Chapter I: Topography of Tunis

The coast-line of Northern Africa runs almost due east as far as Cape Bon, the Mercurii Promontorium of the Romans, at which point it takes an abrupt turn southwards till it reaches the island of Jerba, famous in history as the fabled abode of the lotus-eaters, and close to the lower extremity of the Gulf of Gabes, once known as the Lesser Syrtis. From this point the shore of the Mediterranean again resumes its easterly course towards Alexandria and the Nile.

The tract of country which occupies the angle thus formed is the Regency of Tunis. As its very name denotes, the _Regency_ of Tunis never had any pretensions to be more than a quasi-independent state. The dominion of Tunis is, or rather was, a Regency or fief of the Turkish Empire, and the Beys of Tunis were both politically and religiously vassals of the Sublime Porte. French historians, more candid than French diplomatists, have admitted this both before and after the eventful 12th May 1881, when a French general, _manu militari_, by a stroke of the pen substituted the suzerainty of the French Republic for that of Abdul Hamid. Only a few months ago, the well-known writer on Algerian subjects, Commandant Villot, wrote as follows:—“The religious tie is so powerful amongst Muhamedans, that the successors of Heussein (the common ancestors of the Beys of Tunis) have never omitted to obtain a firman of investiture from the head of Islamism, nor has any money ever been current except that which bears his name.”[2] More than this, the Beys of Tunis have resisted repeated efforts put forth by Western Powers to induce them to shake off the yoke of their natural lord. M. Thiers, who endeavoured to persuade Ahmed Bey to take this step, was fortunately obliged to abandon his intention, for France has no interest in weakening the authority of the Porte. The dangerous policy of M. Thiers has been almost unanimously condemned by historians, and especially by M. Guizot in his “Mémoires pour servir à l’Histoire de mon Temps.” In 1877 M. Desfossés says in his pamphlet entitled “La Tunisie”:—“_Le Pachalik_ de Tunis est toujours sous la souzerainté de la Turquie.” Thirty years ago Pellissier, in his elaborate and almost complete “Description de la Régence de Tunis,” remarks that “the suzerainty of the Grand Signor is recognised by law, but more in a theological than in a political point of view. The money is struck in his name, and each day at noon his glory and virtues are proclaimed by a herald before an empty armchair which represents his throne.”[3] A few days before Kairwán fell I happened to go to the Bardo palace. The French Protectorate was then six months old, but the herald and his attendant drummers went through the ceremony as heretofore, and invoked the protection of Allah for the Sultan and Caliph.

The most northerly part of Tunis is only divided by some eighty miles of sea from Sicily. Indeed, a line of rocks beneath the waves, known as the Ferki reefs, forms a junction between that island and the Atlas mountains of the African mainland. It is this strait or channel which separates the eastern and western basins of the Mediterranean.

“This Tunis,” as Shakespeare says, “was Carthage.”[4] It afterwards became in turn Africa Propria, Zeugitania, and Byzacium. Numerous authors have handed down to posterity the history of its remote antiquity, but the Tunis of to-day was little better than a _terra incognita_ when the events of the French invasion forced the fact of its existence on the attention of Europe and England. The Gulf of Tunis and the now land-locked harbour of Bizerta command the passage of the narrow sea before them, and hence arises the maritime importance of Tunis in the past, the present, and the future. All writers, except modern diplomatists, fully recognise this fact; but unfortunately the statesmen of to-day are not only intent on deceiving each other, but are forced by the exigencies of party to know as little as possible. If the position of Tunis had been as familiar to Englishmen in 1878 as it is now, we might never have witnessed the events of 1881. “If the Tunis lake were only dredged and deepened,” writes Commandant Villot, “and the coast fortified, and if a powerful navy were stationed in the Tunisian roadstead, not only the path to Egypt, but the road to India through the Suez Canal, would once more be closed to the people of the West.”[5] A concession to dredge and deepen the Tunis lake has, as a matter of course, followed the Treaty of Kasr-es-Said, and although M. Barthélemy Saint-Hilaire wrote to Lord Granville on the 16th May 1881 that “France has no more desire to annex Bizerta than any other part of Tunis,” a project for the restoration of its port by French capitalists is now receiving the serious consideration of the French Government. Mr. Perry in his work on Tunis sums up very fairly the state of the case in a few words. “Tunis,” he writes, “has the finest position in North Africa. Commercial preponderance and the control of the Mediterranean are the attractions for the Powers which dispute with each other for its possession or its neutralisation.”[6]

The Regency of Tunis is bounded on both the north and east by the Mediterranean, on the west by Algeria, on the south by the Sahara of the Touaregs, and on the south-east by Tripoli. It has an area of about sixty thousand square miles, and a sea-coast 550 miles in length. The population of the whole country does not far exceed 1,500,000 souls. The configuration of Tunis is almost identical with that of Algeria. Like Algeria, Tunis has its mountains, its plains, and its coast (_sahel_). Like Algeria, its mineral wealth is almost unequalled. The rocks of Tunis yield nearly all minerals except gold. Its chief river is the Roman Bagradas—the modern Medjerdah, which rises in the Algerian province of Constantine, and after a tortuous course of over three hundred miles reaches the Mediterranean at Porto-Farina near the city of Tunis. The streams in the south of the Regency are comparatively unimportant, and generally end in the great marsh-lakes or Sebkhas of Kairwán, Faráoun, or El Medir.

The face of the country can be conveniently divided into four regions or districts, viz., the Volcanic or mountainous, the Tell or highlands, the Coast, and the Desert. In the neighbourhood of Kef, in Western Tunis, the traces of extinct volcanoes and lava are unmistakable. Mount Betoum in the Khamír or Khroumír country emitted smoke and flames forty years ago. The north and especially the north-west part of the Regency is very hilly, and the richness of its luxuriant oak forests vies with that of the unexplored iron and lead mines which are known to lie beneath them.

The coast is generally low and sandy, but the land which immediately borders it is almost invariably fertile and productive. The salient features of the Tunisian Tell are vast expanses covered sometimes with esparto grass and sometimes with a layer of thin soil. In the winter the vegetation is abundant and luxuriant; in the summer everything is scorched up by the pitiless African sun. The Tell slopes gradually towards the great marsh-lakes of the far south. The Tunisian Sahara is perhaps richer than any part of the desert in fertile oases.

To follow the course of recent events, some slight description of the interior of the country is indispensable. Each of its four natural divisions must be considered briefly in respect of its inhabitants and its resources.

The volcanic or mountainous district consists almost entirely of the basin of the Medjerdah river, which first enters the Regency in the vicinity of Kef. During the winter rains the Medjerdah becomes a wild mountain torrent, and carries down to the Mediterranean with the noise of distant thunder large quantities of mud and stones. As it approaches the sea it traverses a series of fertile valleys, which bear the names of Dakhla, Maïcera, Bizerta, and Tebourba. Another river, the Oued Tin, rises near Beja (the Roman Vaga or Vacca), and finds its way across the fruitful plains of Mater into the Chott Eshkel or inner Bizerta lake (the ancient Sisara Lacus). The town of Mater is built on rising ground and commands the surrounding country. It in no way merits any further description. Roman ruins abound in its vicinity. The tribes which dwell on the banks of the Tin belong to the great Algerian clan of Ali Ben Amar.

Ascending the Medjerdah from the often bombarded town of Porto-Farina, the traveller first arrives at Fondouk, a great centre of inland trade. Beyond Fondouk is Bon Shatar, which was once Utica. It was here that Cato the Younger died. The traces of Carthage’s most powerful rival still convey to the spectator a tolerable idea of its extent and magnificence. The sea which once washed its quays is now barely visible from the site of its citadel. The ruins of its cisterns are now used as stables, while sheep graze peacefully in its ruined amphitheatre. A learned Frenchman has written a charming volume in which he mentally rebuilds Utica,[7] the soil of which still continues to yield an apparently inexhaustible harvest to the excavator. Beyond Bon Shatar are the small towns of Jedeïda and Tebourba. In the former General Hamida Ben Ayad, a great Arab landowner, whose family has for half a century enjoyed British protection, has attempted to construct irrigation works on a somewhat large scale. In the latter is the great Moslem college of Sidi Ghars Allah.

Medjez-el-Bab, Testour, and Teboursak, other towns in the Medjerdah valley, will be described in connection with the story of the French expedition. Still farther to the west is Beja, the market-town of the Khamír tribesmen. Like most Tunisian cities, it is built on a hill, and is surrounded by a crenelated wall flanked with small towers. Portions of these fortifications are evidently of Byzantine origin, and the mosque of Sidi Aïssa appears to have once served as a Christian church. The mountainous districts which lie north and north-west of Beja are the abode of the Khamírs, who are popularly supposed to have occasioned the French invasion of the Regency. Khamír-land and the Khamírs will be spoken of at length in the course of the narrative of the war. Some few miles west of Beja the Medjerdah receives the waters of its principal tributary, the Oued Mellégue. In the valley through which this stream passes is Kef (the Roman Sicca Veneria), a place which has played an important part in Tunisian history, and which is situated at a distance of some thirty miles from the Algerian frontier. It was formerly considered almost impregnable, but its powerful fortifications are now nearly in ruins, and it is susceptible of easy attack from the neighbouring heights. The _Zaouias_ or convent-sanctuaries of Kef are still much frequented, and its markets are thronged by Algerian as well as by Tunisian Arabs.

Another Tunisian stream reaches the Gulf of Tunis near the little town of Rades, close to the Tunisian Piræus of the Goletta, and within sight of the capital itself. It is called the Oued El Kebir (Great River), and near its mouth bears also the name of the Oued Miliana. Rades, as the Roman Addir, once witnessed the great victory of Regulus over the Carthaginians. The Oued Kebir was then the Flumen Catada. Following its course in a south-westerly direction one reaches the modern ruin of the Mohammedia. Ahmed, Bey of Tunis, built a great palace and a town there forty years ago. His greatest pleasure seems to have been to reside there surrounded by his army of 30,000 men. He died in 1855, and both town and palace were abandoned. The timber, the marble, the ironwork, and the tiles have disappeared, and the place has the appearance of a second Pompeii. The great Roman aqueduct close at hand is in far better repair. Its majestic arches still stretch in an unbroken line across the plain, and its canal still brings the famed water of Zaghouán into Tunis itself. On the right bank of the Great River rises the majestic peaks of Zaghouán and Djougár, visible alike from Tunis, Susa, and Holy Kairwán. At the foot of the former mountain is a town bearing its name, built of Roman materials, amidst verdant fruit gardens and running water. Zaghouán has its Roman gateway, as well as a ruined temple. Its limpid spring rises from a Roman vault. Mr. Hodgson, R.A., has immortalised the beauties of Zaghouán in the picture he exhibited in the Royal Academy of 1875.

The coast towns of the Regency are so intimately connected with the story of the last days of its independence that I need say little of them here. Tabarca, Bizerta, Porto-Farina, Galippia, Nebel, Hammamet, Susa, Monastir, Mehdia, Sfax, Mahrés, Gabes, Jerba, Zerzis, and the Tripolitan frontier will all be spoken of at length hereafter. The history of the central district of Tunis will be told with that of its capital—Kairwán.

The Saharian portion of the Tunisian Regency comprises the countries of the Beni Zid, the Nefzaoua, and the Djerid. The mountainous territory of the Beni Zid lies between the lake-marsh or Sebkha Faráoun (by some believed to be the classical _Palus Tritonis_) and the Great Desert. It possesses many fruitful oases, as does also the district of the Nefzaoua, which borders the Faráoun Chott.

The Chott or Sebkha Faráoun almost joins the Chotts of Algeria, and has given rise to one of the most celebrated geographical enigmas of the present century—the _quæstio vexata_ of the Saharian Inland Sea, about which some scores of pamphlets have been written since 1870. The Chott is divided into three distinct portions by the Debdeb or natural bridges. Archæologists would have the uninitiated distinguish in three sheets of water the Palus Tritonis, the Palus Pallac, and the Palus Libyæ of Ptolemy, but any complete and satisfactory identification is of extraordinary difficulty. During the past ten years France has sent two exploring parties to investigate the matter, while Italy has also despatched a special commission, and the conclusion now generally accepted is, that the creation of the inland sea is impossible, and that even if it were practicable, the benefit its existence might confer on North Africa would be very problematical. Sir Richard Wood, C.B., G.C.M.G., Her Majesty’s Agent and Consul-General at Tunis from 1856 to 1878, has written an interesting brochure on the subject.[8] According to Sir Richard Wood, not only is the execution of the scheme prevented by insurmountable natural difficulties, but the attempted identification of the inland marsh-lakes with the lake of Triton is wholly erroneous. He argues with great show of reason that the scene of Jason’s adventure was really the little gulf in the Mediterranean between the island of Djerba and the mainland, which for many reasons may be easily mistaken for an inland sea.

The Djerid, an alternation of sandy plains and green oases, is the abiding place _par excellence_ of the date-palm. Its chief towns are Nefta, Tozer, and Gafsa, and the province is undoubtedly one of the richest in the Regency.

I have endeavoured to describe in as few words as possible the dominion of Tunis. The main object of this book is to furnish the last chapters in its annals, and to tell more particularly the story of its conquest. The unrivalled associations which surround this lately obscure province would naturally tempt one to be discursive at the onset. The chronicles of Carthage, the rise and fall of Roman power on its ruins, the invasions of the Greeks and Vandals, the legends of the African Churches, the Moslem conquest of Tunis from Arabia and of Spain from Tunis, the Crusade of St. Louis, the expedition of Charles V., and yet untold _gesta_ of the Knights of St. John on this part of the African littoral, are one and all a legitimate portion of Tunisian history. My concern is alone with Moslem Tunis. Down to the year 1830 its story has been ably written from a French point of view.[9] Since that time I am not aware that anything like a continuous narrative of events has been attempted. I shall therefore endeavour to take up the thread of M. Rousseau’s story by way of introduction to the more immediate subject of this book. Some knowledge of the previous political history of the Regency is essential to the just appreciation of the events of 1881. Before that time I shall content myself with the briefest résumé, except when I am able to place before the reader certain information which I have gathered from a careful examination of the ancient archives of Her Majesty’s Consulate General at Tunis, and which I trust will be both novel and interesting.