The name of this lovely scene is Aggher bi Haroubeh. On a hill to the left, on emerging from the ravine, is seen the Castle of Benigdem, the best preserved of the old forts which are met with everywhere in the Cyrenaica. It is a rectangular oblong building, with two square towers slightly advancing from the line of the wall, in the centres of the longer sides. One of these towers is still in great part perfect, having three stories of windows. The second story is vaulted, and has on each side two windows looking outwards. The walls are built double, of stones carefully squared both within and without, leaving a space filled in with rubble, thus increasing the thickness and strength at little expense. I have remarked that the same method of building is employed in many of the old forts in this neighbourhood, and also further south. On the north side, a low arched gateway, commanded from the tower, seems to have been the only entrance to the fort, which was further defended by a low outwork, built of squared stones, still easily traced. The interior is now so filled with the ruins of fallen walls, that it is impossible to distinguish its arrangement. Hence, I rode on through the hills to another old fortalice of very small dimensions, where I slept. The distance from Maten Ma’as to this place, for which I could learn no name, is eight hours of camel travelling. The tents were pitched among hills of great beauty, covered with wood, overlooking a rich plain, through which runs the lower road from Grennah to Merdj. This we followed the next day; and during ten hours of travelling, the country presented a succession of richly-wooded scenery, frequented by innumerable covies of partridges. This day, five hours after starting, I made a detour to the right through a long winding valley, which leads towards the coast, through the country of the Dirsah Arabs, but did not meet with any ruins of importance. The camel-drivers took advantage of my absence to journey on to a later hour than I usually travelled; the process of pitching the tents and preparing dinner being very much impeded after sunset. They were, however, disappointed in their hopes of reaching water; and we had now travelled two days without finding any. The skins had all been filled; but, during the first day, with the ordinary recklessness of Arabs, they had drunk a large part of our provision, and there would have been none left for the evening, had not my servant taken possession of the last remaining skin, so as to secure it for the evening meal. In consequence of this, there was great suffering from thirst among my followers. The Arabs here are not abstemious, for they drink water in enormous quantities whenever they can get it, and when they cannot thus indulge their thirst, they seem to suffer very much. My own rule in drinking is to take a cup of coffee in the middle of the day, rarely adding a small cup of water, flavoured with raki, to destroy any insects it may contain. I make a practice of not drinking at other times during the journey; and I do this both from finding the advantage of such abstinence, and for the sake of example to the servants, in a country where water is sometimes so precious. The day following there was of course great haste to reach the wells, which the evening before, when I stopped them, the camel-drivers represented as close at hand. I rode on through an open country, anxious to obtain water for the horses, which had not drunk for two days; but it took three hours and a half to reach the Wady el Gharib, at the upper end of which are many wells. When at last I reached them, we had no means of drawing the water; and some Arabs, who were watering their sheep there, absolutely refused, for love or money, according to their own expression, to supply us. They were only five in number; and I had great difficulty in persuading my servant (though he had only the previous evening wounded his right hand so as to make it useless), not to take possession of the well by force. This would have been easy enough, but after my complaints against the marābut at Grennah, I was anxious to preserve a good character for peaceable conduct. It took the camels nearly an hour and a half longer to reach the wells; and not doubting that, on seeing the number of the party, the Arabs would yield us a supply, at least enough for the horses, I possessed my soul in patience in the interval. When at last they came up, I acknowledge that, in my heart, I was not well pleased to see my people quietly submit to be refused accommodation by the Arabs, without taking forcible possession of their cord and bucket; but, true to my system, I kept the Sultan’s peace, and contented myself, when the caravan had moved on, with riding down to them, and assuring them that I should have them punished, having in the meantime found out their names. The Governor of Merdj, on my complaint, promised they should be sent for and punished; and to make sure of his having kept his word, I renewed my complaint, through the English Consul, to the Bey of Benghazi. These Arabs belonged to the tribe of Abid, whom I have already mentioned as notorious for their predatory habits and discourtesy to strangers. From the well we rode on for five hours, in hopes of reaching Merdj that evening; but an hour after sunset, when we had climbed a steep wooded hill, we found that we were still only on the edge of the vast plain thus named. It was already dark; on all sides a hundred fires marked the dwellings of the Bedawin, who encamp here in great numbers for the convenience of the wells, of which there are in all upwards of forty around the castle. I sent a camel for water, but it was midnight before it returned; so that we were in some discomfort, no cooking having been possible, though I found an unhoped for consolation in my nargila, in filling which a servant had stupidly used the last drop of our water. The next morning, starting early, it took the camels four hours to reach the Medina, as the part of the plain on which the newly-erected castle is built, is called. In the maps, two large lakes are marked as existing in this locality, and before us, immediately in front of the castle, lay an immense expanse of clear water, unruffled by a breath of air, and every object on its banks reflected in it, as if in a mirror. It receded as we approached, and at length disappeared altogether; but on turning round, I saw my camels, which followed at a considerable distance, wading up to their knees in the magic fluid. I had often seen the mirage in the Desert, where it is of frequent occurrence, but the deception was much less real. Here, for some time, I had no suspicion that the lake, round which I contemplated a long detour in the hot sun with no pleasant feelings, would vanish on coming nearer. These lakes, which make a formidable appearance on the map, really exist sometimes for years together; they owe their origin entirely to the autumnal or winter rains, and dry up after two or three seasons of drought, such as of the preceding years. On approaching the castle, in front of which lie the greater number of the wells, the scene presented to us was the most primitively pastoral I had ever witnessed. Immense herds and flocks, collected in groups, covered a very large space, while boys and women were busily engaged in drawing water, which they poured into skins stretched on hoops, for the cattle to drink from. Many short trunks of columns are placed near each other triangularly, so as to support the edges of the hoops, while the skins form a basin. The sun was very hot, and the earth here is of a red colour; and, though not yet midday, the air, from these causes, seemed to have that warm tone which we admire in some of Both’s evening landscapes.
I rode at once to the castle, after procuring water for my horses from one of the fair Rebeccas at the wells, and was very kindly received by the Kehia or Governor. The ill-lighted, cool council-room to which he conducted me, empty of everything but the divan at one end, was most refreshing after exposure to the fiery heat of the plain. Dinner was almost immediately afterwards served, and I sat down with him, the commandant of the few soldiers stationed here, and half-a-dozen Arabs, whom he summoned by name from the door. When dinner had been dispatched, the only term applicable to Arab eating, I remarked a custom which had on other occasions struck me. Of those who had dipped their hands in the same dishes with us, all went out after washing except my host, the commandant, and one of the Arabs, who was specially invited to stay: after their departure coffee was served. I remember having heard a story from one of the most spiritual of my friends, which is applicable to the case in point. Several years ago he spent some time at one of the smaller German courts, where the number of the rules of etiquette is in the inverse ratio to the numbers of the population. For many days one of his neighbours at dinner—a most agreeable and well-informed man—regularly left the room when the rôti was served, making a low bow in rising from his place. His departure did not at first attract my friend’s attention, but as the same scene occurred daily, he at length turned to his other neighbour and asked him the meaning of it; expecting to hear that the man had an aversion to roast meat, such as some people have to cats. The answer was simply, “Herr N. ist nicht bratenfähig;” that is, Herr N. may sup his soup, and enjoy the entrées and relevés, but he is not well born enough to partake of roast beef in this company. Thus any Arab may with propriety enjoy the Bey’s good dinner, but he must not hope to drink his coffee after it. A similar custom seems once to have existed in England. In Shadwell’s “Lancashire Witches,” Sir Timothy says to his uncle, “What a murrain do we keep you for, but to sit at the lower end of the board at meals, rise, make a leg, and take away your plate at second course.”
The site of the castle, surrounded by many fragments of ancient buildings, is that of Barca, daughter and rival of Cyrene, and even under the Arab domination (long after the parent city was a heap of ruins), a flourishing town. The ground is literally strewn with fragments of small columns, the ruins of the Saracenic city, and the line of its walls is still distinctly traceable. The castle, which was only begun a year ago, on the site of the ancient citadel, is built of ancient materials dug up on the spot. Many capitals of columns, of debased Greek workmanship, and many entire columns, have been found in digging out materials for its construction, but nothing dating even as far back as the time of the Ptolemies. I found the base of a column, of white marble, lying among the rubbish, which had formerly been a cube, having on four of its sides Greek inscriptions. Judging from the form of the letters which remain, I should suppose them to be of about the first century of our era; but it was not possible to decipher the meaning of the inscription, as each line was more than half effaced on the side which has been turned downwards, and only single letters of each line remained on two other sides. In its present condition it may be of the fourth or fifth century. Cufic inscriptions are not unfrequently discovered here; one, lately found, had been placed above the door of the council-room, but was so thickly whitewashed as to be quite illegible. Two capitals of columns, in white marble, with the Moslem profession of faith beautifully inscribed round each in raised flowered letters, had just been built into the sides of the minbar of a mosque which the Kehia is building, one of the capitals being turned upside down. He begged me to go to see the progress of the work, to assure him, by means of the compass, if the Kibleh was rightly placed, and this gave me an opportunity of seeing the simple, or rather rude, fashion in which the light arches are thrown from pillar to pillar. There was no scaffolding used beyond two planks for the mason to stand on, neither was there any wooden centering, but the stones, cut to the proper shape, were, one after another, handed up to the mason, who secured them in their places with cement; a few loose stones were made to support them: the arch being thus gradually built up from each side, the keystone was at last added, and then the planks were immediately removed, the arch being considered solid enough to require no further care. The arches were pointed, and each composed of eleven or thirteen stones. In another building, intended for an oil-press, I found a large circular arch, twenty feet in width, in process of erection. Here a long board had been run across the breadth of the building; in its centre a nail served as a pivot for a long strip of pointed wood, by which the mason decided the position of each stone as he placed it. There were several small houses in progress, destined to form the nucleus of a town, which the Kehia hopes to see rebuilt. This was the only place in the whole country where I had seen anything like enterprise. The Kehia is a clever man, and, in conjunction with the Bey of Benghazi, whose dependant he is, he had undertaken these works in hopes of making a profitable speculation out of the oil of the uncultivated olive trees in the neighbourhood. It was with a sincere wish for his success, which cannot fail to be followed by increased industry and gradual civilisation of the district, that I took leave of him, having spent two days in the Medina, during both of which the hot south wind had blown with great force, raising clouds of red dust. It was the first time I had experienced this wind in the Cyrenaica.
CHAPTER XI.
Tomb of a Ptolemy. — Unequal Taxation. — What a Wife costs. — Ruins of Tolmeta. — Wall around Tancra. — Good State of the Ruins. — The Rains. — Arab Tents. — Return to Benghazi.
October 16th.—Right glad to escape the furnace-like blasts which swept, stifling, over the plain of Merdj, I started, though late in the afternoon, on the way to Tolmeta. The camel drivers, who had been furnished to me at Grennah by Abou Bekr, in addition to their ignorance of the road, proved themselves the most unmanageable beings I had yet met with; having complained of them to the Kehia, he gave them an admonition, and also provided me with an Arab of the country, a soi-disant relation, to conduct me on my way.
It took three hours in a north-east direction to reach the edge of the plain, when, night coming on, I encamped, and continued the journey the following morning. There are two ravines which lead towards Tolmeta, of which we took the one to the west, called Wady Shebbah; this route is rather the longer of the two, but affords an easy descent, which, to travellers with heavily-laden camels, is a consideration of no little moment. The other descent was called by my conductor Wady Hambes, or Hambesh. It is described by Beechey as very beautiful, and, being more difficult, its scenery is probably grander than that of the route followed by me, which is rather a pass than a ravine, running over long low hills until it gradually reaches the level of the sea. On the shore, nearly opposite its débouché, is a group of rocks, and among them a well with brackish water, where we found many goats, with their attendants. From this, riding eastward, we came to another well, and then to a third in the ruins of a fortalice, which contains the only sweet water in the neighbourhood. Having filled our water-bottles, we went on to a large square monument, supposed to be the tomb of one of the Ptolemies who reigned in this country; the monument is visible to a great distance out at sea. Built on a square base of rock, it presents a noble mass, and has kindled the enthusiasm of former visitors; but, to my eye, excepting for its greater dimensions, it seemed in architectural beauty inferior to many I have seen elsewhere in this country. The triangular entrance, on the side opposite to the hills, is remarkable from its resemblance to that of the Great Pyramid. Near this are many large excavated tombs, one of which is remarkable, from the fact that the rock out of which it is fashioned has been cut away all round, and thus a monolithic monument, in the truest sense, produced. It took seven and a half hours in all from Merdj to this point, where I stayed for upwards of an hour, in the useful, or at least necessary, employment of bargaining for sheep, a flock of which was drinking at a pool in front of the large tower. All bargains are difficult negotiations in this country, the Arabs often refusing to sell at a price less than double the market value of their merchandise: they are well acquainted with the laudable custom of making strangers pay their way. The price of sheep appeared to have gradually risen since I came into the country; the first I bought cost me about five shillings, and those I bought here more than double that sum. For a party of six people I found that, with economy, a sheep would last three days, if eked out with a not inconsiderable supply of rice and biscuits for the Arabs, who eat voraciously.
With my new friend, Abd-el-Kader Waled Ali, I had much curious conversation, as I found him more communicative than the greater part of his countrymen. He is of the wealthier class, and lives in the country beyond Labiar. He complained, and I believe with justice (for every one I have spoken with on the subject confirmed what he said), of the unequal manner in which the taxes are levied, the miri for each naga varying in different tribes from five to six hundred piastres. The naga, like the pound sterling, is an imaginary unit, consisting of ten camels, or twenty oxen, or a hundred sheep or goats. Each tribe pays tribute for a certain number of nagas, according to a census made some 150 years ago; the Sheikh being responsible for its partition among the members of his tribe, and its collection. It is easy to understand that with such a system the tax falls very heavily on those tribes which from war or other causes have sunk in importance in this lapse of time; whilst, on the other hand, those which have grown wealthy pay an insignificant sum: thus a tribe rated at a hundred nagas, and which has now only twenty, pays for each naga five times the sum it was originally taxed at; while those whose wealth has increased from a hundred to a thousand, pay for each only a fiftieth part of what their less fortunate neighbours are charged. Ignorant in book learning, the Arabs, aided by their rosaries, are no mean proficients in arithmetic; and their applications for redress are as incessant as fruitless. From what I have seen of the country a spirit of discontent is universal—the Arabs regret their old independent pasha; and I think the arrival of any Government, Moslem or even Christian—so only not the Sultan’s—would be hailed with general satisfaction.
Abd-el-Kader is married, and I took down his account of the price he paid for his wife. To her father he gave thirteen sheep, valued at two dollars and a half each, with a hundred dollars in cash; and to the lady herself, a pair of silver bracelets (souar or debalg), weighing thirty-five dollars, dress-stuffs to the same amount, furniture, carpets, &c., to the value of fifty dollars; these, with some other expenses, made the cost of his wedding amount in all to three hundred dollars. He confirmed to me the truth of an Arab custom, which I had before heard of from others, that of giving to the mother, of the bride a sum varying from a hundred to five hundred piastres, as the price of the milk with which she had suckled her daughter. The sheep and the money are not returned in any shape, as, on her father’s death, his wife’s brother succeeds to them, and on his death the next male heir. “Well,” I said, “you will acknowledge that here you literally buy your wife?”—to which he retorted, “Of course we do; while in Europe it is the wife who buys her husband; we are up to that;” and he chuckled, and seemed to think he had paid me off with interest.