“This pharos,” he says, “has not its like in the world for skill of construction or for solidity; since, to say nothing of the fact that it is built of excellent stone of the kind called kedan, the layers of these stones are united by molten lead, and the joints are so adherent that the whole is indissoluble, though the waves of the sea from the north incessantly beat against it. From the ground to the middle gallery or stage the measurement is exactly seventy fathoms, and from this gallery to the summit, twenty-six.[9]
“We ascend to the summit by a staircase constructed in the interior, which is as broad as those ordinarily erected in towers. This staircase terminates at about half-way, and thence the building becomes much narrower. In the interior, and under the staircase, some chambers have been built. Starting from the gallery, the pharos rises to its summit with a continually increasing contraction, until at last it may be folded round by a man’s arms. From this same gallery we recommence our ascent by a flight of steps of much narrower dimensions than the lower staircase: in every part it is pierced with windows to give light to persons making use of it, and to assist them in gaining a proper footing as they ascend.
“This edifice,” adds Edrisi, “is singularly remarkable, as much on account of its height as of its massiveness; it is of exceeding utility, because its fire burns night and day for the guidance of navigators: they are well acquainted with the fire, and steer their course in consequence, for it is visible at the distance of a day’s sail (!). During the night it shines like a star; by day you may distinguish its smoke.”
This latter passage shows that if any better mode of illumination had once been in use, as we are inclined to believe, it had been discontinued, or its secret forgotten, by the degenerate successors of the Alexandrian Greeks.
Edrisi remarks, in language resembling Pliny’s, that from a distance the light of the pharos was so like a star which had risen upon the horizon, that the mariners, mistaking it, directed their prows towards the other coast, and were often wrecked upon the sands of Marmorica.
Montfaucon also records this unfortunate peculiarity, which, however, is not unknown in our own days. More than one of the lighthouses intended to warn the seaman as he approaches a dangerous rock or headland now carries a couple of lights: one at the summit, and one below; that the upper may not be mistaken for a star.[10]
In reference to the Alexandrian pharos, Montfaucon remarks that the stories related by the Arabs and European travellers must be very cautiously examined. For instance: we are told that Sostrates rested its foundations on four huge crab-fish made of glass (grands cancres de verre); a fable so gross, says one Benedictine, that it is not worth the trouble of refuting it, though Isaac Vossius declares it to be recorded in an ancient manuscript which he himself possessed.