Chapter XXXI: From Tabarca to La Calle

We made a very short stay at Tabarca, only just long enough to obtain the assistance of the Miralai in command to find some trustworthy member of the Khomair tribe to guide us to La Calle, and by his influence to protect us on our way. He induced a highly respected sheikh, Si el-Hadj Hassan, to accompany us, and three of his followers joined us as an escort. We absolutely declined to allow any of the Government hanbas or the Kaid of Badja’s spahis to be of the party, as we were well aware that they were held in small favour, and could render no assistance in these mountains. Throughout our journey they had proved a perfect incubus to us, and though it is impossible to travel in the Bey’s dominion without them, they greatly interfere with the traveller’s enjoyment, and make him painfully conscious that, do what he will, unnecessary exactions are being levied on poor people on his account. In my case this evil was very much lessened by my being able to communicate directly with the natives, but a traveller ignorant of Arabic is entirely in their hands and at their mercy.

There are two roads between Tabarca and La Calle, one by the sea coast, which the Commandant was anxious for us to follow. It has the advantage of being short, though difficult for laden mules, and as it passes through a country almost uninhabited the traveller is less likely to be interfered with by the Khomair. The other is through the very heart of their country, much longer, and in every way more interesting, but it would be quite impossible for a Christian to traverse it without being assured of protection beforehand. This was the unknown region we were anxious to explore, and through which, as far as I am aware, no European has ever passed.

The tribe of Khomair, as the name is usually pronounced—more correctly _Akhmair_ in the plural, and _Khomairi_ in the singular—is one of the largest and most important in the Bey’s dominions. We could not form any accurate estimate of its number, but by all accounts it must have at least 20,000 fighting men, if not more. They are ready enough to admit the suzerainty of the Bey, and to style him _Saidna_, our Lord, so long as their allegiance is confined to this act, but they steadily refuse to permit any interference on his part with their internal government, and pay no taxes or contributions of any kind. On the contrary, their Sheikhs expect to be subsidised by him, and do actually receive presents of _Kisowa_, or raiment, from time to time.

Our guide assured us that the country was overrun at one time by lions and leopards, and that red deer were very common. Persons still living have seen all three, but now they are entirely extinct. This is the more extraordinary, as in the comparatively civilised districts of Algeria, bordering on the Tunisian frontier, lions are still found, panthers are common, and the red deer exists in considerable numbers amongst the forests and mountains of the Beni Salah.

Peyssonnel, in speaking of the country between La Calle and Bone, says: ‘As this country is full of lions, _tigers_, _bears_, and other wild animals, the flocks of the Arabs are often disturbed, and even the Arabs themselves are not safe in their tents, so that they are obliged to place sentinels, who cry out during all the night, and cause the dogs to bark, in order to frighten away these savage and ferocious animals. The lion, the king of beasts, is not so cruel or so much to be feared as is supposed. He rarely attacks men, still Arabs are found here who have fought and killed lions with their knives, after having received numerous wounds, which these terrible animals have inflicted with their claws and teeth. On the sea coast, where there are woods and quantities of wild boars _and deer_ on which the lions feed, these are less dangerous than in the mountains.’[243]

The tigers here mentioned are probably panthers, or some other of the felines found in Algeria. Bears have long been extinct, although the bones of several species have been found in the cave of Djebel Thaya, and the Abbé Poiret, a zealous and accurate naturalist, saw the skin of one brought in during a visit he paid to Bordj Ali Bey, near La Calle, in 1785.[244] The red deer have quite disappeared from the coasts, indeed from every part of Algeria and Tunis, except in the territory of the Beni Salah.

The following interesting remarks on this subject are taken from the Mémoires of the Archæological Society of Constantine for the past year:—

‘While Captain Sergent occupied the position of chief of the Bureau Arabe at Jemmapes, he collected information of the greatest possible interest on the subject of the recent disappearance of the bear.

‘At the commencement of this century the bear was found all over the mountains situated north of Azeba, between the two rivers of Saf-Saf and Oued el-Kebir. It has gradually disappeared from that country, until then inhabited, consequent on the migration of the tribes, who occupied it, elsewhere. The Beni Mahenna have retained the remembrance of a great number of hunters, who passed their lives in pursuing the deer and the bear, on the crests, covered with arbutus, between Djebel ben-Alia and Bou-Kseïba. The most celebrated of these was Ali En-Nahel, belonging to the tribe of Oulad Ataï; several others are also cited by name.

‘There are numerous sayings which perpetuate the remembrance of the bear. Such an one is said to be as rude as a bear, he grumbles like a bear. Rivers, rocks, springs, and even trees have retained the name of this animal, such as Oued Deb, Geläat ed-Deb, Ain ed-Debba, &c. The bear, moreover, is said still to be found in the mountains of Morocco. From an archæological point of view the bear also deserves our attention; like all the great animals of Africa known to the ancients, it figures in the mosaics and on the earthen lamps preserved in our museums.’

The remarks of Bruce before quoted[245] with reference to the Oulad Sidi Bou Ghanim, were equally applicable to the Khomair; one of the reasons of their exemption from taxation was their utility in killing lions. At the present day they are no longer required to destroy wild animals, but they readily admit the obligation under which they lie to guard the frontier in their lord’s interests against all comers, and so well do they perform this duty, that I am not aware of any Europeans having been permitted to pass through it but ourselves.

There is a general opinion that this tribe is of Berber origin. I am not aware of any direct authority for this hypothesis. There is, of course, a strong presumption that the original Berber stock would have lingered in a purer condition in these inhospitable mountains, than in other parts of the country more liable to be overrun by the Arab conquerors. The Khomair are tall and stalwart fellows, with a bold and fearless demeanour, very different to that of the Arab of the present day; but these are characters which their wild and active life could hardly fail to engraft on any stock; they do not claim any affinity with the Kabyles or Chawia, they speak no other language than Arabic, and we saw no traces amongst them of light hair, blue eyes, or a fair European complexion, such as are so frequently met with both in the Aures Mountains and in the Kabylia of Djurdjura. When pressed to give an account of their origin, they universally declared themselves to be of Arab descent, but that their forefathers came from the _Gharab_, or West, somewhere in the kingdom of Morocco.

Ibn Khaldoun, in his history of the Berbers,[246] makes no allusion to this tribe, though he mentions an Arab one, the name of which is somewhat similar in its European guise, though totally different in Arabic, the _Ghomara_ inhabiting the mountains of the Riff country. He derives their name from the root غَمَرَ to overflow, on account of the manner in which they, being Arabs, overran the Berber country. He says that they are broken up into an innumerable number of branches and families all over the country, and are found even as far as Tripoli. It is hardly possible that these races can be identical, for although there are certain letters in the Arabic language susceptible of transposition, it is unlikely that the خ _kh_ should ever take the place of غ _gh_.

Berbers do exist in this valley; we met numbers of the Kabyle race of Zoaoua (whence the modern word _Zouave_) whose ancestors came from the Kabylia of Djurdjura to take military service under the Government of the Bey; these men were the Swiss of Africa, and went all over the country, as far even as the Pentapolis, as mercenary soldiers.

We had spent the previous evening in a most pleasant and instructive manner amongst our new friends, and were delighted at the idea of passing through their country to La Calle, and perhaps of returning on some future occasion to explore it more thoroughly. As we suspected, the tales of their barbarity and ferocity were very greatly exaggerated; at the same time, I confess I should not like to go far into their country without being accompanied by an influential member of the tribe, who would be responsible for my safety.

We started from Tabarca at 9·15 a.m., and followed the left bank of the Oued el-Ahmer (_Red River_), the most westerly of the three which drain the valley of the Oued el-Kebir. We proceeded in a south-westerly direction along a tolerably well-cleared path, made by the Tunisian Government for the purpose of bringing timber down to the coast. Even in the driest weather there is always a considerable body of water in the river, and now it was swollen by several days’ hard rain. Beautiful rills and mountain streams descended at every few hundred yards to add their tribute to the torrent; the banks were in some places clothed with ivy and ferns, and everywhere densely shaded by handsome trees, ilex, chêne zan (_Quercus Mirbeckii_), aspens, and hawthorns of such gigantic stature as fully to merit the appellation of forest trees; while the ground was carpeted with a profusion of wild flowers of every hue—blue pimpernel, centaury, valerian, pink and white cistus, myrtles, wild roses and yellow broom.

Instead of the koubbas so common in other parts of the country, the tombs of holy men are here marked by a few stones, broken pots, and one or two white flags stuck amongst them. The first that we met was that of Sidi Bou Firnan (_My Lord, the father of cork oaks_), who had possessed a number of these useful trees before his beatitude. As our guide passed his rustic shrine, he stopped a moment, held his hands open as if they were a book, and muttered a short prayer. The good Hadj is a holy man himself; he has made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and is delighted to find that I have been to Arabia, and have visited Jerusalem and especially Kerouan, next to Mecca and Medina, the most holy city in the eyes of Western Mohammedans. He is never tired of telling everyone he meets the marvellous tale, and of communicating the fact that the English are the most faithful friends the Sultan has, and are almost Mohammedans themselves. It is not in the heart of the Khomair country, that one would try to controvert this theory of his.

After having ridden for about five miles, we crossed the Oued el-Ahmer, and entered a country called El-Baiadha, now a moor of tree heath, but once a great forest, as the blackened stumps of trees, destroyed by fire, attest. Here and there a few Aleppo pines and junipers are still found, and on the summit of the hill, about 1,100 feet above the sea, and under a gigantic oak, we observed the first appearance of Roman colonisation in this district. Only a few cut stones remain, but there could be no doubt regarding their origin.

We now descended into the valley of the Oulad Sidera, which runs in a north-easterly direction for a distance of fifteen or twenty miles. We entered it at about the broadest part, where it had a width of rather more than a mile. A short distance lower down the hills converge, forming a narrow gorge called Khangat el-Hadeed, or _the iron pass_; but as our route lay in an opposite direction, we were unable to examine it. Beyond it again appeared the high peak of Djebel Atatfa, but the hills which bound the valley itself appear to have no other name than that of the tribe which inhabits them.

If a poet or a painter wished to depict a valley ‘sacred to sweet peace,’ he could do no better than take for his model that of the Oulad Sidera. It is admirably cultivated throughout, and from every direction beautiful sparkling streams join the river, which flows along the bottom. The pasturage is rich and succulent, and the brilliant carmine of some of the clovers contrasted with the bright yellow of other species, nestling in a carpet of green, still fresh and wet with the late rains, added a richness to the landscape, which can nowhere be seen in a more northern country.

Not only by the river banks, but along the bottom of the hills, and indeed here and there throughout the whole course of the valley, are trees of very unusual size. As a rule, the cork oaks in Africa do not attain the dimensions they do in Spain; yet here we saw some not less than fifty or sixty feet high, and with trunks four feet in diameter. I also observed, what I had seen nowhere but at the Fontaine des Princes in the Forest of Edough, ancient trees of various kinds, the upper surface of whose branches was covered with a thick layer of moss, out of which grew masses of polypodium and other ferns. This is the best possible certificate of climate, for in a locality subject to great heat or drought, especially in one exposed to the sirocco wind, such vegetation could not exist during a single summer.

The villages throughout the district we traversed were carefully concealed from observation, and sites have been chosen high up on the crests of the hills, with the double object, no doubt, of defence and economy of space. The huts are rude and squalid, built generally of branches of trees and diss grass, sometimes with a little plastering of mud. Near the upper end of the valley of the Oulad Sidera, under the shade of some grand old olive-trees, whose age it is impossible to conjecture, stand the remains of a Roman farm. The walls are still in some places fifteen feet high, built of small hammer-dressed stones, with finely-cut masonry at the angles, and here and there an upright course of similar stones in the walls. The building was rectangular, twenty-two paces long by twenty wide, regular in shape except at one corner, where was probably the entrance gate. The interior was so thickly overgrown with briars and weeds that we could detect no remains of partitions.

We saw other ruins further up, and heard of the existence of many more, so that there can be no doubt that even these inaccessible mountains must have been occupied in a serious manner by the Romans.

Peaceful and smiling as this valley seems, it is occupied by a sturdy and truculent race, whom one would rather meet as friends than as foes, and it is the refuge of all the unquiet spirits who have made the plains of Tunis or the frontiers of Algeria too hot to hold them. While we were examining the ruins I have just described, a party of ill-looking fellows kept creeping up to us, dodging from tree to tree, to escape as much as possible our observation. No sooner, however, did they see our friend the Hadj, than they seemed to conclude that all was right; they came forward at once and saluted him with great respect, kissing the palms of each others’ hands. Then I overheard a whispered conversation—

‘Who are they?’

‘English travellers going to La Calle.’

‘By the life of the Prophet, are they English?’

‘Certainly, or you would not have seen them with me. This one has been to Arabia, Jerusalem and Kerouan!’

‘Wallah! has he really?’

‘By the life of your head he has!’

This seemed to satisfy them entirely: we became excellent friends, and they allowed us to examine their arms and curious leathern pouches in the most affable manner. Each had a short straight sword, not much longer than an English drummer-boy’s, with an old-fashioned flint pistol; and two or three leathern bags curiously worked, one containing flint and steel, another powder and ball, a third a small knife, and some had a larger one to contain miscellaneous articles. They laughed at our temerity in coming into their country, through which they assured us that no European had ever before passed; but as the English were such faithful friends of the Sultan, and in the habit of visiting holy places like Kerouan and Jerusalem—in fact, so nearly Mohammedans, we were welcome, and might go where we pleased. I laughingly asked them what they would have done had we been French. My friend gave a broad grin, and passed his forefinger across his throat in reply. Perhaps they might not have adopted such extreme measures; but it is quite certain, that there is not a man along the frontier line, who would permit a Frenchman to advance a step after he was observed; and even an Englishman would find it impossible to penetrate from Algeria. The Khomair are very like Arabs everywhere else when removed from civilisation, wild and fanatical while their suspicions are aroused, but as tractable as children when these are allayed. When a traveller can make them laugh, the victory is gained; hence our success with the pot of jam.

The disturbances in European Turkey had broken out not very long before our visit, and we were much interested to observe the eagerness with which they demanded news of ‘the Black Mountain,’ for under that designation they seemed to include all the disturbed districts; but though they were in a state of great excitement, and would no doubt have marched without the least hesitation to attack a body of Christians anywhere near, if thereby they could have aided in the Holy War, I doubt whether their love of the Sultan, or their attachment to El-Islam would have carried them the length of forming a contingent to go to the scene of war in his defence.

We had not a chance of forming an opinion of the fair sex in this happy valley; every woman, who observed us in the distance, fled into the woods affrighted at the unwonted spectacle.

About half-past two we arrived at the Oued Froor, a picturesque mountain stream, which marks the French frontier; we had some difficulty in getting our baggage animals across—several times their loads slipped off—and we had to enlist the assistance of some of the Khomair, whom we saw there, to enable us to cut a way through the thick brushwood on the Tunisian side. They were most obliging and willing to help us in our difficulties without the least expectation of reward. One of them asked our aid in his trouble—his brother had a wife and baby, the former of whom, on account of some matrimonial difference, had fled over the frontier, and would not listen to any proposition of reconciliation. We could only advise him to apply to the French authorities, who are ever ready to lend their willing assistance in such matters.

Their rule on the frontier is extremely just and paternal. The hatred, with which they are regarded by such tribes as the Oulad Sidera, is the inevitable result of a well-organised system of government, coming into such close contact with savages unrestrained by any power save their own will.

Shortly after crossing the frontier we saw on our left, on the further side of a steep ravine, an important Roman ruin. Time would not permit us to inspect it closely, but it appeared to be either a fortress or a large agricultural establishment. The natives could not tell me whether it contained any inscribed stones, but they said that there were representations of rams and other animals sculptured on the walls. This is called by them El-Kasr, _the palace_, and the valley Oued el-Kasr. It is the spot marked on M. de St. Marie’s map as _Ouksir R. R._, but the configuration of the ground, and especially the course of the river, on this map are altogether incorrect.

The Oued Froor, where we passed it, flows in a south-easterly direction, but I had no means of ascertaining its ultimate course. It appeared to be an affluent of some other stream, which probably joins the Oued Oulad Sidera, and not to flow directly towards the Mediterranean.

The river of the Oulad Sidera flows in a similar direction, and is probably an affluent of the Oued el-Kebir in the upper part of its course.

The French have not shown their usual sagacity in fixing the boundaries of their colony, or rather I should say a desire to avoid even the appearance of encroaching on their neighbours, and perhaps some pressure from other European Powers, has induced them to abandon much valuable territory, which, if the prescription of eighteen centuries deserves to be taken into account, undoubtedly belonged to Algeria.

After the fall of Jugurtha, 106 B.C., the country between the east coast of Tunis and the Atlantic was divided into three provinces, Africa proper, Numidia and Mauritania. At subsequent periods these were further subdivided, but two great landmarks remained constant during all the political and geographical changes of North Africa—the river _Tusca_, or Oued el-Kebir, formed the eastern boundary of Numidia, and the _Malua_ or _Molochath_, the modern Molouia, the western one of Mauritania Cæsariensis, dividing it from Tingitana, the present Empire of Morocco.

These boundaries continued, almost to the period of the French conquest, to limit the territory owning allegiance to the Dey of Algiers and the Bey of Constantine. When the present boundary question had to be settled, the French naturally claimed the line of the Tusca on the east; the Tunisians as stoutly contended that La Calle belonged to them; so a compromise was effected fixing Cape Roux as the limit; about as unsatisfactory and undefined a frontier line as it is possible to conceive.

The same thing happened to the west. The French claimed the ancient line; the Moroccans demanded the Tafna, and, as a compromise, the Kiss was accepted—a small river which does not run more than twelve miles along the boundary line. This latter compromise was the less necessary as the country in dispute was actually in the military occupation of the French. The consequence is, that Algeria has no natural frontiers at all, and it has on either side of it one of the strongest, most warlike and most turbulent tribes in North Africa, the Khomair to the east and the Beni Snassen to the west.

Some little distance from where we crossed the frontier, not perhaps more than two miles in a direct line, though we traversed very much more ground to reach it, is a douar of Arabs; and a ruined stone building, called Bordj el-Aïoun, _Castle of the Wells_, from which a high road, very rough at first, but gradually improving, leads through a magnificent forest of cork oak to the copper mines of Kef Omm-et-Taboul, a large and prosperous establishment exporting 600,000 francs’ worth of mineral per annum, situated on the last slope of the mountain, and so past the fine fresh-water lake of Guerah el-Hout (_lake of fish_), along the plain to La Calle, where we arrived, men and beasts both thoroughly exhausted, at half-past eight at night. Our day’s march, measured on the map, was not perhaps more than from 28 to 30 miles, but we must have actually gone over at least 44 miles of ground. Our horses, which had borne us so bravely all the way from Susa, here gave in entirely; on the following day they were unable to move, but the baggage mules were as fresh as ever, and seemed absolutely incapable of fatigue.

La Calle is the nearest French town to the Tunisian frontier, and though it has a very small and inconvenient harbour, it is the headquarters of the coral-fishery, and a place daily rising in importance. The old town was contained within the present fortifications, built on a ridge of rocks about 400 yards long, surrounded by the sea, except on the east side, where a bank of sand 150 yards in length connects it with the land. A new town has been built on the mainland, and there is a project for creating a military port and harbour of refuge at a short distance to the west. A new and highly profitable branch of trade has sprung up within the last few years, the salting and preparation of sardines, which bids fair to become one of the staple industries of Algeria. But its former history interested us more than its actual condition. The traveller going from Bone to Tunis usually touches here for a short time, and it is right that he should know what an important part it once played in the relations between France and the Barbary States.

The French Compagnie d’Afrique was established under Louis XIV. Its principal factory was at first established at the Bastion de France, and its object was to fish for coral and to purchase grain; in the latter pursuit it had as a rival an English company established at La Calle, but on its failure, the entire trade fell into the hands of the French, for which privilege, however, they were obliged to pay very heavy taxes to the Government of Algiers and the Bey of Constantine. Gradually, as the coral fisheries began to fail, the Company devoted itself more to commerce, and purchased large quantities of cereals, wool, leather and wax.

An interesting picture of life at La Calle is given by the Abbé Poiret, who travelled in Barbary from 1785 to 1786.

When he landed, the country round was being devastated by the plague, and the _comptoir_ of the French jealously barricaded its gates to prevent all communication with the interior. The Arabs, irritated and jealous at seeing the Christians exempt from a disease which was committing such cruel ravages amongst themselves, tried by every means in their power to introduce the contagion. They buried plague-stricken corpses at the gates of La Calle, and they threw rags saturated with virus over the walls, and, independently of these secret attacks, a continued and open state of hostility seemed to prevail. La Calle was governed by an agent, having the title of governor, with about fifteen other officers under his direction. The Arabs were excluded from the place, with the exception of a few who were retained as hostages, or who were employed in manual labour. The inhabitants were from three to four hundred, mostly Corsicans and natives of Provence. Some were employed in the coral fishery; others, with the name of soldiers, were occupied in guarding the cattle when taken outside for pasture. Sometimes these same soldiers, in the guise of carters, were sent to the neighbouring forests to cut wood. Others, called _frégataires_, were occupied in loading vessels, transporting corn, cleaning the port, and similar works, and there was in addition a staff of bakers, blacksmiths, masons and other artificers. All these employés were paid, fed and lodged by the Company, but the fair sex was rigorously excluded. If sometimes the Governor was permitted to bring his wife, serious troubles were sure to result, and he was rarely able to keep her there for any length of time.

The climate was then exceedingly unhealthy. Violent fevers were of constant occurrence, which carried off their victims in four days, and the mortality amongst the employés was immense.

These were people of the worst character, as the Company received indiscriminately all applicants, without asking any questions. Most of them were convicts who had escaped from justice in France, men lost through libertinage and debauch, without principles of religion, or the least sentiment of probity.

At La Calle it was only the worst crimes of which any cognisance was taken, all others were allowed to go without punishment, as the Governor had only the shadow of authority, and it was necessary to humour this nest of ruffians always ripe for revolt. In addition to the heavy taxes paid directly to the State, the Company was subjected to indirect taxation to an enormous extent, and was also subjected to the most humiliating restrictions. It was compelled to feed all the Arabs, who chose to present themselves. If an Arab killed a Christian he was liable to a fine of 300 piastres as blood money, which was never paid, but in the event of a Christian killing an Arab, he was forced to pay 500 piastres, which sum was exacted to the last farthing. The Company was not permitted to appoint its own interpreters; these were always named by the State, and the only qualification, that appeared to be required, was sufficient sagacity to enable him to betray the Christian.

In 1806 Mr. Blanckley, the British Consul-General at Algiers, contracted with the Dey for the possession of Bone and La Calle, which latter had been a century and a half in the hands of the French, whose contract had expired. 50,000 dollars, or 11,000_l._, was the sum agreed on as an annual rent. This was actually paid for some years, without any result following, save that of keeping out the French for a time.[247] La Calle was re-occupied by the French on July 15, 1836, shortly after the capture of Bone.

Here our journey may be said to have terminated; we dismissed our horses and attendants, bade adieu to our Khomair friends, who had accompanied us so far, and proceeded in an open boat to Bone, where we took the steamer to Algiers.

In these two journeys, though I have not actually followed the route of Bruce, I have visited every place of importance which he described, and, with the single exception of Hydra, I have examined and described every ruin which he drew, in Algeria and Tunis.

I could not spare time to follow him in the Belad el-Djerid and eastward to the Pentapolis. There I must leave him to tell his own tale, illustrating this as far as I can by the descriptions of more recent travellers. The temptation to follow him to Tripoli was very great, but I was reconciled to the impossibility of doing this by the knowledge that Mr. Edward Rae, who has already earned the reputation of being an intelligent traveller and an accurate observer, had just returned from a journey through that country and the southern parts of Tunis, including Kerouan. I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance at Tunis, and I have little doubt that his ‘Country of the Moors,’ which is being published simultaneously with the present work, will give much valuable information regarding these little-known regions. It will materially contribute to elucidate the diary of Bruce, which unfortunately is out of all proportion, as regards interest, to his admirable architectural drawings. How different the case would have been, but for that disastrous shipwreck at Bengazi!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 243: Peyssonnel, ap. Dureau de la Malle, i. p. 272.]

[Footnote 244: Poiret, i. p. 238.]

[Footnote 245: _Ante_, p. 188.]

[Footnote 246: Ibn Khaldoun, trad. de Slane, ii. p. 134.]

[Footnote 247: Mrs. Broughton, _Six Years in Algiers, from 1806 to 1812_, p. 429.]