Julien's Itinerary.
"We were very near the island of Malta, and we had reason to fear that we might be seen by some English vessel, which could have forced us to enter the harbour; but we encountered none. Our crew was greatly exhausted, and the wind continued to be unfavourable to us. The captain, seeing on his chart an anchorage called Kerkenna, from which we were at no great distance, made sail for it without telling Monsieur, who, seeing that we were approaching that anchorage, became angry at not having been consulted, and said to the captain that he ought to continue his course, having been through worse weather. But we had gone too far to resume our course, and besides, the captain's prudence was highly approved, for that night the wind grew much stronger and the sea very bad. Finding that we were obliged to remain in the anchoring-place four-and-twenty hours longer than was foreseen, Monsieur gave the captain lively marks of his discontent, in spite of the good reasons which the latter gave him.
"We had been a month at sea, and we only wanted seven or eight hours to reach the port of Tunis. Suddenly the wind became so violent that we were obliged to stand out to sea, and we remained three weeks without being able to touch the port. Thereupon Monsieur once more reproached the captain with having wasted thirty-six hours at the anchorage. It was impossible to persuade him that a greater misfortune would have befallen us if the captain had been less foreseeing. The misfortune which I anticipated was to see our provisions diminishing, without knowing when we should arrive."
At last I trod Carthaginian soil. I found the most generous hospitality at the hands of M. and Madame Devoise. Julien describes my host well; he also speaks of the country and the Jews:
"They pray and weep," says he.
An American man-of-war brig gave me a passage on board, and I crossed the lake of Tunis to go to the port.
"On the way," says Julien, "I asked Monsieur if he had taken the gold which he had put into the writing-table in his bed-room; he told me he had forgotten it, and I was obliged to return to Tunis."
I can never keep money in my mind.
When I arrived from Alexandria, we cast anchor opposite the ruins of the city of Hannibal[699]. I looked at them from the deck without guessing what they were. I saw a few Moorish huts, a Mussulman hermitage on the point of a prominent head-land, some sheep grazing among ruins, ruins so unapparent that I could hardly distinguish them from the ground on which they stood: that was Carthage. I visited it before embarking for Europe.
My Itinerary.
"From the top of Byrsa, the eye embraces the ruins of Carthage, which are more numerous than is generally believed: they resemble those of Sparta, having nothing in a good state of preservation, but occupying a considerable space. I saw them in the month of February; the fig-trees, olive-trees, and carobs were already putting out their young leaves; large angelicas and acanthas formed tufts of verdure among the ruins of marble of every colour. In the distance, I turned my gaze over the isthmus, a two-fold sea, far islands, a smiling country-side, bluey lakes, azured mountains; I descried forests, ships, aqueducts, Moorish villages, Mohammedan hermitages, minarets, and the white houses of Tunis. Millions of starlings, gathered into battalions and resembling clouds, flew above my head. Surrounded by the greatest and most touching memories, I thought of Dido[700], of Sophonisba[701], of Hasdrubal's noble spouse[702]; I viewed the vast plains in which the legions of Hannibal, Scipio[703], and Cæsar[704] lie buried; my eyes tried to recognise the site of the Palace of Utica. Alas, the remains of the palace of Tiberius[705] still exist at Capri, and we look in vain at Utica for the spot where stood Cato's[706] house! Lastly, the terrible Vandals, the light Moors passed in turn before my memory, which showed me, as a final picture, St. Louis dying on the ruins of Carthage[707]."
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The ruins of Carthage.