At Tripoli we found the Hon. Mr. Frazer, of Lovat, the King’s Consul; he complained heavily to the Bashaw, who excused himself poorly.

I am persuaded he would have laid the blame upon Mr. Frazer, if any accident had befallen us.

I cannot allude to this gentleman without mentioning that he is, as I hear, recalled upon a complaint of the Bashaw of Tripoli, who, after many other irregularities, at last confined him to his house. This grand complaisancy to these Barbary gentlemen, who answer the complaints for national grievances by personal exceptions against the Consul, will soon have the effect of making neutral freighters believe that our flag is insecure and without protection, and will certainly in the end throw all this caravan into the hands of the French, who support their Consuls and colours with the utmost spirit both at Tunis and Tripoli.

His Royal Highness the Duke of York having given orders to Commodore Harrison to desire, in his name, that all encouragement and assistance might be given to me in my journeys from each of these regencies, and that gentleman being soon expected at Tripoli, I left a letter for him, begging him to obtain of the Bashaw of Tripoli the same liberty I had in Algiers and Tunis, to visit the antiquities of the kingdom, after which I returned along the coast of the Lesser Syrtis down to Cape Bon, the Promontorium Mercurii, from thence again arrived at Tunis, after an absence of more than six months constantly encamped.

The three cities of Leptis, Sabrata and Oea constituted anciently a federal union, and the district governed by their Concilium Annum was styled Lybia Tripolitana.[281] This council was composed of the representatives of all orders of the people, and through its president received the commands of the Emperor, and transmitted to him the representations or complaints of the province. Under the reign of Valentinian,[282] we read of the oppression under which they groaned from the tyranny of the Count Romanus, military governor of Africa, whose protection they had sought against the attacks of the Austuriani, barbarians of Getulia, who had laid waste their territory, and killed or carried into captivity many of their principal citizens. The impunity of his misgovernment, the venality of the Imperial notary sent to inquire into the complaints of the Tripolitains, and the public execution of their president, Ruricius,[283] at Sititi, because he had presumed to pity the distress of the province, presents a frightful picture of the evils to which the distant and tributary possessions of the Romans were exposed under the emperors. As the overgrown rule of these princes obliged them to depute the investigation of the wrongs complained of by their subjects to officers exposed to every influence of corruption, we can scarcely wonder that those wrongs, often unredressed, occasioned frequent revolts, which were one great source of the ruin of Africa. The crimes of Romanus drove the Africans under Firmus the Moor into rebellion, and for a time the whole province was lost to the empire. It was restored by the restorer of Britain, Theodosius. The impunity of the first, and the ignominious death of the second of these generals, who was publicly beheaded at Carthage, on a vague suspicion that his name and services were superior to the rank of a subject, show how dangerous to its possessor was, under those princes, the union of ability and virtue.

Leptis and Sabrata were ruined by the frequent recurrence of such commotions, and by the policy of Genseric, King of the Vandals, which led him to destroy the fortifications of almost all the African cities, thus leaving them a prey to the Moors. Procopius[284] tells us that Justinian repeopled the first by inducing the inhabitants of the neighbouring country to renounce their idolatry, become Christians and settle in it, and that he rebuilt the walls, both of it and of Sabrata.

Before the reign of Constans the Second,[285] they had again yielded to the joint attacks of the barbarians and the moving sands of the deserts, for we find that the wealth, the inhabitants, and the name of the province had then gradually centred in the maritime City of Tripolis, built on the site of Oea, the native country of Apuleius.[286]

The Prefect Gregory, who had perhaps assumed the purple, since Theophanes brands him with the appellation of tyrant, at this time ruled the provinces. He was called on to check the progress of the victorious Saracens, who under Abdallah, the most renowned and dextrous horseman of Arabia, had crossed the desert from Egypt and pitched their tents before the walls of Tripoli. The army of the Caliph Othman did not exceed 40,000 men, and the fortifications of Tripoli were strong enough to resist its first assaults. That of Gregory amounted to 120,000 men and compelled the Saracens to relinquish, for a time, the labours of the siege.

Marmol, on the authority of Ibn al Ragny, an African historian, tells us that Tripoli was completely ruined shortly after this time, and its inhabitants either killed or carried into slavery. Long after, he adds, the town was rebuilt by the Africans in a sandy plain, producing palm trees but no corn, as the ever-encroaching sands of the desert have covered plains of considerable extent to the north of the town, which were anciently cultivated.

The ancient Tripoli, he says, stood to the north of the present, in this cultivated tract; but the situation of the triumphal arch, which still attests its former magnificence, would seem to disprove this assertion. The neighbourhood of Numidia and Tunis, and its being the last place on the coast of consequence between Barbary and Egypt, have given it a great share of commerce, and the riches of its merchants have adorned it with splendid mosques, colleges, and hospitals, with squares and streets better ordered than those of Tunis. Provisions are, nevertheless, scarce and dear, and the want of wells obliges it to depend on large cisterns for its supply of water.

Tripoli was taken by assault in 1510 by the Count Pedro of Navarre, who ruined it, but it was re-peopled some time after in the name of the Emperor, who in 1528 gave it, with Malta, to the Knights of St. John, who had just lost the Island of Rhodes.

In 1551 Canan Basha, General of Soliman, retook it, since which time the Turks have held a garrison in it, and the town is peopled with Moors.

After some stay at Tripoli, I visited Lebidah, the ancient town of Leptis Magna, three days’ journey from Tripoli, where there are a great extent of ruins, but all in bad taste; chiefly done in the time of Aurelian—indeed, very bad.

It is said that in the time of Louis XIV. seven monstrous columns of granite or marble were carried from this place into France; the eighth was broken on the way, and lies still on the shore.

There were then many statues of good taste dug out of the sands, which were intended to be carried off likewise, but the Government of Tripoli, following their usual ignorant beastly prejudices, would not suffer them to be transported, pretending they were bodies of unfortunate Mussulmans petrified or confined there by magic; so that the Consul could do no better than bargain privately for the heads of those statues, which were struck off and shipped with the columns. All I can say is, that we saw several of very good taste in this mutilated state, one very beautiful colossal statue of black marble, with a quiver hung by a belt over his shoulder, two others something above the ordinary size of a man; these three of Greek workmanship.

From Tripoli I sent an English servant to Smyrna with my books, drawings, and supernumerary instruments, retaining only extracts from such authors as might be necessary for me in the Pentapolis, or other parts of the Cyrenaicum.

I then crossed the Syrtis Major to Bengazi,[287] the ancient Berenice, built by Ptolemy Philadelphus, and arrived there in the time of a most dreadful famine. The inhabitants of the town were dying with hunger for want of grain; two tribes of Arabs, whose territories surround the town, and who, when at peace, by their crops, their milk, butter and flocks, were the sources of its wealth and plenty, were then accidentally at war through the bad and weak government of the brother of the Bey of Tripoli, who then commanded at Bengazi.

The two tribes had fought; those farthest from the town and fewest in number had beaten the most numerous and nearest to Bengazi, called Welled Abeed, and stripped them of everything, and they had forced them to fly into the town.

A number of men, women and children, equal to double of those in the town, unprovided with every necessary of life, were forced in among those that were already dying with famine. The streets were every night strewed with people dead or dying with hunger.

Bengazi was situated upon a promontory, which, having lost considerably to the sea, is now, where broadest, less than half-a-mile. Nothing now remains but its port, which, though dangerous in its entry, is certainly the best anywhere on the coast of the kingdom of Tripoli. On the north there are still to be seen, beyond sea-mark, the foundations of several large buildings, of stones eight or ten feet long and three broad, which by their own weight, and being bound with strong cement, have preserved their places notwithstanding the violence of the waves.

Above the port, and below the town to the south-west, are large lakes of salt water, which formerly probably joined to the water of the harbour, and enclosed the south side of the town, forming the peninsula called by the ancients Pseudopenias.

About ten miles to the eastward is the lake Tritonis, with a small island, where was the Temple of Venus, now Monastier, and to the northward of this, the lake Zeian or the Beautiful, formerly called that of the Hesperides, into which a stream rising in a small hill above it runs into the sea, which has a communication likewise with the lake, and is the Leithon of Strabo.

About seven miles from Bengazi, to the south-west, is a small low cape called Teyonis, which, running out considerably to the north, is that which Strabo says makes the mouth of the Syrtis, with Cephala or Cape Mesrata.

The country about Bengazi, for several miles, is chiefly sand and gravel, brought thither from the coast by the violent winds, but beyond the influence of these, towards the mountains, to the east and south-east, it is a reddish clay of the same soapy quality as fuller’s earth; and provided plentiful and frequent rains fall about November, December and January, their seed-time, nothing can be more fertile; but these rains have failed for several years, and now the famine is so great, that people hourly die in the streets, and many people have been detected, chiefly women, with the heads and remains of children, murdered and eaten, all but the parts which were saved for another meal.

There was no staying at Bengazi, the Bey recommended me to a Sheikh of distant Arabs, where the calamity of famine had only reached in a smaller degree. We went to Arsinoe and several cities in the Pentapolis, the works of Ptolemy Philadelphus, which are now totally obliterated.

We went to Ras Sem, the supposed petrified city,[288] concerning which so many lies have been told. It is about nine miles south from El-Wadi, between that and El-Murag, and four days’ smart travelling south, a very little west of Bengazi; it is not so named either from the supposed fable of the Gorgon’s head, or from the petrifactions of men, horses, &c., which have been idly invented and believed, but from a fountain of mineral water of a greenish colour, so strongly impregnated with metal that it instantly, upon drinking, discharges itself by purging and vomiting. The head of a fountain or spring is called in Arabic Ras el-Ain, so that Ras Sem, the fountain of poison, is all that is implied in this name.

The only antiquities here consist of a ruined castle, not of earlier date probably than the wars of the Vandals, perhaps much later, and there are no petrifactions but what are common in many other parts of Africa.

This is all of that immense city which the Tripoli ambassador made Sir Hans Sloane believe was of considerable extent, with petrified men and horses, women at the mill and churn, and cats and mice petrified also. This severe accident has, I suppose, destroyed the breed, as neither of these animals are to be seen in the country now.

Only the jerboa, or rat of the Cyrenaicum, is very plentiful here; our Arabs killed many of them, and eat the hinder part. I engaged one of them on the journey to kill me several hundreds, which was very easily done, in time enough to carry them to Bengazi to deliver them in charge there to my Greek servant, going to Tripoli, who was to dry and take care of them. I brought these home for the lining of a cloak, flaying the tails in the manner they do ermine, happy if we had taken charge of them, and gone home with them ourselves!

The leffah, or cerastes of the ancients, is also very common here. It is a horned viper, generally about 16 inches in length, though often considerably longer. That of which I made a design in the desert of Barca was 22 inches long. The colour varies in darkness according to the colour of the earth in which he lives. It is remarkably supple in the spine, according to the observation of Lucan,

Its bite is accounted mortal by the Moors, especially in summer, and they immediately fly for remedy either to amputation of the part, deep incisions or actual cautery; however, application of oil of olives, rubbed over the fire upon the wound, after an opening was made by a lancet, never failed to obviate any fatal consequence, even when the poison had occasioned convulsive vomitings and sickness, by having had time to circulate.

Almost as bad as the cerastes is the Istell,[289] a very venomous Phalangium of the Cyrenaicum; it dwells chiefly upon shrubs, and builds a nest of moss like a bird; it is larger than a spider of the largest size in England, and is of a dark black colour, or rather inclining to blue. The male is covered with fine down or hair; the female is smooth. When young they are painted with yellow along the back, with a figure much resembling the representation of the Silphum upon the medals of this country. The bite of this animal is in hot weather said to be attended with death; those who sleep on the ground among the bushes are generally those that suffer. One bit by this animal had his tongue in about half-an-hour so swollen as to be incapable of speech, but had no other mortal symptom. The glands of his throat were much swelled, and down his shoulder and arm. The bite was in the neck, which was but little discoloured; he recovered by rubbing oil upon the wound and places affected, and by repeatedly swallowing, as much as the swelling of his tongue would permit. He complained of pain in his veins, and shivered often suddenly, as before the attack of a fever: he had no remarkable thirst. Many who recover from the bite of this animal and the leffah continue lame in the hand or foot, the parts generally affected. This seemed to me extraordinary, and not easily accounted for, till, upon examining one who was in these circumstances, I found that he had, in his incision into the upper part of the foot, cut the tendons of two of his toes, which, after long torment and suppuration, remained useless. This is the case, I suppose, with the others, for they make no use of outward remedies, and could scarcely believe in or be brought to use so simple a remedy as oil, though they had seen its effects, and admired them, not knowing what it was. Those who have not courage to lay open or cauterise the part, apply to marabouts for charms, and swallow certain characters, or hang them on their persons as amulets; such people, if the bite is given in hot weather, usually die.

At Ras Sem begin the sands, which continue to Ougela, and from thence, as far as is known, to the banks of the Niger. The sands are charged or impregnated to a very great degree with salt, the prevailing mineral in Africa, and from Bengazi to Ougela, and much beyond, the country is as perfectly level as the ocean.

Ougela is the seat of a Bey dependent upon, and named by Tripoli. It is in his district, and not, as has been advanced, in that of Derna, that Ras Sem is situated. Ougela consists of three villages; the largest, or capital, is Zibeel, the next Zaila, about 16 miles south-west, governed by a Caid; the other is Marad, still further south-west, but scarcely inhabited, save by those who come hither to hunt wild cows or beeves, for it is very unwholesome, by reason of stagnant water and marshes full of canes. These habitations are surrounded by large plantations of excellent dates, which are ripe in September, and hither the Arabs of the province of Bengazi come annually to load their camels with dates, for the rest of the year.

Ougela is in the way of the caravan from Fezzan to Mecca, with which come the merchants of Borno and Tombucto, as well as many other black nations to the south and south-east. Those from Tombucto are nearly two months upon their journey to Fezzan, chiefly along the Niger. Ougela is in the direct road from Fezzan to Cairo. From this to Cairo they are twenty-three days. Each camel pays one sequin, 8s. 6d. to the Bey of Ougela. They bring with them manna and gold-dust, some ostrich feathers, &c., but the trade of Tombucto is of late much decreased or turned some other way, by reason of war among the Arabs, through which the merchants have to pass. From Fezzan to Ougela, twenty-eight days. Seven days east and by north of Ougela is Siwah, which pays no acknowledgment to Tripoli, but is governed by four sheikhs of its own; it is situated on a very steep rock, and the way to the town is by a narrow winding passage, only wide enough for one person, till you arrive at the top. The water here is very bad though in great abundance, and this makes the air so bad that it has always proved fatal to those who attempted to conquer it. It is eight long days’ journey due south of Derna, and is the place, which, like Ougela, supplies the Moors of its district, the most considerable of whom are the Welled Aly, with dates.

All the interior of this vast country is very badly laid down, both as to latitude and longitude, in the French maps of Rollin, Delisle and Sanson.

The small islands, or rather rocks, before Derna, are called Kerse at this present by the Moors, and the desert to the southward of Bengazi is still called Barca or Barga.

The most distant community known to the southward of Ougela is Cuffra, that is to say, in the language of the country, the City of Infidels, so the Arabs call a nation or people of blacks, which inhabit the desert, seven days’ journey, or about 130 miles due south of Ougela.

These blacks live within a town enclosed with high mud walls; they are very numerous, but so afraid of fire-arms and horsemen that any surprised without the city are easily taken. There is here a large plantation of dates, and the Arabs of Bengazi, the Jowassi, and Aid Jelleed, who go to buy dates at Ougela, often undertake this journey, which they perform in seven days, carrying water on camels, and make slaves of all the blacks they can surprise without the walls, whom they sell to the Turks to carry to the Levant. After this they encamp near the water among the palm trees, and there wait the ripening of the dates, which they likewise gather without payment, and so return with their booty. These blacks are dressed in sheep or goat skins, and have for arms, bows and arrows—the bow made of wild fennel, the arrows made of the branch of the date tree, about five feet in length, including the head, which is nine inches.

I found at Bengazi a ship bound to Tripoli in Syria. It was out of my way, but it was absolutely necessary to send a part of my baggage, for which I had not occasion, to some place of future rendezvous, safe from such accidents as were to be expected every day in Bengazi.

I had formerly sent my books and most of my arms, and many other articles to Smyrna, and wrote to Mr. Murray, then our Ambassador at Constantinople, to send my firman of the Porte thither; from thence my correspondent was to forward it by another opportunity to Alexandria.

We are obliged in these countries to make use of the first ways that present, however round-about they are, or we might linger long for direct opportunities. I sent a reflector, with some other instruments, and proposed to go myself from Ptolometa to Grenneh, thence to Derna, through the desert of Libya to Alexandria, and the caravan of pilgrims from Morocco would probably have joined me at the latter part of the road.

Ptolometa is placed by the Itinerary forty-six miles from Bengazi, but is in fact Tochara. It is at the point of the mountains which, having run nearly north-west and south-east, now run north-east and south-west. They are of a moderate height, covered to the top with shrubs, chiefly of a plant called jiddāry, a species of thorn.

Tochara is entirely ruined, and is close upon the shore, partly destroyed by the sea, and appears to have had no port; not a piece of marble nor ornament of sculpture or architecture to be found.[290] The earth is reddish clay and very fertile. From hence we continued our way chiefly by the seaside to Ptolometa.[291]

The plain is about two miles broad, the soil the same, covered with a species of whitethorn, but nearer Ptolometa it is gravel. Ptolometa occupies the whole valley, which there is not more than a mile broad, the breadth of the town from south-east to north-west not so much. It seems to have been an oblong square; on the north-east angle is the port, which must have been small, defended by a small island, and much encroached upon by the sea.

The city, though small, seems to have contained a quantity of magnificent public buildings, but the whole is thrown down, and the ornamental parts, except many Corinthian capitals, which lie dispersed about, carried away and applied to the building of two modern castles, one a fort, probably for the defence of the port, the other larger, a little above it. There remain, besides the building here described, only three columns on foot, all of the Doric order, one in front a [true] column, the rest square in the flanks, probably intended as an angular one to a wall which surrounded the portico of the court of the Temple. The other two are about 200 yards higher up, nearer the foot of the mountain.

Near the centre of the city is the fabric delineated[292]; it seems to have been the portico of a temple, but the rest of it is so entirely ruined that no positive account or plan can be given of it. The front is to the mountains; before it was a large court with a colonnade, paved with stones as in causeways, and afterwards covered with rude mosaics. Under these are large cisterns for the reception of rain water. There are likewise wells by the seaside, but a little brackish.

These columns will probably not stand long, two being already undermined by the Arabs in search for lead, which they imagine to bind the joints of the columns. The same search made them, while we were yet there, throw down the small fragments of architrave and cornice yet remaining, and ruin one of the capitals, so that we left the three naked columns standing without any part of the entablature upon them.

There is a very large building of the Corinthian order to the east of this; part of the wall is still remaining.

The columns were of different . . . . . .[293] as in the above Ionic, which seems to have been a part of it, for the north, which seems to be the vestige of the temple, behind and immediately connected with it, does not seem of itself to have merited a portico so large and magnificent as this; but all is so destroyed that nothing but conjecture can be alleged either in support or the contrary. What remains could be recovered are in the King’s Collection, with all the parts that could be found.[294]

The Welled Urfa, a clan of no great consequence in force, but rich in cattle, who occasionally pitch their tents there for the sake of the grass, if it can be so called, are masters of Ptolometa. From this neighbourhood, west to Bengazi, by Tochara, Byrsus, &c., are the Ouagheer, of no great force either. On the other side of the mountains to the east are Dursha, a thievish tribe, consisting of about 800 foot and 200 horse. Thieves from these Moors kept us in alarm all night, but, not having time to increase their numbers, they proceeded only so far as to attempt to rob our horses. In the forenoon we decamped about eleven, having taken our measurements and designs, and took refuge with the Ouagheer. Great rains having fallen for nine days, the grass in and about Ptolometa was nearly a foot high, but the corn had not yet appeared.

In calm weather vessels, chiefly French, have loaded at Ptolometa both wheat and oats, but this year famine was everywhere.

This is the only city of the Cyrenaicum that has any considerable remains of architecture standing. We finished our drawings on December 30. On the north-west side of the city are the very large quarries from which the stone for building the city was taken. We see with surprise the large blocks which were raised for the architraves and other principal parts of the building. Large grottos in the form of houses are cut into these rocks, and on the side of one of them, among other designs, the amusement of the quarriers, is hewn a frontispiece of an Ionic temple, touched with considerable spirit and intelligence, about four feet high.

Here we met a small Greek vessel unloading corn, belonging to an island not far from Crete; and here we received bad news, that the Welled Ali, the Arabs that mostly occupy the whole country between this and Alexandria, were at war amongst themselves, and had plundered the caravan of Morocco going to Mecca, that great dearth or famine had been at Derna, and the plague had followed it, that that town, divided into upper and lower, were at war among themselves, and that the Welled Habeeb were at war with the Arabs of Ptolometa, where we now were, and that we could pass no further.

This torrent of many woes was irresistible; we determined to stay no longer, but to fly from this inhospitable coast, and thus save to the public at least the knowledge we had already acquired for them.

We embarked on board the Greek caique very ill-armed and accoutred. We sailed by the dawn of day from Ptolometa in as favourable and pleasant weather as I ever saw at sea. A light and steady breeze, though not perfectly fair, promised a short and agreeable voyage, but the wind soon turned so fresh that our vessel with her large latine sails and without ballast, fell vastly to leeward; we turned prow upon Bengazi, and not far from shore we struck upon a rock, which went fairly through the vessel, and she, as it were, sat down upon it. The wind providentially calmed, but there was still a great swell at sea.

Two boats were still astern and had not been hoisted in. M‘Cormack, my Irish servant, had been a sailor on board the ‘Monarch’ before he deserted to the Spanish service; he and the other, who had likewise been a sailor, presently unlashed the largest boat and we all three got down into her, followed by a multitude of people whom we could not hinder, and there was indeed something bordering on cruelty in preventing poor people from using the same means that we had done for preserving their lives.

The most that could be done was to get loose from the ship as soon as possible, and two oars were prepared to row the boat ashore.

I had stripped myself to an under-waistcoat and linen drawers, a silk sash or girdle was wrapt round me; a pencil, small pocket-book and watch were in my breast pocket; two Moorish and two English servants followed me, the rest wisely abode by the wreck.

The vessel had in it a number of poor people, men, women and children, flying from famine, who all got over the ship’s side into the boat likewise—they were too many, it is true, but who was to hinder them? We were not twice the length of the boat from the vessel before a wave nearly filled her. I saw our fate was to be decided by the next wave that was rolling in upon us, and satisfied that some woman, child, or helpless man would lay hold upon me, entangle my arms, and weigh me down, I cried to my servants, ‘We are all lost, follow me if you can swim,’ and I let myself down in the face of the wave. Whether that or the next swell filled the boat I know not. I was a good, strong and practised swimmer, in the flower of life, full of health and exercise, and I suppose at the time one of the strongest men in the world.

All this, however, which might have availed me much in deep water, was not sufficient when I came into the surf. I received a violent blow on my breast with the eddy wave and reflux; it seemed to be with a billet of wood, and threw me upon my back and made me swallow a considerable quantity of water, which almost suffocated me.

I avoided the next by dipping my head and letting the wave go over. I found myself exceedingly weary and exhausted, but the land was close at hand.

A large wave floated me up, and I endeavoured, but in vain, to prevent myself from going back again into the surf. My heart was strong but my strength was failing, by being involuntarily twisted about and struck on the face and breast by the surf. After some further struggle before I gave myself up, I sank in the reflux of the tide, to see if I found ground, and I touched the sand with my feet, though the water was still deeper than my head. The strength of ten men was infused into me by this discovery; I fought manfully, taking advantage of floating only upon the influx of the wave, and preserving my struggle to hinder me from coming back. I was almost insensible, for I had drunk a great deal of water fetching breath. When I found my hands and knees upon the sand, I fixed my nails and knees fast, and was no longer carried back by the reflux. I had perfectly lost my recollection and understanding, and having crawled so far as to be out of the reach of the tide on the dry sand, I suppose, fainted, for I was totally insensible.

In this critical situation the Arabs, who live two short miles from the shore, came down in crowds to plunder the vessel.

One of the boats was thrown ashore, and they had belonging to them some others. There was yet one with the wreck, which scarcely appeared with its gunwale above water.

The first thing that wakened me from the semblance of death was a blow with the butt-end of a lance, shod with iron, on the juncture of my neck with the back-bone, which gave me violent pain. It was very providential it was not with the point, for the small, short waistcoat I had upon me, all in Turkish fashion, made the Arabs believe I was a Turk. After many kicks, blows and curses they stript me of the little clothing I had, and left me naked.

The boat had come ashore, another boat had been there, and a number of these savages had gone aboard to rifle the vessel, which was full of water, and fast going to pieces; everybody was brought ashore and all were stript naked as I had been.

After the discipline I had undergone, I had walked or crawled up among some white sandy hillocks, where I sat down; luckily the weather was warm, though it promised to be colder as the evening drew on.

There was great danger to be apprehended if I approached the tents where the women were, while I was naked, for in this case it was very probable I would receive another bastinado something worse than the first.

I was so confused that I could not recollect I could speak to them in their own language, and now only it came into my mind that by the gibberish, in imitation of Turkish, the Arab had uttered to me in mockery, while he was beating and stripping me, he took me for a Turk, to which, in all probability, my ill usage was owing.

An old man and a number of young ones came up to me where I was sitting. I gave them the salute Salam Alicum, to which none answered but one, a young man, who only repeated ‘Salam Alicum’ in a tone as if wondering at my impudence. The old man asked me whether I was a Turk, and what I had to do there? I said I was no Turk, but a poor Christian physician, a Derwich, that went about the world seeking to do good for the love of God, and was flying from famine, which I had found in that country, and was going to Greece, where I might get bread. He asked me whether I was not a Candiot or Cretan? I said I had never been in Crete, but came from Tunis, and was going there to seek bread, having lost everything in the shipwreck of that vessel. I said this in so despairing a tone of voice that there was no doubting left with the Arab that it was true.

A ragged, dirty barrican was immediately thrown over me, and I was ordered up to the tent, where there was a great spear thrust through at one end of it, a mark of sovereignty. There I saw the Sheikh of the clan, who, being in peace with the Bey, after many such questions as those I have mentioned, offered me a plentiful supper, of which all my servants partook, none having perished. A multitude of consultations ensued, of which I freed myself in the best way I could by alleging all my medicines were lost, in hopes to engage some of them to seek for my sextant at least, but all to no purpose; so that after staying two days amongst them, the Sheikh clothed me anew, gave us all the clothes we had been stripped of, and camels and a conductor to Bengazi, where we arrived on the evening of the second day.

Thence I sent a compliment to the Sheikh, and with it a man from the Bey, entreating that he would use all possible means to fish up some of my cases, and send me word, assuring him that he would not miss a handsome reward.

Promises and thanks were returned, but I never heard further of my instruments. All we recovered from the Arabs was a silver watch of Ellicot’s, its works taken out and broken to pieces, some pencils, and a Turkish leather small portfolio, in which was the sketch of the measure of Ptolometa; my pocket-book too was found, but my pencils were lost, being in a silver case, and so were all my astronomical observations since I came from Tunis.

There was lost my sextant and parallactic instrument, one timepiece, one reflecting telescope, and an acromatic one, a book with many drawings, a copy of M. de la Caille’s ‘Ephemerides,’ which I very much regretted, having a great many manuscript marginal notes, the small camera obscura, some guns and pistols, a blunderbuss and several other articles.

We found at Bengazi a small French sloop, the master of which had often been at Algiers when I was consul there. I had even, as he remembered, done him some little service, for which, contrary to the usage of that sort of folk, he was still very grateful. He had come there loaded with corn, and was going somewhere up the Archipelago or towards the Morea; the cargo he had brought was but a mite compared to the necessities of the place; it only relieved the soldiers for a time, and many people of all ages and sexes were still dying daily.

The harbour of Bengazi was full of fish, and we caught a great quantity of many excellent kinds every day with a small net. We fished, too, a multitude with the line, enough to have maintained a larger number of people than our family; we had vinegar and pepper, and some stores of onions. We had little bread, it is true; but still our industry kept us very far from starving. I endeavoured to instruct these wretches; gave them packthread and some coarse hooks, with which they could have subsisted easily with attention, and the smallest pains; but they would rather starve in multitudes, striving to pick up single grains of corn spilt upon the sand from the bursting of the sacks, or the inattention of the bearers unloading the vessels, than take pains to watch one hour with the floating tide for fish, where, after taking one, they were sure to be masters of multitudes till high water.

The captain of this small vessel lost no time; he had done his business well, and he was returning for another cargo, yet he offered me what part of his funds I needed with great frankness.

We sailed with a fair wind and in four or five days’ easy weather we landed at Canea, a small port on the western end of the island of Crete, where the French carry on a considerable trade in oil for their soap manufactories. I found myself ill there after the bathing I had got at Ptolometa, and not a bit better of the beating, signs of which I bore long afterwards.

It was one way of curing the whiteness of the skin, at which they were very much surprised, and though it did not confine me to the house, or hinder me from visiting that famous island, a violent pain in my side and down my back had taken away a great deal of my strength and activity. Sometimes I thought it was a muscular pain from cold or over-exertion; sometimes I thought it arose from a violent blow received from a stick while they were stripping me, as upon a change of weather I have felt it at times to this day.