AMATHUS.
Next morning we journeyed onwards towards Amathus. The day was lovely,
one of the most exquisite I have ever experienced in any climate, and
as we galloped along, my veins seemed to dance with every breath I
drew. At such moments one readily comprehends why the inhabitants of
Cyprus have never taken any high place in the fields of literature
and art, and why its seductive and enervating air has always proved
attractive to the Turks, as it did formerly to the ancient Romans.
Our road lay through waving cornfields, the rich golden hues of which
were finely contrasted with the deep blue waters of the sea, which in
many places reached the very borders of the fields. Suddenly a change
arose, the sun mounted high into the heavens, and beat down upon us
with such fiery force and fury, as caused me fully to appreciate the
appropriateness of the symbol stamped upon the ancient coins of
Cyprus, namely, a devouring lion, backed, in some instances, by an
image of the sun’s rays. Terrible, indeed, is the destruction worked
by the ravening jaws of Phœbus Apollo, upon the fruitful gardens and
flowery plains of this fertile island. At these seasons, only such
fields as lie close to the sea can resist the parching blight; in these
tracts on the shore, plants of all kind flourish luxuriantly, drawing
the moisture which supports them from the refreshing dews borne to them
from the neighbouring waves. In such of these cultivated portions of
the coast as also enjoy the moisture brought by the smaller streams,
as they discharge themselves into the sea, the harvests and crops
are still more luxuriant. Not only the country near to Limasol, over
which I was now riding, but the coast about Episkopi, Kition, Larnaka,
Famagusta, besides the north coast near Morphu and Lagathos, and other
places, possess many of these most valuable agricultural districts.
Much land has already been reclaimed for the purposes of cultivation,
and there is no reason why so successful an experiment should not be
attempted upon many other parts of the coast.
After about two hours’ riding, we reached what appeared to me to be
the ruins of a church, standing close to the shore, and beside these
a heap of ancient hewn stones, lying ready to be shipped for Port
Saïd, where they were to be employed in the construction of a new
harbour. On our left rose a mountain, with fields of corn extending to
a considerable distance up its slopes. My dragoman was most desirous
to ride on, without my lingering to investigate the spot, and when
I assured him that this mount was certainly the site of the ancient
Amathus, positively asserted that not a trace of anything was to be
seen. I believe the rascal was afraid he should again get more climbing
than suited his indolence, for he declared in piteous accents that
it would take us fully an hour to reach the summit. By this time,
however, I knew the gentleman I had to deal with, and persisted in
my determination to make the attempt. Our road was certainly of the
steepest, but the way was short, and in about fifteen minutes we were
at the top. Much did I rejoice that I had persevered in my own course,
for before me lay the spot that I had sought. The mount was indeed
a natural fortress of the first order, and must have afforded most
secure refuse during the disturbed periods of the island’s history.
On the side facing the sea, by which we had ascended, I could trace
the foundations of an ancient rampart. On the other three sides, such
protection had been quite unnecessary, as the rock rose sheer, and
almost perpendicularly from the fruitful valley at its base. Here had
once stood a large city, founded by the Phœnicians, which is still
called in Hebrew, Hamath, or the fortified city. The building appears
to have covered the eminence, and from thence extended to the shores of
the sea. Tacitus, and other ancient writers, speak of Amathus as the
oldest city in Cyprus; at the present day, it may be described as the
one of which the traces have been most ruthlessly destroyed. With the
exception of the shattered pieces of a gigantic vase, of which I shall
speak presently, and the ruined church upon the coast, no trace is left
of its former greatness. From the top of the mount to the very shores
of the sea, every sign has been removed, beyond that afforded by heaps
of broken stones and potsherds.
Twelve years ago, the last valuable was removed by French antiquarians.
This relic was one of two gigantic vases, finely shaped in solid
stone, with sides almost a foot in thickness, and ornamented with four
gracefully arched handles, decorated with palm branches, and adorned
upon its sides by the images of four bulls. The interior of this
delicately chiselled but gigantic vase, was about ten feet in diameter,
and so deep that an ordinary man standing within could just have
looked over its edges. At the time this spot was visited by the French
travellers we speak of, one of these two precious relics stood above
ground, and was quite perfect, whilst the other was partially buried in
the earth. Disgraceful as it may appear, the fact is certain, that when
the French officers, who were overlooking the removal of the perfect
vase, found that its companion, embedded in the earth, was somewhat
in their way, they at once ordered the sailors who were with them to
smash it to pieces. This fact was related to me by a gentleman of high
position in Limasol, who was an eye-witness of this act of wanton
destruction. My zaptieh, Hussein, it afterwards appeared, had been
present with his master, my friendly pacha, whilst this monster vase
was being pulled down the mountain, and spoke with enthusiasm of its
enormous size and beauty. He also informed me that the French frigate,
“La Perdrix,” commanded by Comte de Vögue, had a small steamship to
assist in conveying the valuable relic. I found pieces of a handle of
the broken vase lying strewn about the mountain.
For a thousand years, these giant mementos of a former age had stood
upon these mountains, to record the grandeur of past ages, and would
have remained untouched by the wear and tear of centuries to come,
had it not been for the barbarous Vandalism of a handful of French
officers. What may have been the use of these magnificent vessels, is
quite uncertain; the oxen sculptured upon them would appear to give
them a religious significance, and we know that similar vases stood
without the Temple at Jerusalem. It is most probable they were in some
manner connected with the numerous sacrifices that formed so large a
part of the religious ceremonies to Venus.
On these heights, the feasts in honour of Adonis were held. This
beautiful youth, the beloved of Venus, is said to have met his death
in the Idalion forest between Larnaka and Famagusta, where, according
to heathen mythology, he was killed by a wild boar he had wounded.
Anemones are said to have sprung up from the ground that was moistened
by his blood. These feasts to Adonis, which were first celebrated at
Byblos, in Phœnicia, were afterwards introduced to Greece and Cyprus.
In the latter country they lasted eight days, of which the first four
were spent in howling and lamenting, and the four last in joyful
clamours, as if Adonis had returned to life. The orgies, in connection
with these feasts, were immoral in the extreme, and we are told that
Pygmalion, the celebrated statuary of Cyprus, was so disgusted by the
profligacy of the women of Amathus, that he resolved never to marry.
The affection he had denied to the other sex, he, therefore, liberally
poured forth upon the creation of his own hands. He became enamoured of
a beautiful marble statue he had made, and at his earnest request and
prayers, the Goddess of Love changed the favourite statue into a woman,
whom the artist married, and by whom he had a son named Paphos, who
founded the city of that name in Cyprus.
The ascent of Amathus would well repay any one who would attempt it, if
only for the magnificent view presented from its summit. On one side
lies a broad expanse of blue sea, and on the other a semicircle of dark
heights and peaks, whilst between the two extends the gay and luxuriant
valley, stretching its fruitful fields and gardens to the shore.
“Under the Ptolemies,” says Cesnola, “and in the later history of
Cyprus, Amathus appears to have lost the ancient importance which it
enjoyed, when ruled by its own kings, and when its natural allies, the
Persians, were all-powerful.”
“On the hill on which it stood nothing is now visible but a vast amount
of stones, plaster, and broken pottery. Even the hill itself is fast
losing its form, while the rock of which it is composed is being
cut away, to be shipped at Port Saïd, bringing to the merchants of
Limasol a profitable return. From the great amount of _débris_ which
covers the surrounding fields, for the most part untilled, Amathus, it
would seem, though small in area, must have been a thickly populated
city. Originally the upper part of the hill had been encircled by
a wall, remains of which are now scarcely perceptible; portions,
however, of another wall of a later period may especially be observed
on the southern side looking towards the sea, and following the
sinuous windings of the hill. I found imbedded in this wall pieces
of terra-cotta jars and fragments of granite columns, which had been
used as building materials. On the southern side, portions of it ran
as far as the shore. It is probable that the square built ruin, at the
southern end of the hill, formed a gateway, since, between the city and
the sea-shore, there was, and still is, the high road to Paphos. On the
crest of this hill I dug at several places, until I came to the solid
rock, but failed to discover any sculptured remains of importance. I
found, however, sufficient evidence to convince me that most of the
building materials of what I call the Phœnician city, had been used for
the construction of the later Greek buildings.”
“Amathus, when subsequently inhabited by a Greek population, spread
itself in a more south-easterly direction, and nearer to the sea-shore,
protected by the second wall, which I spoke of, and though at the time
of its destruction by King Richard of England, it was still the seat
of the last Duke of Cyprus, Isaac Comnenas, it had already lost most of
its splendour and importance.”
“It was on the top of this hill, that M. de Vögue discovered the large
stone vase which is now deposited in the museum of the Louvre. Near the
same spot, there are fragments of what seems to have been a similar
vase. In the immediate vicinity of the site where these vases were
found, I dug up, on a former excursion, three large shafts of columns,
of a hard bluish stone, resembling granite. I left them half-buried in
the soil, with the intention of examining them on a future occasion;
but when I returned, the columns had disappeared, having been broken
up for building purposes. There are thousands of stones on the top
and sides of this hill, which would equally well suit the purposes of
these workmen, but it seems that they are possessed by some infatuation
or evil mania for destroying whatever bears the traces of man’s
handicraft. It is the more to be regretted, since among the ruins very
few architectural or sculptured remains are now found.”
Far away in the distance, is the town of Limasol, washed by the waters
of its beautiful and rounded bay, behind this again a long line of
coast, and then the eye just discerns the promontory of Curias,
stretching its length far into the sea, where it terminates in Capo
delle Gatte. Cesnola gives an amusing account of the origin of this
name, which is too interesting to be omitted. “On one occasion,” he
says, “my mule was terrified by a sudden leap from a bush, of what
appeared to me to be a cat; my guide assured me that both at this cape,
and near to Acrotiri, there are wild cats, which hunt and destroy
the asps abounding there. I at once recollected having read that the
‘Caloyers’ of the convent of Acrotiri raised and trained a superior
breed of cats, which they imported from Constantinople, to kill the
asps in their neighbourhood. That at the tolling of a particular bell
in the convent, these cats would come in to be fed twice a day, and
then return to their work of destruction. I suppose that it is called
Capo delle Gatte in reference to these cats.”
When we had descended the mountain and were once more on the shore,
I observed a number of black and half-black Egyptian sailors, all in
rags, who were busily employed in carrying stones to their ships which
were anchored in the roads. Their captain looked on, smoking his pipe,
and shaded from the sun by a small tent. Stones from the oldest city
in Cyprus, going over to Port Saïd, to help in the construction of
the newest town on the opposite continent, near which a harbour is in
course of construction, destined to receive the ships coming from every
quarter of the globe; whilst here at my feet lay the ancient harbour
of Amathus, of which nothing remains but its natural basin, formed by
rocks which extend some distance into the sea.