Plate XI.

J. LEITCH &. Co. Sc.

AMPHITHEATRE OF THYSDRUS (EL DJEM)

PLAN OF LOWER STOREY

FAC-SIMILE OF ORIGINAL DRAWING BY BRUCE IN PENCIL AND INDIAN INK.

(Large-size)

HENRY S. KING Co. LONDON.

Plate XII.

AMPHITHEATRE OF TYSDRUS (EL-DJEM.)

FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY F. RITCHIE ESQUIRE.

HENRY S. KING Co. LONDON.

Plate XIII.

AMPHITHEATRE OF TYSDRUS (EL DJEM.)

CORRIDOR OF FIRST STOREY.

FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY F. RITCHIE ESQUIRE.

The windows of the fourth storey of the Coliseum are square-headed, as was generally the case in monuments of this kind; but at El-Djem the heads of the windows are neither straight nor semicircular, but segmental, and they are built as true arches, with voussoirs. They are placed at every third interpilaster.

The study of these African monuments would be very interesting to one who would undertake to write the history of arch and vault building. Specimens are frequently met with amongst these ruins, showing that problems had been solved at a very early date in Africa, which many stereotomists suppose to have been known only for a few centuries.

Each of the three lower storeys possessed sixty-four columns and arches, and at each extremity was a grand entrance, but the west one is included in the breach made by Mohammed Bey in 1697, to prevent the building being again used as a fortress. Since then the work of destruction has gone on rapidly, and now fully one-third of the whole of the perimeter is destroyed.

The interior of the amphitheatre has suffered much more than the exterior, doubtless from the fact that it has so often served as a fortress, and partly from the material having been taken to block up the lower galleries, and to build the modern village. Almost all the steps have disappeared, although these are shown in Bruce’s sections as rising in a great bank or incline, and with but one slight break, from the arena to the third storey, and again between the top of this third storey and the face of the attic. El-Bekri mentions this disposition of seats; he says, ‘The height is 24 toises; all the interior is disposed in steps from bottom to top.’[132]

Bruce’s remarks regarding El-Djem are very brief, but they cause the utmost regret that his finished drawings, and especially the subterranean plan of the building, should not be forthcoming.

I turned again to the north-west, and came to Tisdrus, as it was anciently called—now El-Gemme—where there is a large and spacious amphitheatre, perfect, as to the desolation of time, had not Mahomet Bey blown up four arches of it from the foundation, that it might not serve as a fortress to the rebel Arabs. The sections, elevations, and plans, with the whole detail of its parts, are in the King’s Collection. I have still a subterraneous horizontal section to add to it, an entrance to which I forced open in my journey along the coast to Tripoli, and an explanation[133] of all its parts, when I shall have time and a little assistance, but its sketch is perfectly completed already. This was made so as to be filled up with water by means of a sluice and aqueduct, which are still entire. The water rose up in the arena through a large square hole, faced with hewn stone in the middle, when there was occasion for water games or naumachiæ.

Dr. Shaw imagines that this was intended to contain the pillars that supported the velum, which protected the spectators from the influence of the sun. It might have served for both purposes, but it seems to be too large for the latter; though I confess, the more I have considered the size and construction of these amphitheatres, the less I have been able to form an idea concerning this velum, or the manner in which it served the people, how it was secured, and how it was removed.[134] This was the last ancient building I visited in the kingdom of Tunis, and I believe I may confidently say that there is not, either in the territory of Algiers or Tunis, a fragment of good taste of which I have not brought a drawing to Britain.

There is an interesting tradition regarding the subterraneous gallery recorded by El-Bekri,[135] who says that El-Kahina, the celebrated chieftainess of the Aures, having been besieged in this amphitheatre, which she had converted into a fortress, caused a passage to be excavated in the rock as far as Sallecta, large enough to permit several horsemen in line to pass along. By this means she obtained supplies of provisions, and everything she required.

The Sheikh et-Tidjani also says that when El-Djem was subsequently attacked by Yehia ibn Ishak el-Mayorki, Prince of the Balearic Islands, about the six hundredth year of the Hedjira, he was soon compelled to raise the siege after a most ignominious manner. The defenders, to show how well they were supplied with provisions, threw down fresh fish at their besiegers, which they had obtained by means of the subterranean passage to Sallecta.[136] These traditions linger amongst the people of El-Djem to the present day. Careful excavations in the basement of this structure could hardly fail to be richly rewarded.

It is by no means certain that this amphitheatre ever was completed. If we may judge from Bruce’s sketches, as well as the actual condition of the monument, it is doubtful whether the attic ever was decorated with pillars, though undoubtedly some of the pedestals of this order were placed in position. Some of the ornamental details also are in an unfinished condition. The keystones of the arches of the lowest order were probably all intended to be sculptured, as in the amphitheatre of Capua; but they are still in their original rough condition, with the exception of two, one of which bears the head of a human being, and the other that of a lion. Still, neither of these facts actually proves that the amphitheatre remained uncompleted; in many similar buildings it was never intended to finish all the details with minute care, and even in the Coliseum some of the capitals are but roughly sketched out.

The outside gallery on the ground floor, where most perfect, has been utilised by the Arabs as store-rooms for their corn and forage; some of the arches are converted into shops, and there is evidence that the upper galleries also have at some time or other been converted into dwellings, holes in the masonry for the reception of joists being visible in every direction.

Several inscriptions have been found here; the most important has been preserved in the enclosure of the Chapel of St. Louis at Carthage, and has been often quoted: the name of the town is twice mentioned in it, once as Thysdrus, and again as Thysdritana Colonia.[137]

A number of rude Arabic or Cufic inscriptions, accompanied by representations of swords and daggers, have been scratched on the exterior wall above the principal entrance, and one, which is certainly of Berber origin, may date from the era of El-Kahina.

I am not aware of any sculpture now existing which has been found at this place. Desfontaines purchased a small head of Diana in white marble during his visit in 1784, and he mentions a report current that several fine statues had formerly been carried off by English travellers.[138]

The stone of which the amphitheatre is built was obtained from Sallecta on the sea-coast: the Sallecti of the tables of Peutinger and the Syllectum of Procopius, the first resting-place of Belisarius in his march from Caput Vada to Carthage. The natives assured me that between this place and El-Djem the remains of the ancient paved road can easily be traced. The stone itself is of the youngest geological formation (Pliocene age), belonging to the raised coast-beaches found at from 200 to 600 feet above the present level of the Mediterranean. It is a somewhat fine-grained marine shell-limestone, with an admixture of siliceous sand full of fossil shells of considerable size, such as Pectunculus and Carduum, but no microscopic forms of shells are visible amongst the fine grains of shell-sand which make up the rock. Such a material is worked with the utmost facility; indeed, it may be cut with an axe, but it is not susceptible of being dressed with the same precision as more compact stone. The consequence is that the masonry is far inferior to the finest specimens of Roman work in Africa. Mortar has been plentifully used between the joints, and the stones are neither as large nor as closely fitted as usual; the average dimensions are—length, 37⅜ inches, and height of courses, 19⅝ inches.

Another feature of the construction of this building, never seen in others of the best period of Roman art, is the manner in which the appearance of nearly all the stones has been spoilt by triangular lewis holes being cut in their exterior faces, for the purpose of raising them into position. This gives the masonry a very slovenly appearance. The dimensions given by Bruce are:

Ft. In.
Length of entire structure on major axis 488 0
 „ „  minor axis 400 0
Length of arena, major axis 213 0
 „ „  minor axis 172 0
Depth of foundations 32 11
Height of first stage to impost of arch 21 11
 „ „  above impost 15 2
Height of second stage to impost 21 11
 „ „  above impost 16 4
Approximate total height of building, including foundation 183 7

It is interesting to compare this amphitheatre with some of the best known existing ones in Europe. The table here quoted is given by M. Pelet in his description of the amphitheatre of Nîmes. I assume the accuracy of his dimensions regarding other buildings—those of El-Djem are by no means correct, but that is not wonderful, as accurate information on the subject was not easily obtainable.

Amphitheatres of Major axis. Exterior. Minor axis. Exterior. Arena. Thickness of building. Area of arena.
Major. Minor.
Mètres. Sq. m.
El-Djem 148·50 122· 64·92 52·22 41·79
Pozzuoli 190·95 144·89 111·93 65·85 51·01 5.788
Rome 187·77 155·76 85·75 53·62 51·01 3.611
Capua 169·89 139·60 76·12 45·85 46·88 2.74
Verona 154·18 122·89 75·68 44·39 39·25 2.638
Pola 137·80 112·60 70·00 44·80 33·90 2.463
Arles 137·47 107·29 69·50 39·35 33·97 2.147
Pompeii 135·65 104·05 66·65 35·05 34·50 1.834
Nîmes 132·18 110·38 69·14 38·34 31·52 2.092
Taragon 148·13 118·89 84·459 55·223 31·85 3.664

FOOTNOTES:

[128]Ibn Khaldoun, trad. de Slane, i. p. 215.

[129]De Bello Afr. c. xxxvi.

[130]Guérin, i. p. 99.

[131]Shaw, p. 206.

[132]El-Bekri, trad. de Slane, p. 77.

[133]This still exists, written in Italian, by Balugani. It is useless, however, without the lettered drawings to which it refers.

[134]This problem has been thoroughly solved since Bruce’s time. In the amphitheatre of Nîmes the method of supporting the masts is perfectly apparent.

[135]El-Bekri, trad. de Slane, p. 76.

[136]‘Voyage du Sheikh et-Tidjani,’ trad. Rousseau. Jour. Asiatique, Paris, 4me série, vol. xx.

[137]Guérin, i. p. 98.

[138]Desfontaines, ap. Dur. de la Malle, ii. p. 119.


CHAPTER XIX.

EL-DJEM TO KEROUAN.

The serious part of our journey may be said to have commenced at El-Djem. So far we had been on highways, accessible to tourists without any special permission, and practicable for carriages. My brother returned to Susa in the calèche, and we mounted our horses and, till our entry into French territory, never again saw a Christian face, with the exception of a telegraphic clerk at El-Baja.

Our party consisted of Lord Kingston and myself, an escort of four mounted soldiers, two of whom were Hanbas and two Spahis; a useless old Maltese servant, horses for ourselves, five mules for our baggage, and three attendants. One of these last, who had been a great traveller, and had visited Mecca and Medina, usually went by the honorific title he had thus obtained—El-Hadj. He was the life and soul of the party, and in all our troubles and difficulties cries of Ya Hadj! resounded from every direction. I never met a better servant, and I tried hard to induce him to accompany me to Algiers; but he said, ‘Susa is my native place; I have neither father, mother, nor wife, but four little brothers and sisters, who have only me to support them, so I must stay and take care of them.’ May they be a comfort to your old age, Ya Hadj!

The Hanbas look upon themselves as more nearly approaching regular cavalry than the Spahis; exteriorly they are distinguished by a prevalence of blue instead of red in their uniform, but both are equally badly mounted, and armed with old and obsolete flint firelocks, or any other weapons they may choose to provide. Neither get any regular pay, but are remunerated by whatever they can squeeze out of the people amongst whom their duty takes them for the moment. The regular rate of pay they expect from travellers is five piastres, or 2s. 6d. a day, and as much more as they can get, by way of Ahsan or present at the end of the journey.

April 9.—We started about seven o’clock. Our people were not well up to striking and packing the tent, and distributing the various loads; and there was a good deal of preliminary discussion, and much subsequent readjustment, to be gone through; but in the end it was tolerably well done. We worked as hard as the muleteers but our escort were far too superior beings to pull a strap, or tie a rope, or degrade themselves with any menial occupation. Our original intention had been to proceed due west from El-Djem, but we were assured on all hands that it was impossible. The country was without resources of any kind, and the only practicable route was by Kerouan.

We had not intended to visit the holy city—it was out of the track of Bruce, and had little connection with Roman archæology; but it is undoubtedly a most interesting place, and we were well pleased to have an opportunity of seeing it.

At about 7½ miles from El-Djem we passed the three Koubbas of Sidi Naser and his two sons, situated in a fertile and somewhat wooded depression. Except the gardens of this oasis, surrounded by cactus, and containing a few olive-trees, there was absolutely nothing to break the monotony of the day’s march. Four miles further on, and about eleven from El-Djem, is Akalat Heneshia, a small douar located near two wells of very brackish water. At 14½ miles is Henchir Merabba, a douar of the Souessi, where we found it necessary to pass the night. We could not reach Kerouan that day, and there is no intermediate place where we could hope to find provisions. But were any to be found here? Apparently not, for no sooner was our intention announced to the Arabs of the douar than yells and shrieks of remonstrance resounded from every direction. They swore by the life of the Prophet, and by our own heads, that there was not a grain of barley remaining in the country; they had still a few grains of wheat left, but if we took that for our animals their wives and children would die of starvation. Fowls and eggs had become quite a tradition in the country, and they were not really sure whether they could offer us a handful of dry couscoussou. Our escort were quite equal to the emergency. We were about to protest that nothing was further from our intentions than to inconvenience them in any way, and that we were quite ready to pay for anything they might supply to us; but they calmly told us to stand aside, and not to interfere. The Bey’s letter was produced, a good many expletives were exchanged, and our unalterable determination was announced to spend the night there, and to spend it comfortably. When our hosts saw us dismount and commence to unload our animals, they became assured that further remonstrance was useless, and very soon two black tents were pitched for our accommodation, barley and grass were brought for the horses, and an abundant dinner provided for the men. We very soon got on excellent terms, by the never-failing expedient of showing them our arms, compasses, &c., and when I subsequently asked them why they had created such a disturbance, they replied that such was the way of the Arabs—they would rather have our room than our company, but as we were here, we were very welcome. They have some show of reason for their objection to entertain travellers, as the Government Hanbas and Spahis pillage the people unmercifully, and I fear that our efforts to prevent them were not always successful. We determined however to provide our own dinner. A judicious combination of preserved meats and vegetables, to make a sort of solid soup, was put on the fire to cook. We were so hungry that we could hardly refrain ourselves till it was ready, but at last the supreme moment arrived, when, to our horror, we discovered that it had apparently been cooked in a strong solution of Epsom salts. In fact, the water of this place is so bitter as to be unpotable for a stranger; this is owing to the vicinity of the salt lake, or Gharra, of Sidi El-Henni, a few miles to the east—the water of which percolates into the wells—and to the large amount of nitre contained in the soil. So we had to do without our dinner, and even the traveller’s greatest solace, a cup of tea, and I am afraid that we were by no means in an amiable frame of mind when we went to bed.

April 10.—We started this morning at five o’clock, the features of the country being the same as since our departure from Susa—an interminable plain, in which here and there small patches of cultivation, and a few rare olive-trees, seemed to indicate the vicinity of inhabitants, but few or none were to be seen; they had probably migrated elsewhere for the cool season, and would return in summer to their now abandoned encampments, marked out with hedges of prickly pears. The cactus is a blessed plant for the Arabs; it not only affords an impenetrable barrier for the protection of the douar, but an abundant supply of delicious fruit without the disagreeable necessity of having to cultivate it.

Everywhere off the high road—if so the beaten track between Kerouan and Sfax may be called—the ground is perforated with rat and jerboa holes, which make riding sometimes rather dangerous. Swarms of beetles cover the ground, and seem to constitute the principal food of these rodents. It is the most amusing thing in the world to see these scarabæi rolling along, with their hind legs, a huge ball ten times as big as their bodies, in the centre of which their eggs have been deposited.

At 17½ miles from El-Djem we crossed the Oued Sherita, a salt stream which flows into the Sebkha from the south-west. At Bir Sedof (twenty-seven miles) are one or two wells of fairly good water, where we stopped to rest a few moments, and to water our beasts. Up to this point the road had been skirting the south-west shore of the Sebkha Sidi El-Henni, or lake of Kerouan, whence all the salt in the country is obtained. Soon after passing these wells it crosses a dried-up bay of the lake, on the opposite shore of which is another spring, called Aioun el-Hedjeb. The water here would be better than any other on the road, were care taken to preserve its purity, but it is permitted to flow unrestrained over a bog of black fœtid mud, caused by the passage of flocks and herds, and the decay of vegetable as well as animal matter. Even thus it is much prized by the few people in the neighbourhood, who have no other supply within a considerable distance.

A short distance to the south-west are the ruins called Kasr el-Aioun, Castle of the Springs, supposed by Davis to be the ancient Terentum.[139] It is evidently a Roman or Byzantine post, built on the edge of the Sebkha, in order to command the path across it. The foundations of a few buildings, and the ruins of a two-storied mausoleum, are all that remain, and these are of the most ordinary description of rubble masonry.

At forty miles the road crosses the sandy bed of the Oued Dellai, the lower course of the Oued Merg-el-leil, now like a piece of the Sahara transported here. It drains the country for many miles around, and its wide and deep sandy bed absorbs, and therefore stores up, a great part of the rainfall which would run to waste over harder and less permeable ground.

Long before reaching this the domes and minarets of Kerouan had come in sight, but mile after mile of hot dusty ground was traversed without the city becoming apparently any nearer. Here and there flocks of camels, either trying to pick up a scanty repast on this barren plain, or toiling dreamily and patiently along, served somewhat to break the monotony of the journey; but it was not for two hours, which seemed to us and to our jaded beasts like six, after first sighting the town, that we entered the gates of the Holy City. The whole distance of the route from El-Djem is about forty-one or forty-two miles.

Next to Mecca and Medina no city is so sacred in the eyes of Western Mohammedans as Kerouan. The history of its foundation is given by Ibn-Khaldoun.[140] In the fiftieth year of the Hedjira (A.D. 670) Moaouia ibn-Abi-Sofian sent Okba ibn-Nafa to conquer Africa. The latter proposed to his troops to found a city which might serve him as a camp, and be a rallying point for Islamism till the end of time. He conducted them to where Kerouan now is, and which was then covered with thick and impenetrable forest, the habitation of wild beasts and noxious reptiles. Having collected round him the eighteen companions of the prophet who were in his army, he called out in a loud voice, ‘Serpents and savage beasts, we are the companions of the blessed prophet, retire! for we intend to establish ourselves here.’ Whereupon they all retired peaceably, and at the sight of this miracle many of the Berbers were converted to Islamism; during forty years from that date not a serpent was seen in Ifrikia. No wonder that Okba is as much venerated here as St. Patrick is in Ireland.

Okba then planted his lance in the ground, and called out ‘Here is your Kerouan’ (caravan, or resting-place), thus giving the name to the new city. He himself traced out the foundation of the governor’s palace, and of the great mosque, the true position of the Kibla, or direction of Mecca, which was miraculously communicated to him by God. In most mosques the Imam, when leading the public prayers, turns ostentatiously a little on one side or the other, as if facing Mecca with even greater exactitude than the building itself; but here he invariably stands exactly in front of the people, thus recognising the miraculous correctness of the sacred niche or apse which indicates the direction of the great sanctuary.

The sacred character of this city has not exempted it from its full share of war and violence. Even the great mosque has more than once been almost totally destroyed by the Mohammedans themselves, but it has never actually been polluted by a Christian invader. According to Marmol, when Charles V. expelled Kheir-ed-din from Tunis the people of Kerouan elected the principal Fakih, or doctor of the mosque, to be their king, and he was reigning, and helped the Christians with provisions, when the Emperor was besieging Mehedia. He was actually recognised by the ruler of Tunis, and a matrimonial alliance was concluded between their children. In revenge for the aid thus rendered to his enemies, the Corsair Draguth conspired against him, and, having won over some of the other Ulemas of the mosque and the people of the town, to his side, he entered the place at night, made himself master of it, and slew the king.[141]

Until quite lately, the city was entirely sealed against all who did not profess the faith of El-Islam, and even now it is only by a special order of the Bey that a Christian is admitted within its walls. A Jew dare not even approach it, and it is said, that when on one occasion the heir presumptive paid a visit to it with a Jewish retainer in his suite, he was compelled to leave the latter at a day’s journey outside.

We were most kindly received in the house of the Ferik, Si M’hamed Merabet, Governor-General of Kerouan and the Djerid, who is universally admitted to be one of the most upright and distinguished officers in the service of the Bey, and has been entrusted with important political missions to France, both under the governments of Louis Philippe and Napoleon III. He was himself absent in the south collecting revenue; his next brother, Si Mohammed, had left the day before our arrival for Tunis; but his two younger brothers, Si Mahmoud and Si Hamouda, did the honours of his house with the utmost courtesy and hospitality. As the family to which these brothers belong is one of hereditary marabouts (Merabets, or men devoted to religion) each member of it bears a name derived from the same Arabic radical as that of the Prophet, hamada, to praise (God).

Here we made the acquaintance of a Frenchman of high education, who had lately embraced the Mohammedan religion, and who has been received by the Governor-General quite as one of his family, and has received a name similar to those of himself and of his brothers, Si Ahmed. We found him a most intelligent and instructive companion, and he gave us much information regarding the mosques that no Christian could obtain by his own means, and which the Mohammedans are usually too ignorant, or too unobservant, to be able to supply.

Si Mahmoud sent his principal chaouch and an escort to accompany us through the town; without this precaution it would be impossible for a Christian to stir abroad, and even their presence did not protect us from scowls, and averted looks, and abuse from children, wherever we passed. This rather spoilt the pleasure of our promenades, as it impressed us with the idea that our mere presence was an outrage to the religious feelings even of our hosts, though courtesy prevented them from showing it. We did not attempt to make any photographs of the city—we might not have been actually forbidden to do so, but we felt sure that so unusual a proceeding would have been displeasing to the people, and might have given rise to an outburst of fanaticism.

The great mosque was founded by Sidi Okba, but El-Bekri states that a century later Yezid ibn-Hatem, Governor of Africa, demolished it all, with the exception of the Mihrab, and rebuilt it. Ziadat-Ullah, the first emir of the Aghlabite dynasty bearing that name, demolished it a second time, and once more reconstructed it.[142]

Exteriorly it has no architectural pretensions, but in the interior there are nearly 500 marble columns, all derived from Roman buildings in various parts of the country; of these 256 are in the internal sanctuary itself, the remainder are in the courts of the building disposed in fifteen naves. On each side of the Mihrab are two columns of greater beauty than the rest, and in the central aisle in front of it are three more on each side, with smaller ones between, regarding which the Arabs have a superstition that only those whose salvation is assured are able to pass between them. Any person in mortal sin, whatever be his stature, however stout or however thin, would certainly find himself unable to squeeze through.

The beauty of the inside is much disfigured by the paint and whitewash which have been used to adorn it.

There is a curious collection of ancient armour lying uncleaned and uncared for, but still jealously preserved, in one of its chambers. Some of the pieces are said to be Roman or Byzantine; others belonged to the early Mohammedan invaders. If in course of time Mohammedan fanaticism should ever become sufficiently relaxed to permit the entrance of Christians to this sanctuary, this armour will form a most interesting study.

Marmol states that, on account of the peculiar sanctity of this mosque, it was selected as the burial-place of the kings of Tunis.[143]

The most exquisite, and indeed almost the only attempt at exterior ornamentation, amongst the religious edifices of Kerouan, is the gate of a small mosque next to that of Seyed Hoosain el-Alani, called the Mosque of the Three Gates, Abou Thelatha Biban. It must be six or seven hundred years old, and is decorated with beautiful Cufic inscriptions all along the façade, which, as its name implies, contains three gateways.

In the Zaouiah of Sidi ben Aissa, that of the well-known Aissaoui sect, there are public readings every night, and the usual performances of the votaries, such as glass, cactus and scorpion eating, every Friday. This mosque contains two magnificent brass candlesticks, evidently brought by the Moors from Spain, and which no doubt at one time decorated some Christian cathedral.

Next in sanctity to the great mosque is one outside the city, within which is interred one of the companions of the Prophet, Aba Zamata el-Beloui, whence its familiar name, Jamäat es-Sahebi, Mosque of the Companion. With him are buried three hairs of the Prophet’s beard, one under the tongue, one on his right arm, and the third next his heart. This has given rise to the ridiculous fallacy amongst Europeans that he was one of the Prophet’s barbers!

The mosques are generally kept in a tolerably good state of repair, especially the domes and minarets, which present a most picturesque appearance from a little distance; this illusion is to a great extent dispelled on closer inspection, as the architecture, though good in its general effect, is entirely wanting in beauty of detail, and even the ancient marble columns, with richly carved capitals, which support nearly every entrance gate, are marred by thick coats of whitewash. A common ornamentation is a roughly executed inscription in projecting bricks going round the four sides of a minaret, generally the ordinary protestation of faith, La illah ila Ullah, Mohammed er-rasool Ullah—There is no deity but God; Mohammed is the Messenger of God. The only really good specimens of Cufic inscriptions, that I saw, were on the Mosque of the Three Doors before mentioned, and on each side of the entrance gate called Bab et-Tunis.

The town is by no means dirty for a purely native one, and the filth appears to be carried away pretty regularly by camels and deposited outside the walls.

The inhabitants are entirely dependent on the cisterns under their houses for a supply of water, and in years of drought their sufferings have been very great. To remedy this three large reservoirs were built outside the walls, the first, called Feskia m’ta el-Yeghlib, or reservoir of the Aghlabites, is circular in shape and 480 paces in circumference. It is in bad condition, and full of impurities, but it still retains water. The two others are the Feskia Saeed es-Sahib, and Feskia Bir el-Bey, both rectangular in form, but utterly ruined and unserviceable.

The only well in the city is one of very brackish water, called El-Barota. Tradition says that on the foundation of the city it was discovered by a sloughi, or Arab greyhound, scratching up the ground. The pious believe that there is a communication between this and the holy well of Zemzem at Mecca. A pilgrim once let his drinking vessel fall into the latter, and on his return to Kerouan he found it in El-Barota! With the exception of Jamäat el-Bey, which is of the Hanafi sect, all the other religious establishments belong to the Maleki or orthodox sect.

The city is full of dervishes, not only the half-witted creatures of both sexes, whose infirmity is supposed to be a sign of divine favour, but men of intelligence, who really are animated by a strong sentiment of religion, and of pure and humble life, who reckon every day lost till their entrance into the joys of paradise.

It is extremely difficult to form anything like an accurate estimate of the population of such a city as this. Mr. Wood, in a recent commercial report, estimates it at 15,000.[144] M. Pellissier stated it at about 12,000. Comparing it with Mohammedan cities in Algeria, the population of which is known, I should be inclined to put it down at considerably less than 10,000.

It formerly possessed a very considerable trade, and was famous for the manufacture of carpets and woollen fabrics; now its industry is almost entirely confined to the manufacture of copper vessels, saddlery and Arab boots and shoes.

As a rule, the physique of the people is poor, and the children are unusually rude and ill-bred towards strangers. There is very little intermarriage between the inhabitants of Kerouan and the people of other towns; the result in so small a community is an inevitable tendency to degenerate. Cancer, sore eyes, and maladies depending on dirt and poverty of blood are very common.

A short distance south of the city is Sabra, the site of Vicus Augusti, mentioned in the Itinerary of Antonine, from which has been derived a great part of the ancient materials employed in the construction of Kerouan, and of the royal residences in the neighbourhood, which in their turn have disappeared.

FOOTNOTES:

[139]Davis, Ruined Cities, p. 284.

[140]Ibn-Khaldoun, trad. de Slane, i. 327.

[141]Marmol, ii. p. 532.

[142]El-Bekri, Afr. Sep., trad. de Slane, p. 57. Peliss., Exp. Sc. p. 314.

[143]Marmol, ii. p. 532.

[144]Reports of H.M.’s Consuls, 1876, p. 147.


CHAPTER XX.

KEROUAN TO DJEBEL TROZZA, DJILMA AND SBEITLA.

On the afternoon of April 11 we left Kerouan, by no means sorry to regain our liberty; for although we had greatly enjoyed the society of our hosts, it was impossible not to feel ill at ease in so sacred an atmosphere. I must add, however, that this was the only place in the Bey’s dominions where we saw anything like intolerance of Christianity, and here, considering the venerable traditions attached to the place, its existence was almost excusable. The heat was most intense, but one of our hanbas, out of consideration for my comfort, had provided for my use one of the immense straw hats used by the Arabs of the South, very similar in form to what we are accustomed to associate with the rites of a witch’s Sabbath. Its crown was a truncated cone as big as a sugar-loaf, and the diameter across the brim was little short of a yard. This is worn over the turban or head-dress, whatever it may be, and fastened under the chin with leather straps, when it is desirable to protect the head from the sun’s rays; at other times it hangs down the back by those straps which then pass over the neck. In perfectly still weather it is a great luxury, but when there is the slightest breeze it is extremely difficult to manage. Our route to-day was in a south-westerly direction, and after a short ride of 13 miles we encamped at a douar a little to the north-east of the Koubba of Sidi Ali bin Salem.

Our hosts at Kerouan had sent a spahi in advance to prepare everything for our reception, so we found grain for the horses, and, what we always prized more than anything that could be offered, abundance of fresh milk for our own use.

At half-past five on the morning of April 12 we continued our route westwards. At seventeen miles from Kerouan we crossed the Oued Shershera, an affluent of the Merg-el-leil, both of which are dry at this place; here we passed to the right bank of the latter river, and at about twenty-two miles from Kerouan we came to an end of the weary plain in which we had been travelling ever since leaving Susa, and entered slightly undulating ground surrounded by low hills. To us they appeared magnificent mountains, so ready were we to hail anything with delight, that should break the painful monotony of the landscape. About a mile beyond is Ain Ghorab, the fountain of the crow (Aquæ Regiæ?), near which are the ruins of a Roman position. It is a copious spring near the left bank of the Merg-el-leil, which has here a considerable body of water; the Arabs say that it is never dry at this point, though its waters are absorbed by the thirsty ground a very short distance lower down.

Two and a half miles further on we passed the remains of another Roman town; its site is called Dhahar el-Baidha. We noticed no appearance of inscriptions or ruins of any particular interest.

Near this spot we were met by the brother of the Sheikh Salah, Khalifa of the Oulad Sendasini, a branch of the Jelas tribe, pronounced Selas; his own name is Ali Harioush ben Saidan, and as the great people themselves appear to be always away somewhere, he had come out to meet us in the name of his brother, and escort us to our camping-ground at the north end of Djebel Trozza. Here he had collected a number of the tents of his people for our especial advantage, and he supplied all our wants with the most lavish liberality. What words shall I use to express the delight of those huge bowls of warm milk, awaiting us the moment we had got out of our saddles? The heat had been overpowering for some hours, and no fluid in nature could have been so grateful to us. Our good host was delighted at our enjoyment of it, and repeated over and over again that, if there was anything else we could suggest as likely to minister to our comfort, he would have the country scoured in every direction to procure it. We must indeed have been hard to please if we had not been satisfied with his arrangements for our reception. Barley and grass for the horses were already provided for them, and even a further supply in bags for the next day’s march. A sheep roasted whole, couscoussou, butter, eggs and honey, an abundance of dates and excellent fresh bread, above all a continuous and boundless supply of milk, formed a feast that even Hatim Tai might have set before his guests. Our good host was very curious to see all we possessed, and to know what I was writing in my note-book. I pleased him greatly by telling him, that I was recording his name and the excellence of his hospitality for the information of all future generations.

On the north end of Djebel Trozza, about 380 feet above the level of the plain below, is a remarkable fissure in the limestone mountain called by the natives El-Hammam, or the bath. It descends vertically from a spacious recess or cave, to a depth of about twenty feet, when it widens out into a chamber filled with hot vapour. We had no means of testing its temperature, and indeed did not venture to the bottom, but it cannot be much under the boiling point of water. No water, steam, or fire ever issues from it, but the vapour rises perpetually and appears to be merely heated air, without the addition of any sulphureous gases. The natives have implicit faith in its remedial effects, and come to it from great distances for the cure of rheumatism, and other similar affections. The mountain is comparatively dry and sterile, but it is not without a considerable number of trees, the principal of which are wild olive, tamarisk, kharoub and juniper. There appears to be no water near save what is obtained from the Merg-el-leil, which flows near it. We saw great numbers of red-legged partridges, and my companion delighted the Arabs vastly by the facility with which he shot them on the wing. Our host was a great sportsman himself, but I fancy he was more accustomed to shoot his prey sitting than flying.

Alpha grass grows abundantly here, and indeed in many parts of the country: but this was the only place where we actually saw it being collected. This valuable plant, the stipa, or Macrochloa tenacissima, appears destined to be the great civilising influence in North Africa. Two railways are now being constructed in Algeria, one by an English capitalist,[145] and several others are projected, with the sole object of bringing down this precious fibre to the coast. Tunis cannot compete with Algeria in this respect; still, considerable quantities are annually exported from Susa, Sfax, and other ports on the east coast of the Regency.

The plant grows spontaneously in isolated tufts on the most dry and barren soil; it extends itself in concentric layers, so that the youngest and best leaves are always outside, and therefore most easily plucked. At present it is principally employed for the manufacture of paper, and nearly all our British mills are being adapted to make use of it; but there appears no limit to the number and variety of manufactures in which it can be employed, either in its natural state or in the form of papier mâché. Hats, mats, brooms, baskets, &c., are made of the dried fibre, while a paste made from it has been employed by opticians (for telescopes), manufacturers of artificial limbs, shoemakers, tailors, house decorators, coopers (for making casks), and it has even been suggested to employ it in shipbuilding.

With the alpha generally occurs the diss grass (Empelodesmos tenax), which it greatly resembles, and which is the staple building material of the country. It makes an excellent and impermeable thatch, but the fibre appears not to be suited for papermaking.

Early on the morning of April 13, we started from our camping-ground. Our host, and the two extra spahis who had been sent from Kerouan to accompany us, rode with us part of the way, and after a hard day’s ride of twelve hours, upwards of thirty miles, we arrived at a douar of the Frashish tribe, some miles west of Djilma. The route lay along a wide plain, more undulating and accidenté than that from Kerouan, but almost totally uncultivated. Many parts of it were covered with brushwood, there were even groves of olive-trees in some places, and all along the route at short intervals we observed ruins of Roman stations, showing how extensive the occupation of the country had once been. This is the great highway, if such a name may be applied to a mere track, from Kerouan to the Djerid; and it is quite practicable for wheeled conveyances, although there are one or two rather difficult watercourses to be crossed.

We could not remain any time at Djilma; neither provisions for ourselves nor forage for our animals were to be obtained; so after a very cursory examination of the ruins we continued our route. The modern Djilma is the ancient Chilma or Oppidum Chilmanense, which does not appear to have played an important part in history; if it did, the record is lost. The ruins are not very interesting, though they cover a considerable extent of ground. The most important is a Byzantine fortress, which, as usual, is built of older materials. There can be no doubt that the modern name is merely a corruption of the ancient one; nevertheless, the Arabs have a way of their own of accounting for it. The water of the Oued Sbeitla, as we shall see further on, disappear in the sand a little south of the ancient city. A holy man undertook to make them reappear near Djilma, and on his miracle proving successful all the people flocked to see it, exclaiming in astonishment, ‘Dja el-ma!’ (the water has arrived!) There can be no doubt as to the authenticity of this miracle, as the Oued Djilma has contained an abundant supply of water ever since!

Our reception by the Frashish was by no means very cordial, but after the usual amount of wrangling and threatening we got what we absolutely required, food for our people and horses; our own provisions we always carried with us. They also gave us some goats’ milk, very highly flavoured by the wormwood and other aromatic herbs, which constituted their principal food, but by no means disagreeable in taste.

Early on the morning of the 14th we started for Sbeitla, where we arrived shortly after noon. The road passed along the crest of a low range of hills, following the left bank of the watercourse running between Sbeitla and Djilma, which is here quite dry. The country is as barren as any we had passed through, but it is covered with the remains of Roman posts and towns. One of the latter, now called Meksour Mediouna, about a mile from our camping-ground, occupies a very large area, and appears to have been a place of importance. Near it, on the left bank of a tributary of the river, are the remains of a wayside fountain, attached to which was another building, intended, no doubt, to enshrine a statue, fragments of which, in blue stone, are lying near it. This district, now so utterly barren and deserted, must have contained a large and prosperous population. We did not meet a single individual during our ride of twelve miles. Game is very abundant here, and my companion shot a fair supply of partridges and a lesser bustard or poule de Carthage.