Part 13

Timgad is situate thirty-four miles to the east of Batna, on the fine modern road which proceeds through the Aurès range to Khenchela and Ain-Beida. You may cover the distance in a motor-car within the hour, and you will pass on the way the ruins of Lambessa. These, however, are scarcely worth the prolonged attention of anyone who is not an archæologist, and such picturesque qualities as they may possess are ruined by the proximity of a huge convict prison. The ordinary sightseer, snatching a few hours between two trains, will hasten on to Timgad. The drive itself is very interesting. The road is undulating and at one point ascends to a considerable altitude, and in its way the scenery is impressive. We traverse a great rolling plain which from end to end is one vast cornfield. There is a bare range of hills to the north, and to the south the Aurès mountains, guardians of the desert, with the snow still, in March, lying among their topmost cedars. At the highest point of the road we meet a driving storm of sleet. We are inclined to resent the general treelessness of the landscape, but much may be forgiven to a corn-growing country, and imagination revels in what must be its glory when the crop is ripe for harvesting. But for its fertility the general contour of the country has a very South African appearance. The soil appears to be “rather light,” and, no doubt, nothing but the copious rainfall which the Aurès mountains bring redeems it from the miserable barrenness of the high plateaux to the south of Algiers.

At last you come to Timgad, and you see at a glance that you are face to face with what the Americans call “a big proposition.” A whole hill-side is covered with the dry bones of a town—a town of which the top seems to have been sliced off, with here and there groups of columns or an arch or two rising from the dismantled mass.

It has been given to few great towns to spring into being at one leap. The growth of towns is usually that of mundane things in general, a gradual process liable to interference from many exterior influences. But Timgad rose full armed from the fiat of the Emperor, as Athene from the brain of Zeus. Trajan said, “Let there be a city,” and there was a city. It was no mushroom growth to serve a temporary purpose. It lasted more or less intact for six hundred years, and but for the hand of destroying man it might have lasted six thousand. This is its dominating note,—its huge, its almost unnecessary solidity. And from the circumstances of its birth it presents a fine example of Roman town-planning. British municipal corporations which are concerned in putting into practice our newborn aspirations in such matters should not omit to send a deputation to study Timgad on the spot.

But perhaps even with the disquieting possibility of a foreign raid on our shores, denied by our politicians with such emphasis that we are led to believe in its existence, it is not necessary for us to base the plan of our towns on the arrangements of a camp. Such was the underlying plan of Timgad. It was divided, as was the conventional Roman camp, into four parts by two main intersecting streets. That which led from east to west was called _decumanus_, that which pointed north and south _cardo_. The former was a portion of the main road from Lambessa to Tebessa, and was doubtless the most used in the town. Its solid pavement shows the wear of wheels, as do the streets of Pompeii. It was naturally at the junction of these streets that the chief buildings were situate. Here is the Forum, with the Theatre behind it and the Municipal Library in front. Looking east from the Forum along the _decumanus_ we see the magnificent Triumphal Arch, the most impressive monument in the town. It is also the best preserved, and thanks to its existence the attention of scholars was called to Timgad in the first instance. With the aid of the excellent and well-illustrated handbook prepared by M. Albert Ballu, Architecte en chef des Monuments historiques de l’Algerie, the visitor will be able to identify and study the whole of the works excavated and restored. Probably most visitors to Timgad will have previously seen Pompeii, and will have some general acquaintance with the arrangements of a Roman town and the nature of its public buildings. Timgad will introduce them to some new features; of its Public Library and the romance of its discovery I shall speak later; it has a remarkably complete series of markets; and the public conveniences behind the Forum will interest those who are concerned about sanitary matters.

However satiated with the wonders of the town itself the visitor should not omit to visit the Museum. Here amid the usual assemblage of mediocre Roman antiquities he will find some mosaic pavements of the highest excellence.

Perhaps we are most of us disposed to be more interested in comparatively trivial matters of decoration and so forth than in the structure and disposal of important edifices. We are not all architects and town-planners. And here we may take especial delight in a little piece of evidence that even in this frontier city life was not all strenuous. On a stone of the Forum are graven the following words:—

VENARI LAVARI LUDERE RIDERE OCCEST VIVERE

“Hunting, bathing, play and laughter,—such is life.” This symmetrical arrangement of letters is divided by a device consisting of a vase of flowers surmounted by a bird. It speaks to us across the ages a pleasant message; in such happy human touches Timgad is less rich than Pompeii. And perhaps neither town has anything so delightful as the mosaics found in a bath and a stable at Oued Atmenia between Constantine and Sétif, on the site of a considerable Roman country house. The mosaics in the baths depict various incidents of rural life;—hunting scenes in which huntsmen and hounds are named, a garden scene with a lady spinning under a palm tree. One mosaic represents six favourite horses with inscriptions recording their names and qualities;—with Pullentianus is stabled Altus, “unus es ut mons exultas”—"you have no peer, you leap mountain-high"; Delicatus, “the gentle one,” stands alone; Titas, “the giant,” shares a manger with Polydoxus, “the glorious”; “vincas non vincas te amamus Polydoxe,”—"win or lose we love you, Polydoxus." In a corner by himself stands Scholasticus, “the Scholar.” In the scene representing a stag-hunt, the master himself appears with his hounds, Fidelis and Castus. Other mosaics represent the farm, the fish-ponds with aquatic plants, the quarters of the huntsmen and the mansion-house itself. This is a large building with several storeys and numerous windows, surmounted by a balcony or awning. The buildings are roofed with square red tiles, and chimneys appear below the ridge. “This remarkable series of mosaics gives some insight into Roman life and customs in North Africa at the close of the fourth century, and bears striking testimony to the peaceful condition of the country in the declining years of the Empire. Sixteen centuries have passed since Pompeianus presided over this lordly retreat, as a patron of the turf and a lover of sport in all its aspects. A few years after his decease the disturbing influence of the invading Vandals must have rendered the maintenance of such an establishment an absolute impossibility, and one can picture the life work of this distinguished Roman neglected, abandoned, and finally becoming a mere hunting-ground for Vandal or Byzantine, Arab or Moor.”[10]

Footnote 10:

Graham, “Roman Africa,” 1902, p. 294.

It has often been suggested that the great prosperity of this region under the Empire was due to a climate superior to that of to-day; that there was in fact a more abundant rainfall and a more equable temperature. The Romans left us no weather statistics (an essentially modern passion), and such evidence as we have appears to be against the theory. The lakes in the province of Constantine were no greater than they are to-day; Roman ruins on their banks attest this. Roman bridges exist here and there throughout the country, and they were not designed to span wider rivers or to resist heavier floods. But this does not settle the matter. It is certain that there was far more timber; the Arab has continually destroyed and he does not plant. The rainfall of to-day is probably less continuous and more uncertain. Yet we cannot believe that the climate is seriously changed. Sallust complains that in Africa both sky and earth have too little water. But the Romans made the best of what there was. The remains of their canals and cisterns are everywhere. In the country to the south of Sétif they dug hundreds of wells, many of which still exist. They barred the course of rivers and created reservoirs. Their extensive works of irrigation are described by Procopius, and appear to be exactly similar to those now in use. Elaborate water-rights existed. A monument found at Lambasba sets forth the number of olives and fruit trees which every farmer possessed and the number of hours of running water to which he was entitled. This system of reckoning a right to water-supply by hours is still in vogue in the island of Madeira, and probably elsewhere. Every effort was made to encourage planting. Exemptions from taxation for a certain number of years were granted to cultivators who planted vines or olives, or grafted the wild olive. Olive oil was exported to Rome in enormous quantities; fragments of jars found in the Tiber bear the mark of Tubusuctu, a town near Bougie. Such facts go to show that the great prosperity of North Africa was rather due to intelligent use of its resources than to any superiority of those resources. This prosperity seems to have reached its culminating point under the dynasty of Septimius Severus, himself a native of Africa. The fact that he died at York illustrates the extent of his empire. He and his son Caracalla showered favours on their compatriots, as numerous inscriptions attest.

Arab writers of the seventh century bear ample testimony to the fertility of the territory which had fallen so easily into their hands. From Carthage to Tangier, a thousand miles east and west, the whole country was clothed with olive woods, and it was said that you could walk from village to village beneath a roof of foliage. Therein they have written the condemnation of their successors. A pleasant story is told that the Arab chief who defeated Gregorius expressed his amazement at the richness of the land. “Whence comes this wealth?” he said. A peasant picked up an olive and laid it before the conqueror, saying, “From this.” And he added that the Byzantines who had no olives in their country were Africa’s best customers.

Timgad is interesting and impressive in itself; in general as a town surviving through the ages almost untouched at least in its ground plan; and in particular for its several very uncommon and very informing details. But it is even more noteworthy in its suggestiveness. It flashes to us across a yawning chasm a message from a distant past, a message from a civilization not essentially different from our own; a civilization based on ordered liberty and individual effort, on public spirit and service, on private wealth amassed in agricultural and commercial enterprise; anticipating in its municipal buildings and in the dwellings of its citizens, rich and poor, with sufficient resemblance the conditions of our own life, public and domestic; yet reckoned in the lapse of centuries and the generations of men of an almost incredible remoteness, a remoteness emphasized, as everything is emphasized in this land of staring contrasts, by the hopeless barbarism and neglect which have filled the intervening gulf. Yet there are differences. The city stood on the very frontier of the Empire, but it was not built as men build in such situations to-day. Its solidity and magnificence suggest great local pride, the pride of wealthy citizens, who preferred to adorn their own city to spending their money as strangers in the “smart” world of Italy, who chose rather to rule in Africa than to serve in Rome; and they are evidence of provincial prosperity and contentment during that great second century which Gibbon regarded as the happiest period mankind had known. And we cannot suppress our surprise that the very existence of such a town is scarcely known to us from historical sources. If it were not for its ruins very few among scholars would have heard the mean of Thamagudi. In any endeavour to picture to ourselves the Empire as a whole such a fact is of great significance. And with such throbbing life at its extremities it is difficult to regard the heart as unsound.

The contemplation of such a town as Timgad helps us to realize the compelling force of Rome’s unequalled genius. On this remote frontier of her Empire we may trace to-day the same motives in building—all that meets the eye—which were dominant in the mother city. “In every branch of art, whether in sculpture, painting as displayed in the decorative forms of mosaic, or in architectural design, the same monumental remains await our coming; the basilica, the amphitheatre, the triumphal arch; the aqueduct and the fountain; the bridge, the temple and the tomb. They stand before us as examples of dignity of conception, unerringness of line, justness of proportion, fitness of purpose and soundness of construction.”[11] We see nothing but the remains of these buildings, but we may assume from them that in more vital matters,—in law, in public life, in the family and in individual habits the pattern set by the capital was equally predominant. And we may further reflect that Rome’s influence was not merely geographical in extent; it did not perish with her fall. Modern civilization is essentially Roman. The Roman’s “laws, his language, his literature, his festivals, even his calendar, keep their ground.” The Roman tradition is ingrained in our minds and conduct, and in small things as in great we unconsciously and as a matter of course pursue the Roman model. And it may be that the desperate struggle for the hegemony of Europe—and Africa—now proceeding is heralding the evolution of another Empire on Roman lines.

Footnote 11:

Graham, “Roman Africa,” p. 304.

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_XI—A PUBLIC LIBRARY_

A romantic find—A municipal library of the third century—A Roman Carnegie—Christian Africa—The Donatists—Genseric the Vandal— Justinian—Timgad and Pompeii.

“They say that scholars thronged the column’d court; To drain reluctant learning’s cup they sought; Lo! all to utter nothingness have passed, Alike for book and scholar life is short.”

Among the buildings unearthed at Timgad there is one which, from its nature and the fact that it is unique, or almost unique, is especially interesting, and merits particular attention. The learned world has long been aware that the Public Library, which is a comparatively recent addition to most of our own towns, was a Roman institution. The allusions of Latin authors tell us so much; there were twenty-eight public libraries at Rome in the fourth century; and we gather from inscriptions that there is nothing original about Mr. Carnegie, except the extent of his munificence. The public libraries of provincial cities were often due to the liberality of wealthy citizens, and once established they were frequently enriched by the gifts and bequests of others. By a succession of fortunate accidents, which happily illustrate the romantic side of excavation, the Public Library of Timgad has been found and identified beyond question. This fact in itself gives a very special distinction to the ruins.

In 1901, in clearing a block of buildings in the Cardo, not far from the principal gate of the Forum, the nature of which was unknown, the excavators found a broken portion of an inscription. It seemed to refer to the dedication of the building as a public institution, but threw no light on its nature. It was vaguely considered to be a school or _salle de réunion_. The mutilated inscription was as follows:—

VINTIANI FLAVI RO MENTO SUO REIPUBLICAE SIUM PATRIAE SUAE LE EX IS CCCC MIL. NUM CTUM EST

This merely indicated that the building had been erected at a cost of 400,000 sesterces, or about £4000, as a result of a legacy of one Q. F. Ro——.

In 1904, in the course of some digging in a neighbouring house, a little to the north, a second fragment of this inscription was found. It fitted exactly to the left-hand side of the former fragment, and read as follows:—

TE M IVLI Q AD TESTA VGADEN OTHECAE A PERFE

This was very tantalizing; it did not explain the exact object of the building, but it proved that it could only be something of which the Latin name ended in the letters OTHECA. Now in the Latin language there are five such words;—_pinacotheca_, a picture gallery; _apotheca_, a wine-shop; _oporotheca_, a store-room for fruit; _zotheca_, an apartment with niches for statuary; _bibliotheca_, a library. Of these the only words at all applicable were the two last. Between them the usual controversy of _savants_ arose; much could be said, and was said, on either side. From the first the advocates of the library seemed to have the best of it. They based their arguments on the nature of the building. It occupies with its dependencies a rectangular space measuring 77 by 80 feet. Its principal front, facing east, is composed of a portico in the form of a letter U sustained by twelve columns of white calcareous stone, framing a court which opens on to the street. On each side of the portico was an entrance to two partially open chambers, bounded by two side streets leading to the Cardo. Behind these was a great central hall with a room on either side of it, each having a niche at the further end. The termination of the hall was of semicircular form; on each side of it were six detached columns of white marble, corresponding to the same number of pilasters in the wall, between each side pair of which was a square recess. In the middle of the semicircle was a larger and deeper recess, which doubtless contained a statue. The advocates of the _zotheca_ theory urged that the main purpose of the building was to be the shrine of an important statue, bequeathed by Quintianus Flavus Ro—— to his mother city. The case for a library seemed stronger and more attractive. It was suggested that the rectangular recesses were receptacles for volumes or rolls of papyrus, and that benches or steps which led up to them from the centre of the building were intended to serve as seats for readers. The detached columns were considered to have supported two upper galleries containing a second set of bookcases, while the great niche at the end was an architectural feature, doubtless containing a statue of Minerva. The head of such a statue was found in the neighbourhood. The two side rooms were held to be further store-rooms for books; one of them, having a door into the street, perhaps reserved for the use of the librarian. There are indications of recesses in their walls also. The great hall, it was observed, was exceptionally well lighted by a skylight in the vaulted roof of its semicircular portion, and therefore very suitable for reading.

The question was settled in 1906,—on the 17th of March, at five p.m.,—as M. Ballu records with exulting precision. In making an experimental hole beside the Cardo, a workman drove his pick against a fragment of inscribed stone, which proved to be the missing piece containing the first portion of the inscription. The supporters of the library theory were right. The words on the stone were as follows:—

EX LIBERALITA GATIANI. C.M.V. QV COLONIAE THAM GAVIT OPUS BIBLI CVRANTE REPVBLIC

“There is no necessity,” says M. Ballu, “to tell with what joy we received a telegram announcing this discovery. It was the consecration of our suppositions, certitude succeeding to probabilities, which had nevertheless not left much room for doubt. It was, above all, a revelation of the arrangements of those ancient Roman libraries of which so many Latin authors speak; but as to the construction of which we possessed no evidence.”

The full inscription is to the following effect:—

“Out of the funds bequeathed by Marcus Julius Quintianus Flavus Rogatianus, of senatorial memory, by his will to the colony of Thamagudi his mother city, the erection of a library has been completed at a cost of 400,000 sesterces, under the direction of the city authority.”

The name of this benefactor is otherwise unknown. The building which bears it was well built of fine materials, with marble columns, and marble veneerings to the walls, of which copious fragments have been found. Among these fragments are some of particularly fine coloured marbles which perhaps adorned the niche in which stood the statue of the presiding goddess. The pavement, which remains, is of a very finished type.

It is not possible to assign a precise date to the building, but it is considered to be of the third century. It doubtless took the place of an _insula_, or large private house isolated by four streets, of which other examples line the Cardo. It occupies a rather larger space than these houses; the semicircular portion of the hall extends into the back street, and on the south side the normal width of the street is reduced by it.

A somewhat fanciful calculation has been made of the number of books which the library might contain; and the figure of 6800 for the interior hall, and 16,200 for the other chambers, has been arrived at. This seems to be carrying reconstitution a little too far.

There are some to whom Timgad is the most interesting place in Algeria; to many antiquaries, and perhaps to many of that large class which is concerned one way or another about all that appertains to books, this Public Library, identified beyond all cavil by such happy fortune, will be Timgad’s most interesting building.

It may be noted that about the time of the discovery of this library, the Austrian Archæological Institute, in the course of excavations on the site of Ephesus, found a building in many respects similar to this one. An inscription in Greek and Latin left no doubt that it was a library. Its form is rectangular instead of semicircular, but it possesses a niche at the end for the statue of Minerva, and the walls contain similar recesses for the reception of books. It has a portico in front, but lacks the side chambers which occur at Timgad.

The interest of Timgad, and its part in illustrating history, are not exhausted by a view of those buildings of the second and third centuries which mark the period of its greatness. If in the troublous times which followed it suffered, yet it played a part in African affairs until the Arab conquest. To the understanding of its monuments some slight acquaintance with events is necessary.