Travels in the footsteps of Bruce in Algeria and Tunis

CHAPTER VIII.

Lambese, Lambæsis, or Lambæsitanorum Colonia, is mentioned in the Itinerary of Antonine,[68] in the Tables of Peutinger, by Ptolemy,[69] St. Augustine[70] and St. Cyprian.[71]

It was one of the most important cities in the interior of Numidia, belonging to the Massylii, and was in Roman times the head-quarters of the Third Legion, Augusta, which was stationed here for nearly three centuries, and was the only one located in Africa. It was the great military centre from which columns were despatched to maintain order or to suppress insurrection. It covered, or protected, the whole of Northern Numidia, and permitted Roman colonisation to attain a degree of importance unequalled in any other province of North Africa.

At present very few ruins remain to bear witness to its former magnificence, and these are by no means in the best style of art. Indeed, it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that, valuable as the place undoubtedly was as a military position, the importance of its public buildings has been greatly exaggerated.

The principal ruin here, and the only one figured by Bruce, is that called the Prætorium. He made a finished drawing, which he states to be in the collection of the King; the only one in the Kinnaird collection is a rough pencil outline, with sketches of architectural details and memoranda of measurements. This is the less to be regretted, as photographs of it are in the hands of every traveller who visits Lambessa.

It is a large rectangular edifice, 92 feet long, 66 broad and 49 high. The principal façade to the south had a splendid peristyle, having massive Ionic columns in front, which corresponded with Corinthian pilasters engaged in the walls. This extended only to half the height of the wall, leaving a second storey externally, but there is no trace of this in the inside, which is undivided in height. The other sides also are decorated with detached columns, corresponding to the pilasters of the lower storey, the cornice turning round and forming the entablature. On the north side there are three detached columns on each side of the principal entrance, between which and the smaller doors is a niche to contain statuary. All the keystones are sculptured, but not very artistically. That over the principal gate bears a basso-relievo of a standard, with the inscription ‘Legio tertia Augusta.’ The interior forms a vast hall; on each side there is one large and two smaller doors, and above the central and larger ones another arched opening, used probably as a window. The walls are strengthened interiorly with pilasters, on which are engaged columns; still it appears doubtful whether the building ever was covered otherwise than by a velarium.

The interior has now been converted into a museum, wherein are collected various objects of antiquity which have been discovered in the vicinity; the best of these, however, have been sent to the museum of the Louvre at Paris.

Close to the Prætorium is a small triumphal arch tolerably entire, but of an exceedingly depraved style of art; there are two niches on each side, but without any archivoltes.

The Temple of Æsculapius, mentioned by Bruce, is at some little distance west of the Prætorium: only one of its columns now remains in place. An inscription stated that this temple was constructed by order of Marcus Aurelius, and was dedicated to Æsculapius and to Health.

At Lambessa we turned to the right, and entered the mountains south of the village. After a short ride through a forest of evergreen oak we reached the plateau on the top of Djebel Asker, nearly 6,000 feet above the level of the sea; even at this advanced season there were patches of snow, and during the winter the Pass must frequently be impracticable. At the further side of this is a remarkable gorge, like a huge barrier, in which an opening gives access to the richly wooded valley of Ti-Farasain. At the bottom flows a large stream, and under the shade of some fine old trees by its banks we halted to take our midday meal. It was indeed a lovely spot, but we found so many such that our stock of adjectives soon became exhausted. The time occupied in riding to this place from Batna was four hours, exclusive of our delay at Lambessa.

Beyond this the oak forests continue for some distance, with occasional clearings, in which are seen the foundations of Roman buildings, with here and there a few tumulary inscriptions. At Ez-Zikak the cedars commence, at an elevation of 5,300 feet, and cover an immense tract of mountain. They have remained hitherto almost untouched, and might supply an unlimited quantity of timber for use at Batna. The forest greatly requires thinning, the mature trees being too crowded; but one sees with regret here, as indeed almost everywhere in Algeria, the total absence of young trees; they appear now-a-days to be destroyed by the sheep and goats as soon as the seed germinates. It is a difficult question to decide, whether to protect the young trees by prohibiting the natives from introducing sheep and goats into the forests, or to protect the people who, in a country where there is so little space for agriculture, can hardly live without their flocks, and who have been a pastoral race from the earliest ages.

After quitting the region of forests the road passes over a rather sterile plateau; on the left is a remarkable chain of naked limestone rocks called Djebel Berd, the Cold Mountain; on the right the distant hills are thickly wooded, but the intermediate country is treeless. Pasturage however is good and there are patches of cultivation; at the end of April the corn was not more than two or three inches high. After passing this the road descends rapidly, and, winding amongst small hills and valleys, soon reaches the bed of the river on which El-Arbäa is situated.

It was almost dark when we arrived, but we had just light enough to descend the difficult path which gives access to the village. The military train mules, however, were less accustomed to mountain travelling than our native beasts, and lingered far behind. We were welcomed by the notables of the village, and conducted to a plateau a little above the bank of the stream, large enough to contain two or three tents. One or two Arab tents had been pitched for our accommodation, and carpeted in the most tempting manner; but alas! we soon found out the one great scourge of this lovely country, though its best protection against the intrusion of inquisitive tourists—the armies of fleas by which each village is defended. To sleep there was impossible; it was getting late, and still we saw nothing of our baggage, and we feared that the unfortunate tringlots who had charge of it would never find their way unaided. The Sheikh however was equal to the occasion; he despatched forty or fifty of his people with flambeaux of diss grass to search for the missing attendants, who but for this assistance, would never have reached us that night. A light repast was all we cared for, but a more substantial one, with the usual sheep roasted whole, was provided for our attendants. I recommend anyone who retains enough of his pristine innocence still to like sweets to try a dinner of walnuts dipped in honey and washed down by huge bowls of fresh milk.

It is difficult, without the aid of the pencil, to give any idea of this extraordinary village, and one hardly knows whether most to admire its strange and picturesque aspect, or the skill with which the position has been chosen and improved for purposes of defence.

A deep and narrow ravine runs north-east and south-west, through which flows a small river. On the right bank the hill rises almost perpendicularly to a height of about 700 feet. It is principally blue marl, and as is frequently the case with this formation, the sky line is deeply cut and serrated in the most fantastic manner, contrasting strangely with the level crests of the adjacent hills. The strata have been upheaved into an almost vertical position, so that in some places the face of the hill resembles parallel lines of walls, as at the Portes-de-fer; in others it is scored and perforated, exhibiting the most beautiful effects of light and shadow.

From the terrace on which our tents were pitched a mound rises towards the middle of the cliff. This has been formed by the detritus of the rocks above, and on this the village is built. The houses rise one above another in a series of steps, the roof of one being on a level with the floor of that above it, and actually forms a terrace to it, or part of the public road. All the houses in the Aures are built of small stones and mud, the walls being strengthened by longitudinal layers of timber inserted in the masonry every few courses. The roofs are of Thuya wood rafters, supported at intervals by posts and post plates, and covered with a thick cement of mud and chopped straw, which becomes nearly as hard as stone.

The flocks live on terms of the greatest harmony with the owners, and seem to occupy the better portion of their houses. It is very pleasant to see them returning in the evening from their pasture over the rustic bridge which crosses the river, and winding up amongst the steep lanes which separate the houses, led by the young girls of the family, nearly always of singular beauty and never veiled.

In the morning before starting we went through many of the houses, where we were objects of far greater curiosity to the villagers than they were to us. They may have seen officers of the Bureau Arabe or stray French travellers, but I doubt whether any European ladies had been there before.

On the 28th we started for Menäa shortly after sunrise. The distance is about 16 miles and occupied us five hours of actual travel. We crossed Djebel Tirmis to the south-east, by an elevated pass 5,760 feet above the sea, connecting the valleys of El-Erbäa and Bou Zeina. On each side are the remains of a Roman tower, built to defend this important position. The valley of Bou Zeina is richly cultivated at the bottom wherever the ground is capable of irrigation by the stream, but the upper parts of the hills are bare and stony. After passing the village of Murkäa on the left bank the character of the valley began to change; the limestone strata, which had been running parallel to our route like paved Roman roads, give place to white marble of dazzling brightness, cropping up among the red rocks which lie between; soon the ground becomes almost entirely white, which gives its name to the next village, El-Beidha, on the left of the road. A very short distance beyond is Takoost, pronounced Tagoost, a more important village, where we stopped for a short time, and were entertained to an excellent breakfast by the Khalifa. The ladies of the household did not appear openly, but they were very glad indeed to receive us in their private apartments, and had no objection to allow their comely faces to be seen even by male visitors.

This part of the country is of singular interest from a geological point of view. The high bare mountains to the north-west are stratified like the most beautifully striated agate; behind the village the rock resembles a pavement of huge cubical blocks of stone laid at an angle of forty-five degrees. Many have been detached from their setting, and have rolled down to the village. The deception was so perfect that at first sight we mistook it for Roman masonry of an unusually massive character.

The cultivation round all these villages is very similar, small square patches of corn-land forming perfectly level terraces, irrigated by canals derived from the river which flows along the bottom of the valley. They rise one above another as high as the water can be made to reach them, and are dotted over with, or sometimes bordered by fruit trees, which grow in great abundance and variety. We noticed apples, pears, peaches, apricots, figs, walnuts, and generally all the fruits of temperate countries, and such tropical ones as can stand the cold of winter, like the pomegranate. After passing Tagoost the road crosses the Bou Zeina, here called the Oued el-Ahmar, or Red River, from the prevailing colour of the hills on its left bank, and winds up the chain of mountains separating it from the Oued Abdi. The road is very wild and picturesque, and is bordered on the right by a steep precipice, sometimes a thousand feet in vertical descent. The rock is a conglomerate, or pudding-stone, of large water-worn pebbles, cemented together by a calcareous paste.

Shortly after crossing the summit of this hill the village of Menäa appeared in sight, and in a very short time we found ourselves under the hospitable roof of Si Mohammed bin Abbas, the Kaid of the Aures. It is by no means as an empty term of compliment that I style him hospitable; he is a very grand specimen of Arab nobility, his ancestors being from Morocco, and not of Chawi descent. Every day he is said to feed 200 people, and he even keeps a French cook, the better to entertain the few Europeans who pass through his country. He has many houses in various parts of the Aures. That at Menäa is his principal one, and is almost a small village, containing apartments for himself and family, rooms for his dependants, a Zaouia, within which the family are interred, and spacious and comfortable rooms for the reception of guests. He had gone to Batna to meet the Governor-General, but his son, a noble-looking young fellow of about twenty, did the honours of his house with the most perfect grace. Our table was luxuriously supplied, even with choice wines, and in the evening an exhibition of dancing girls was got up for our entertainment. The Arabs seemed to enjoy it mightily and praised the principal performer as the most celebrated dancer in the country, but I don’t think we appreciated it as we ought, and found the monotony of the cadence, and the constant repetition of the same step, very wearisome.

Menäa is picturesquely situated on the slope of a low hill at the confluence of the Bou Zeina and the Oued Abdi. The streets are extremely filthy, but every year this manure is carefully collected, and employed in cultivation. There are no Roman remains of any interest, but fragments of sculpture and tombstones are found in abundance, generally built into the angles of the houses, while frusta of columns have been hollowed out into coffee mortars, and stone coffins utilised as drinking troughs.

The land about Menäa is highly cultivated in small fields, perfectly level, to admit of irrigation. They are arranged in terraces, which, according to tradition, have existed since the Roman epoch. Certainly, if they were constructed then, they have been kept in admirable repair by this industrious people. Land fetches a high price, and as much as 15,000 francs per hectare, or 240l. an acre, has been paid for ground capable of easy irrigation. Date trees begin to appear here and add a very pleasing feature to the landscape; the fruit, however, rarely ripens, and is never good.

Near this village, and indeed at every other in the Aures, are the remains of watch-towers used in former times as posts of observation; now that the French occupation has ensured the tranquillity of the country these have been allowed to fall into picturesque decay.

CHAPTER IX.

April 29.—To-day we commenced our ascent of the Oued Abdi on the right bank of the stream.[72] The scenery was very grand; above the road towered the bleak and arid mountains over which we had passed the day before; on the left bank, behind the first chain of hills, is the elevated range of Djebel Lazarak, of which the two most prominent peaks are named Ti-Keshwain. At about a mile and a quarter from Menäa are the remains of an old Berber town called Es-Sook, or the market, built after the Roman period, and said at one time to have had great commercial dealings with Tunis, whence its name. A short distance beyond, the valley becomes constricted to a very narrow pass, guarded by an old tower occupying a commanding position, with quite the aspect of a castle on the Rhine. This is the boundary of the Oulad Abdi in this direction; immediately beyond it the valley widens out again, and the ground becomes more fertile and better cultivated. It would be impossible for the most civilised nation to turn their land to better account than this rude and secluded people. They rarely leave their own villages, and hardly ever the district in which they were born. I met a sheikh at one village who had occupied his present office for twenty-five years, and in all that time he had only been five times to Batna and never anywhere else. All along the route and generally throughout the Aures we observed small piles of stone, often only two or three in number, placed from distance to distance on the hill sides or on the level ground; these mark the places which the owner wishes to reserve as pasturage for his own use, and his rights so designated are scrupulously respected. The road passes several villages on either bank of the river, all picturesquely situated high up on the bank, built of stone like El-Arbäa and generally with a quaint and very conspicuous minaret. The bed of the river is broad, although, owing to so much water being consumed in irrigation, it generally contains but little during the summer season; in winter it is a wide and impetuous torrent.

We stopped for breakfast at Nowader Ahmama, about 7½ miles from Menäa. The Kaid’s son had sent on the French cook to make preparations, and he had himself accompanied us, so we had only to take the good things provided for us and be thankful.

Instead of continuing to ascend the river we made a détour, so as to visit the mercury mines of Taghit, for which an English company was then in treaty. We struck off the course of the river in a south-easterly direction, through scenery closely resembling what is seen at the Portes-de-fer, on the route between Algiers and Constantine. The rocks, through which the Oued Taghit forces its way, are of sandstone alternating with argillaceous schist; the strata are contorted in a remarkable manner and sometimes upheaved to a vertical position. In many places the softer strata have been worn away by the action of water, leaving the harder rocks standing upright in the voids thus caused; this gives to the hills a most extraordinary appearance, which cannot better be described than by comparing them to the side-scenes of a theatre. After passing through about two miles of this wild scenery, the valley opens out, cultivation again commences, and soon the small village of Taghit is reached.

The mines are situated quite close to the village and have long been known to the natives, who used to work them for the sake of the lead, throwing the more valuable cinnabar on one side as useless. This ore is said to be exceedingly rich, more so than that of Mexico or of El-Maden in Spain. I saw specimens, which contained 30 per cent. of pure mercury, and the average is said to be 6 per cent., which would make the value of the ore about 50l. a ton. The galena also is rich, but whether it could be worked to advantage in such a remote district is doubtful, at least until the means of communication are improved.

At Taghit is the tomb of Sidi bel-Khair, the great Saint of the Oulad Abdi; the height of the village is 4,350 feet above the sea. Here, again, we got an excellent repast, prepared by our friend’s cook, with abundance of Bordeaux and Champagne, and we were joined by the superintendent of the mine, an engineer from the school of St. Etienne, who most obligingly showed us all over his works.

April 30.—From the mines the Oued Abdi had to be regained, and the shortest though not the easiest way was over a pass in a steep mountain called Tizi-Zijan, about 5,780 feet above the sea, from which an admirable idea is obtained of the successive chains of mountains forming the Aures range. The descent to Theniet el-Abid on the left bank of the river was so steep, that we could hardly keep our saddles on the mules’ backs; they were perpetually slipping over their heads, and we found that the simplest and most expeditious plan was to walk.

Here we rested during the mid-day heat, and as usual found that our friend the cook had started some hours before us, and had prepared one of those marvellous breakfasts for which he had become so celebrated; he was most solicitous for our comfort, and never served a meal without begging us to ask for anything more that we might require, as his master never would pardon him if we had any want ungratified in his territory.

We passed several other villages after leaving this place, one of which was Bou Gharara, which had lately been destroyed by an inundation, but which was then being rebuilt in a very superior style a little further from the river, and passing this came to El-Bali, where we encamped for the night. Our day’s journey was only 12½ miles, and occupied four hours.

El-Bali is on the left bank of the river, directly opposite to Djebel Mahmel, the ancient Mampsurus, the second highest peak in Algeria, only 23 feet lower than Djebel Chellia. The village itself is nearly 5,000 feet above the sea. We strolled about before dinner, purchasing native ornaments and admiring the beauty of the women and children. One dear little child, daughter of the Sheikh, quite attached herself to our party, and accompanied us to the tents; she took with the utmost solemnity, and in the most dignified manner, all the sweets and little presents we gave her; but nothing would induce her to taste anything; she would hardly even speak to us, but she devoured us with her eyes, and cried when she had to go away.

The women of the Aures, as I have said, never veil or conceal their faces; their dress is very similar to that of the Arab of the south; the colours chosen generally two shades of blue or other subdued tints. They disfigure themselves very much by wearing enormous circular rings on the upper edge of their ears, which seem as if they would tear that organ off the head; indeed, some such effect is not unfrequently produced, and to guard against it they support their ears by strings tied to the upper part of the head-dress. They also wear numerous and massive bracelets and anklets of elegant design, similar to those used by the Kabyles, and their garments seem to be held together by large brooches, or pins with immense heads, of the pattern which we style ‘the Maid of Norway’ pin. I am sorry to say that these unsophisticated mountain maidens knew perfectly well how to sell us, as massive silver, ornaments which we subsequently discovered to be made of lead, with a very thin coating of the more precious metal.

The young lads of the village are as sturdy little fellows as one could meet anywhere, with clean and muscular limbs, of bold and independent carriage, and with none of that shrinking timidity, which makes the children of an Arab village retreat behind the shelter of their dogs at the approach of a Roumi.

The inevitable dhiffa was, of course, awaiting us here; we had always to get through two daily; there was a strong family resemblance between them all, the staple dishes being the same, a sheep roasted whole, and piles of couscousou, washed down by beakers of milk; but the little additions, petits plats, and European delicacies such as wine, &c., depended on the amount of civilisation of our host for the time being. The roasted sheep is a dish worthy of introduction into the most civilised society; the animal is skinned and cleaned within a few moments of his death; a stake six feet long is passed through his body, entering at the mouth, and a large fire having been prepared beforehand and allowed to subside into a state of hot embers without flame, the animal is laid across it, supported on two posts, constantly turned round, and basted with butter till sufficiently cooked; it is then served up by the stake being stuck upright in the earth, or supported transversely on big stones; and then it is consumed with the aid only of Nature’s knives and forks. It requires some little education to know exactly where to search for the best morsels, but our hosts were always courteous enough to tear these off and present them to us.

Couscousou well prepared is by no means a dish to be despised; the raw material is simply the semolina of hard wheat, the grains of which are large, carefully sifted from the flour, and prepared in a peculiar manner by the ladies of the household, who roll it about and turn it over with their hands in large wooden dishes. When this has to be cooked it is placed in a small earthen dish pierced with holes, on the top of another in which a soup of meat and vegetables is prepared. The steam causes the grain to swell and soften, without rendering it sodden. When the couscousou is sufficiently cooked it is placed in a large flat dish, the soup highly seasoned with red pepper, and thus called mergäa, is poured over it, the meat or fowls and vegetables, if any are procurable, are placed on the top, perhaps with a morsel of butter; and thus prepared, in the tent of an Arab of rank and means, it is as palatable a dish as a hungry traveller need ever desire to have set before him. Sometimes, instead of the meat and soup, sugar or honey, raisins and milk are substituted. The only thing I can suggest as better than either of them is both in succession.

When the guests have finished their repast, the dishes are passed on to the higher retainers, and so on to the various ranks and classes till nothing remains.

On the morning of May 1, we left El-Bali for the Oued Taga; we had to cross the river at the village, above which the valley opens out to a wide stretch of corn-land. The difference between the state of the crops in different parts of the Aures is very remarkable; it is no unusual thing to see the harvest taking place at the lowest part of the Oued Abdi, the corn green at Menäa, less and less advanced as one ascends, and ploughing going on at some of the highest places. When we were at Menäa the corn was in the ear, and here it had barely germinated.

Gigantic thuyas (Callitris quadrivalvis) and junipers (Juniperus macrocarpa) are met with here. We saw some whose trunks were more than 3 feet in diameter.

The last village we met with was Oulad Azooz, on the right bank, near some rather extensive foundations of Roman buildings.

All along our course we had frequently passed through some villages and in front of others; and although we could not remain long enough to alight from our mules, the Sheikhs never failed to come out arrayed in their official scarlet bernouses to welcome us, and bid us God-speed. I cannot call to mind a sulky look, or an unamiable action during all the time we travelled in these mountains.

Shortly after passing the last village, we saw the principal source of the Oued Abdi in a defile which turns the east flank of Djebel Mahmel. The bottom of the pass has an altitude of 5,837 feet above the sea. Its name is Theniet er-Ressas, or pass of lead, from its extreme cold in winter, which is supposed to kill as surely as lead. It is quite impassable during several months in the year, but when we visited it there were only a few patches of snow visible on Mahmel, which rises above it.

After crossing this and several other valleys, which radiate from the extremity of Mahmel, we came to the luxuriant and well-watered plain of Laradam, 5,188 feet above the sea. It contains about 3,500 acres of land capable of irrigation, and is surrounded on all sides by sterile hills covered with huge blocks of stone. The road winds up one of these, and from a pass at its summit, called Theniet Ain-esh-Shair (pass of the spring of barley), we had our first view of Djebel Chellia, now as bare of snow as Mahmel. The valley of Taga is seen on the left stretching far away towards Timegad. On the top of the mountain we noticed two gigantic frusta of Roman columns, 4½ feet in diameter and nearly as much in height. They were probably cut on the spot and intended to be transported elsewhere.

In the valley below is a handsome stone house belonging to the Kaid of the Aures, who had been vicariously our host since we arrived at Menäa. It is fitted up with every comfort—much more, I believe, out of consideration for his friends than for his own use. We not only found him at Taga, but General Dastugue and his staff also, and Si Bou-Dhiaf, the Kaid of Timegad, into whose territories we were about to enter. We spent a delightful day here in company with those good friends, narrating our experiences in the Aures, and planning excursions to the desert with the General next autumn, which alas! could never be realised.

Taga is 3,800 feet above the sea, and has always a pleasant climate, even in summer; it is only an easy morning’s ride from Batna, and it is quite practicable in fine weather to do the journey by carriage in four hours. We observed here a fine stone coffin, used as a drinking trough, and numerous foundations attesting the extent of Roman occupation in this direction. At Chouchat er-Ramel, to the south-west and close to the Bordj, are a considerable number of megalithic tombs similar to those of Foum Kosentina, which will presently be described.

CHAPTER X.

Our new host is, perhaps, the best known of all the chiefs of the Aures, owing to the proximity of his principal residence to Batna. He worthily bears his ancestral name of Bou-Dhiaf, father of guests. His hospitality is unbounded, and he has a very cunning taste in Bordeaux—a little Mohammedan peccadillo, which we certainly were not called on to condemn. He is of a very ancient family, and, probably not without reason, boasts of his Roman descent. It is one of his ancestors to whom Peyssonnel[73] alludes under the name of Sistera (Si-Sedira).

His official title is Kaid of the Oulad Daood, or of Touaba. The ride from Oued Taga to Timegad is quite a short one of about three hours, through a fertile country covered with Roman remains; the direct distance from Batna is not more than thirteen miles. We found our camp pitched in the very centre of the ruined city, which enabled us to devote every hour of our stay there to its examination. Our host remained continually with us, and we found him a most intelligent and genial companion.

Before proceeding with my own observations respecting this most interesting place, I will quote what Bruce says on the subject:—

The ancient city of Thamugas was situated at the intersection of six Roman roads. Two went through Lambæsis in the direction of Sitifis, a third to Diana Veteranorum (the modern Zana), two more to Theveste (Tebessa) by Mascula (Ain Khenchla), and a sixth northwards to Cirta (Constantine).

It appears to have been of greater importance than Lambæsis; its population was as great, if not greater, to judge by the size of its public buildings, especially the theatre and the area covered by its remains, while its architecture is undoubtedly older and purer. There is nothing at Lambessa to equal the triumphal arch here.

The explanation of this probably is that Lambæsis was the great military station of the country, and that Thamugas was rather the centre of commercial and agricultural activity.

It is mentioned by Ptolemy under the name of Thanutada; in the Itinerary of Antoninus as Tamugadi, and it occurs in various inscriptions as Thamugas. It is elsewhere described as Colonia Marciana Trajana Thamugas, and Colonia Ulpia Thamugas, and on an inscription still in perfect preservation near the forum there is an allusion to the thirtieth legion, Ulpia, and a celebration of the victories of Trajan over the Parthians.

From this M. Léon Renier concludes, that the Emperor wishing to recompense the veterans of the thirtieth legion, Ulpia Victrix, for their participation in the war against the Parthians, established them at Timegad, not only as being a vast and fertile country, but a position of great military importance, from which they might be able to suppress the turbulence of the neighbouring mountaineers.

It is mentioned in the Acts of Saint Mammarius,[75] and in the Theodosian Code.[76] It subsequently became the great focus of religious agitation during the fourth century. Its bishop, Optatus, was considered as the head of the Donatists; he attached himself to the fortunes of Count Gildon in his revolt against the Emperor Honorius. By means of his soldiery, the Bishop was enabled to exercise great cruelty against the Catholics of his neighbourhood, until in 398 he was involved in his patron’s ruin, and died in prison. St. Augustine, who often alludes to Gildon, says that during ten years Africa trembled under his yoke. Amongst its bishops were Novatus, who assisted at the Council of Carthage in 255; Sextus, who lived in 320; Faustinianus, who was present at the Conference of Carthage in 411, and Secundus, who was exiled by Huneric in 484.[77]

When Solomon arrived for the first time in the Aures in 535 he found the city ruined, so that we may assume its destruction to have taken place between these dates. He restored the citadel at least, in the same style as the other fortresses throughout the country; the proof of this is evident, but the other public buildings bear no trace of a restoration posterior to their original construction. At the time of the Arab invasion it was a Christian city, as in 646, under the government of Gregory, a Christian church was built, the ruins of which still exist.

The ruins occupy a large and undulating plain cut into two portions by a watercourse, which has evidently been considerably deepened by winter torrents since the destruction of the city. Some of its course has been embanked, and perhaps covered over to admit of easy communication between the two portions of the city; perhaps also irrigational works existed to divert its waters to the gardens round about.

This stream runs nearly north and south, eventually turning towards the east. On the west side are numerous ruins of buildings, but the only one of importance is the Basilica above mentioned. It is a square building with a circular apse at the east end. It is divided into a nave and two aisles by columns of rose-coloured marble, three on each side, the centre of which only is free; the others are engaged in the walls right and left of the apse and entrance. Over the lintel of the door was inscribed in white marble