No return came from Tripoli, for the Bey being on ill terms with the Consul, though he promised, he would not send any escort. I and my servants did indeed most rashly attempt to pass the desert inhabited only by ruffians and assassins, the Noile, the Wargummah and many other tribes, at continual war, who pay no sort of acknowledgment to any sovereign, and where the caravan from Morocco to Mecca, which we found near Tripoli, had been defeated and plundered, though they amounted to about 3,000 men.
This enterprise is one of so great a danger that when Younus Bey, prince of Tunis, fled for his life, when the Algerines had murdered his grandfather Ali Bey, and taken his father prisoner, he declared that that passage was the greatest enterprise of his life; yet he was a prince allowed among the first for bravery even to rashness, nor did we escape, for the night of the third day we were attacked by a number of horsemen, and four of our men were killed on the spot. Providence, the prodigious resolution of our little company, and the night, saved the remainder, and we arrived at Tripoli when given over by everybody for lost.
About four days from Tripoli I met the Emir Hadjee, conducting the caravan of pilgrims from Fez and Sus in Morocco, all across Africa to Mecca. He is a middle-aged man, uncle to the present Emperor, of a very uncomely, stupid kind of countenance. His caravan consisted of about 3,000 men, and, as his people said, from 12,000 to 14,000 camels, part loaded with merchandise, part with skins of water, flour and other kinds of food for the maintenance of the Hadjees.
They were a scurvy, disorderly, unarmed pack, and when my horsemen, though but fifteen in number, came up with them in the grey of the morning, they showed great signs of trepidation and were already flying in confusion. When informed who we were, their fears ceased, and after the usual manner of cowards they became extremely insolent.
The inhabitants of that district have in no wise improved during the past century, the very latest account of them we have is given by Captain Mouchez. In a paper which he read before the Académie des Sciences, at Paris, on January 8, 1877, he says that the littoral is extremely dangerous, shelter and ports of refuge do not exist, and when he landed, even for a few hours, to take observations, he found himself surrounded by natives, who exercise the profession of robbery and brigandage on a large scale.
The coast is composed of sandy downs, which stretch inland as far as the eye can range, an absolute desert, without trees or traces of habitation. The beach is strewn with vestiges of wrecks, which have, no doubt, been pillaged and the crews murdered by the nomades who frequent the country, and who recognise neither the Government of Tunis nor the Bey of Tripoli.
‘One day,’ says M. Mouchez, ‘I landed unarmed, with a secretary and an assistant, and had already fixed my instrument, when a large number of Bedouins, on horseback and on foot, appearing from behind the downs, literally fell upon and surrounded us.
‘They first pointed their guns at us to prevent our flight, then approaching, lay hold of me, searched me, and tried to drag me away. This I strongly resisted, and at last made them understand that this violation of the law of nations would be instantly punished, and that my steamer would carry a complaint to the Governor of Tripoli. This had its effect, and they allowed us to go. In the evening we proceeded to Tripoli to claim satisfaction. This was readily granted by the Governor, who was lately a professor at the School of Constantinople; he placed at our disposal a guard of Turkish soldiers, who protected us during our survey of the coast.
‘I never saw anything so extraordinary as the arms of the natives who surrounded us,’ continues M. Mouchez. ‘Some of them had swords apparently of the sixteenth century, beautiful Damascene blades; one took aim at me with a flint gun of great antiquity. I was desirous of purchasing one of these arms, but they did not understand me, and there was no time to be lost in useless talk, for their attitude was by no means reassuring. The Mussulmans of the coast bear no goodwill to the French nation, and do not forgive us the conquest of Algeria.’
At Tripoli we found the Hon. Mr. Frazer, of Lovat, the King’s Consul; he complained heavily to the Bashaw, who excused himself poorly.