, by the body of water we have mentioned; which, notwithstanding the lights we procured, was scarcely visible through the thick gloom which surrounded us. We found the water shallow at the edge, but it soon became gradually too deep to be practicable; we were also unable to discover any end to it, and a stone thrown as far as we could send it, fell into the water without striking. We had, however, seen enough to excite our curiosity very strongly, and we determined to return, at some early opportunity, with a boat and a good store of torches, intending to go as far along this subterranean stream as the height of the rock would allow us.

On mentioning our visit and our intentions to Bey Halil, he informed us that he had himself paid a visit to the place, in company with a chaous of his suite; and that he had carried with him a small boat in which he embarked with the chaous, and proceeded a considerable distance. They became, at length, afraid of not finding their way back, and put about to return as they came, having found (as he said) on sounding, that the depth of the water was in some parts as much as thirty feet. This account naturally made us more anxious than ever to put our intentions in execution; but no boat could then be found in the harbour sufficiently small for our purpose, and we were obliged to defer our subterranean voyage; determining, however, that if we could not find a portable boat on our return from Cyrene, we would contrive to put together some pieces of timber, and prosecute our researches on a raft, after the example of Sindbad the sailor.

But, alas! who can say that to-morrow is his own?—and who is there who makes the most of to-day? If we had constructed our raft before we moved farther eastward, instead of waiting for the chance of a boat when we came back, we should in all probability have been able to ascertain the extent of this mysterious river. As it was, we were obliged, by circumstances which we could neither control nor foresee, to leave the coast of Africa before we had completed our researches in the city and neighbourhood of Cyrene; and the short time which we had at our command on returning to Bengazi was insufficient (under the pressure of other occupations) for accomplishing this object of our wishes.

The disappointment here alluded to was only one among many others which we experienced, in consequence of our hasty and unexpected return; but it was one which we regretted more, perhaps, than it deserved; for mystery will always add a charm to inquiry, which further investigation might probably remove, but which will continue to preserve its powers of fascination while the uncertainty remains which created it.