CHAPTER VII.

KYRENIA AND THE NORTH COAST.

The change from camp-life to the luxury of Government House, with the

charm of the society of Sir Garnet and Lady Wolseley and officers of the

staff, was a most agreeable interlude in the usually monotonous journey

through Cyprus. The view from the verandah had changed, and was

certainly not charming, as the few green tints that had looked hopeful

on our former visit had turned to brown; but the house within more than

compensated for the cheerlessness of the exterior landscape. A picnic

excursion to the castle of St. Hilarion had been arranged for the 29th

instant by Colonel Greaves, C. B., chief of the staff, who kindly

included us in the invitation. This point was seldom visited, as it was

situated 3240 feet above the sea upon the sky-line of the crags above

Kyrenia, and the ride there and back covered a distance of about thirty

miles from Lefkosia. The energy of English ladies rather astonishes the

people of this country, where inertia is considered to be happiness, and

although our animals were ordered to be saddled punctually at 6 A.M. the

owner in Lefkosia was sceptical as to our actual start at so early an

hour; therefore much time was lost on the morning in question in sending

messengers vainly to and fro for the missing mule and pony; and 8 A.M.

arrived before their appearance. The party had started two hours

earlier. Colonel White, 1st Royal Scots, who was the chief commissioner

at Lefkosia, had kindly waited to accompany us. As St. Hilarion was only

a short distance to the left of the Kyrenia road, I had determined not

to return, but to send the camels and luggage on direct. We left all

unnecessary luggage locked up within the vans, which Sir Garnet Wolseley

kindly permitted us to leave at head-quarters. We took leave of our good

and big friend Georgi and his sharp companion Theodori, who returned to

Dali, where Georgi would meet the only Venus that I have seen in Cyprus,

his wife; but even that pretty Venus was ruined by high boots and baggy

trousers.

Crossing the dry bed of the Pedias below the Government House, we struck

a line over the open and withered plain to a direct route to Kyrenia. At

a distance of about five miles from Lefkosia, the broad and well-trodden

road became lost in a variety of independent paths, which at length

converged into one narrow route that ascended a curious formation of

water-washed and utterly denuded hills, composed of sandstone,

claystone, and peculiar deposits of sedimentary rock, which in places

resembled an artificial pavement. In many places the strata were

vertical, exhibiting the confusion that had been created by the

upheaval. Having passed through a succession of ups and downs for about

three miles, sometimes winding through narrow gorges where the soil was

covered with an efflorescence of salt, at other places clambering over

loose rocks and entering narrow glens, we arrived in a plain at the foot

of the bold and bluff range of the Carpas mountains. The path led to a

village almost concealed amongst dwarf-cypress and pines, at a spot

where the ascent commenced to a deep gorge forming a gap between the

heights upon either side, through which the road was being rendered

accessible for wheeled conveyances to Kyrenia.

We had quitted the Messaria and its misery; thank Heaven, we once more

looked upon green trees, and magnificent cliffs of compact grey

limestone tinted with various colours according to the presence of

metallic substances, instead of wearying the eyes with the depressing

brown of a withered surface. The road was improving under the hands of

several working parties, and the animals stepped along at a cheerful

pace. On the left hand were exceedingly steep slopes, ascending for

several hundred yards to the base of cliffs, which rose in many places

almost perpendicular to the height of more than 2000 feet above the sea.

Upon our right we skirted a deep ravine, the bottom and sides of which

were completely covered with mastic shrubs, and myrtles. Above this

gorge the cliffs rose in imposing grandeur to about 3000 feet, the

clefts being filled with evergreens; and in some unapproachable heights

which man had not invaded the Pinus maritima ornamented the grey crags

with its foliage of pale green.

We should have turned off to the left towards St. Hilarion, but, without

a guide, we overshot the path, and having ridden about three miles

through the gorge, always ascending, we suddenly burst upon the

magnificent view of the northern side. At this moment a few heavy drops

of rain fell from inky clouds which had been gathering among the

mountains, and I thought it advisable to forego the excursion to St.

Hilarion, and to push on towards Kyrenia, three miles distant, though

apparently almost at our feet.

The dark clouds above us added to the beauty of the scenery. We looked

down upon the blue sea, and the snow-covered mountains of Caramania in

the northern distance, with the beautiful foreground of perpendicular

green cliffs upon our right, up to nearly 3000 feet, and the abrupt

mountain sides upon the left, which formed the entrance to the gorge.

The narrow strip of three miles between the sea margin and the point

upon which we stood was a green forest of caroub-trees, almost to the

water's edge. The town, and its striking feature the Venetian fort,

stood out in clear relief against the background of the sea. To the

right and left, farther than the eye could reach, were trees of caroubs,

varied by almonds, mulberries, and occasional date-palms, interspersed

with highly irrigated fields of emerald green. The beautiful old

monastery of Bellapais, erected by the Templars, although in reality

half ruined, appeared from this distance like some noble ancestral

mansion, surrounded by all that could make a landscape perfect: trees,

water, mountains, precipices; above which towered the castle of

Buffavento upon the craggy sky-line; while to the left, cutting with

keen edges the dark cloud that hovered over it, were the walls and

towers of St. Hilarion; where by this time we should have been eating

luncheon with a charming party. Pit-pat came the heavy drops; and still

drinking in the magnificent view, we descended the stony and steep path

towards Kyrenia. When we arrived near the base, after a descent of about

a mile and three-quarters, a perfectly straight road of a good width led

direct to Kyrenia, through a forest of the shady and ever green

caroub-trees. By this time the shower had cleared away, and only a few

light clouds hovered over the high point of St. Hilarion, and having had

nothing to eat, we began to wish for balloons to make a direct ascent to

the well-provided party on the heights above us, who were enjoying the

hospitality of Colonel Greaves. We comforted ourselves with the idea

that we had at all events been wise in foregoing pleasure when upon the

march, as the camels had been ordered to start from Lefkosia, and it

would be advisable that the camp should be arranged without delay. We

accordingly dismounted about half a mile from Kyrenia, and having tied

the animals beneath a wide-spreading caroub, we selected another tree,

beneath which we sat to await the arrival of the camels and servants; in

the meantime I sent the muleteer into the town to buy us something to

eat. After about an hour he returned, with a bottle of Commandoria wine,

a bunch of raw onions, a small goat's-milk cheese, a loaf of brown

native bread, and a few cigarettes, which the good, thoughtful fellow

had made himself for my own private enjoyment. Many years of my life

have been passed in picnicking, and when really hungry, it is

astonishing how vulgar diet is appreciated; we regretted the loss of our

friends, but we nevertheless enjoyed the simple fare, and having looked

at our watches, we speculated upon the probable arrival of the camels

and luggage, and waited patiently beneath the tree.

There is a limit to all endurance, and when 5 P.M. arrived without a

sign of camels, we came to the conclusion that something had gone wrong.

It was in vain that I had searched the pass with my binocular; only the

white thread between the green shrubs appeared, that denoted the path;

and this was desolate.

At length I observed something moving on the crest of the pass: mules or

horses! then a parasol! somebody was coming; most likely returning to

Kyrenia from the picnic? Presently a mule, saddled but without a rider,

came galloping down the road. This we stopped, and secured; it looked

like a practical result of a good luncheon and champagne cup. Shortly

after this first appearance a dismounted English servant came walking

down the road after his mule, which he was happy to recover from our

hands. He had neither seen nor heard anything of our camels or people,

but his master, the chief commissioner of Kyrenia (Dr. Holbeach, 60th

Rifles), was approaching, together with Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson, all of

whom were returning from St. Hilarion. At length the distant parasol

drew nearer, and by degrees we could distinguish the party as they

emerged from the pass upon the broad straight road.

As there are no highwaymen in Cyprus, I had no hesitation in walking

suddenly out of the green wood upon the road-side and intercepting them

as they arrived in front of our position; I explained that we were

"waifs and strays" upon the wide world of Cyprus without baggage or

servants, or, in fact, what Shakespeare calls "sans everything." Mr.

Holbeach with much kindness and hospitality captured us as vagrants, and

insisted upon escorting us to his house. Mrs. Stevenson was good enough

to supply Lady Baker with a few little necessaries for the night, and

Mr. Holbeach, having thoughtfully made up an impromptu little

dinner-party of all named, we passed a most pleasant evening, although I

fear that our sudden invasion of his bachelor's quarters must have

caused him some inconvenience.

On the following morning, we enjoyed the splendid view from the covered

balcony at the back of Mr. Holbeach's house, which showed the richest

foreground in Cyprus in the dark green of caroub-forest and gardens of

fruit-trees intermingled with plots of barley already in the ear. This

rich front was backed by the wall of dark limestone cliffs two miles

distant, 3000 feet elevation, with the castles of Buffavento and St.

Hilarion perched left and right on the giddy summits of the highest

crags, which in the clear atmosphere apparently overhung our position.

We then breakfasted, took leave of our hospitable host, and rode back to

Lefkosia to inquire into the cause of the delay.

On arrival we found a string of mules just starting, as the camels that

had been engaged yesterday had never appeared. I sent off the servants

and animals, with orders to pitch the tent upon the site of the old camp

of the 42nd Highlanders, within a mile of Kyrenia; we then once more

encroached upon the kindness of Sir Garnet and Lady Wolseley for the

night. On the following morning we rode to Kyrenia, sixteen miles, and

found tents pitched in a delightful situation, and the camp swept and

arranged in perfect order. There could not have been a better site for a

military camp, as the ground was firm and sloped gradually towards the

sea, above which the elevation may have been about 120 feet. The

beautiful caroub-trees afforded a dense shade for individual tents and

for unlimited numbers of men. The ground had been well drained, and

every care had been taken to ensure the health of the troops; but in

spite of all sanitary arrangements they had suffered severely from

fever, by which, although only four had actually succumbed, and now lay

in the lonely little cemetery close to our tents, the regiment had been

demoralised, and was withdrawn from this lonely position completely

fever-smitten. I made close inquiries among the natives, and all agreed

that the past year, having been unusually wet, had been exceptionally

unhealthy, and the inhabitants had suffered almost to the same degree as

the Europeans. It was painfully clear that when the rainfall was

sufficiently plentiful to produce abundant harvests it at the same time

ensured a crop of fevers.

We remained ten days in our Kyrenia camp, and we were both sorry to

leave, as the neighbourhood is exceedingly beautiful and full of

interest; there is certainly no portion of Cyprus that can equal it in

the picturesque, or in the extreme richness of genuine forest-trees and

foliage.

The town is small and most irregular: an old Turkish graveyard forms a

boundary upon the outskirts opposite the fort, precisely similar in

position to that of Famagousta. Within 300 paces of this point are the

principal houses, mostly well built of stone and surrounded by

high-walled gardens fruitful in oranges, lemons, almonds, apricots,

figs, and the fruits commonly known throughout the island. The houses

are generally one story above the ground-floor, with a wide balcony that

forms an open face to the first-floor of five or six arches, which

support the roof upon that side. This is a convenient plan for the

climate, as it admits fresh air to all the rooms which open into the

balcony; in fact it is an open landing to the staircase. A few

date-palms ornament the gardens, the presence of these graceful trees

being a sure sign of the preponderance of Turks in the population.

The fort of Kyrenia is a great curiosity, as it forms a portion of the

harbour, being situated like the nose in a pair of spectacles, the

basins being the eyes right and left. The actual defences are intact,

although the inner accommodation for barracks, magazines, &c., &c.,

require great repairs and alteration. The walls are of solid squared

masonry, the stones jointed with the usual imperishable cement, and rise

to the great perpendicular height of upwards of seventy feet sheer from

the bottom of the fosse. There is only one entrance, by a narrow bridge

upon arches, across the extremely wide and deep ditch, terminating near

the gateway by a drawbridge, which admits an entry in the face of the

immense wall, with portcullis and iron-bound hinged gate. The ramparts

overlooking the town and harbour on the west face are 147 yards in

length, exclusive of the tower, and the embrasures of solid masonry

measured at the angle are generally twenty-four feet in thickness. The

fort is nearly square, and is flanked at each corner by a circular tower

which would completely enfilade the ditch by several tiers of guns. This

powerful fortress is washed by the sea upon two sides (the north and

east), and the foundations upon the native rock are protected from the

action of the waves by reefs and huge fragments of natural detached

masses which characterise this portion of the coast. As I stood upon the

parapet facing north I obtained an admirable view of the original

harbours to my left and right, and although they could never have

admitted large vessels, I was struck by the great importance of this

sole place of refuge upon the northern coast of Cyprus, which in former

times had suggested such a formidable arrangement for defence. The fort

was constructed by the Venetians, but there are fallen masses of much

older works that now lie at the foot of the sea-face, and add to the

natural reefs in defending the foundations from the breaking water.

The style of this fortress suggests a date anterior to Famagousta, as it

is devoid of cavaliers and depends for its defence upon the simple

flanking fire of the four towers and the great height and thickness of

the walls. It is supplied with fresh water by an aqueduct, and is

provided with immense reservoirs of masonry to contain a sufficient

quantity during a prolonged siege, when the outer aqueduct might be

destroyed by the enemy. There are extensive subterranean caves and

dungeons, but these have not yet been explored. Above this fine old

specimen of Venetian fortifications, upon the high platform of the tower

facing the harbour, was a flag-staff, upon which a small bundle of rags

fluttered in the strong wind, as though they, had been arranged to

frighten the jackdaws from building within the crevices of masonry. It

appeared that this miserable remnant of tattered bunting had once

represented a British Union Jack! and the colourless, poverty-stricken

thing flapped and cracked as it tore itself into the finest threads of

misery in the gale, too truly representing the result of our ambiguous

position according to the terms of the Cyprian occupation. I felt

ashamed that such an exhibition should meet the eye of any foreign ship

upon entering the harbour of Kyrenia, and I was informed "that it was

the only flag that was possessed by the authorities." As all the revenue

of the island was handed over to the Porte excepting a bagatelle

insufficient for the requirements of the country, the really overworked

and energetic servants of the Crown were absolutely obliged to practise

a most rigid economy, commencing with their own salaries, equally

vexatious to themselves and unworthy of our high position.

The curious collection of old cannon had all been removed by the Turks,

but one iron piece remained, which, being almost worthless as metal, had

been left behind when the bronze guns had been shipped to

Constantinople. This was a great curiosity, as it somewhat resembled a

hand-bell about five feet in length; the bell which formed the mouth to

receive the ball was only two feet in length, although the muzzle was

sufficiently wide to admit the stone projectile of nineteen inches

diameter. The portion which resembled the handle of a bell was the

continuation which formed the narrow chamber for the powder; this was

about three feet long and eight inches thick*. (*These measurements are

from memory, excepting the diameter of muzzle, which I took on the

spot.) There were no trunnions to this singular old gun, but it may have

been lashed to some lever which could be raised or depressed, and it was

evidently intended for firing into shipping from the fort walls, to

command the harbour at a short range. It had been cast with concentric

rings, which I examined carefully, as at first I imagined they had been

wrought-iron shrunk on to the casting: this was not the case, but the

extra thickness of metal at the rings added sufficient strength. The

large stone shot, formed of a peculiarly hard metamorphous rock (a

conglomerate of matter that had been fused by heat), were to be seen in

various positions within the fortress. A few were on the parapet above

the drawbridge, as though prepared for rolling over upon an assaulting

party. I found this quality of rock upon the mountains within two miles

of Kyrenia.

There were evidently two harbours, which included the small bay upon

either side of the present fort; that upon the west was the most

important, as the depth of water is greater, and it shows evident signs

of having received peculiar attention. The remains of the ancient moles

still exist, and afford considerable protection; but the sea has broken

through in several places and washed away the upper tiers of stones.

These moles were carefully constructed by laying the masonry upon a

foundation of hydraulic cement, which connected the various natural

rocks; the layer of cement still exists, while the squared blocks of the

original surface may be seen at the bottom, where they have been

deposited by the waves. Like all defensive works in historical

countries, those of Kyrenia have undergone continual changes and

modifications, as from time to time alterations may have been suggested

by successful attacks. In a ruined tower which, completely isolated

within the sea, commanded the entrance of the harbour on the west, I

observed that an ancient column of white marble from some old building

has been used as a key to prevent the large squared stones from yielding

to the constant vibration caused by the breaking waves. Each tier of

stones has been cut at the central edge to form a half-circle where the

edges of the adjoining blocks were connected; those have been similarly

shaped to produce a complete circle when faced together. The squared

stones in the lower and upper tiers have been perforated in a circle, so

that when several courses of masonry were completed, the hole

represented a shaft of about twelve inches diameter, sunk from top to

bottom; the marble column has been inserted from the top, and has tied

each course effectively together; the havoc occasioned in this tower of

solid squared blocks is the work of man; the stones have until recently

been removed for the purposes of building.

Kyrenia could never have been a perfectly safe harbour in all weathers,

as the entrance is open to the north. There is a slight turn to the

east, which might have protected a few small vessels during a northerly

gale, but this portion is now silted up, and it should be cleared by

dredging. The houses rise above the harbour from the water's edge to the

cliffs, forming a horseshoe shape. Mr. Holbeach had just completed a

small quay of masonry, and a very moderate outlay would restore the

ancient mole and render Kyrenia an important port for the trading

vessels of Syria and Asia Minor. When a good carriage-road shall be

completed to the capital, Lefkosia, only sixteen miles distant, the

value of Kyrenia as a commercial harbour will be much enhanced. There

are also important towns with a considerable population within eight or

nine miles of Kyrenia on the west: Carava and Lapithas would offer

markets for a great extension of trade, and Morphu would be brought

within the same commercial circle. There is a peculiar advantage

throughout the ports of Cyprus in the presence of stone quarries upon

the spot where the material is required; this is specially marked at

Kyrenia, where the solid rock, with its tombs, cave-dwellings, and

ancient quarries, is on the actual borders of the sea, within a few

yards of the existing harbour. There would be no great difficulty in

converting these quarries into a dock, should a demand for stone be

sufficient to repay the outlay for cutting the supply, according to the

example already exhibited and left to us by the ancients.

The quarries of Kyrenia form the chief curiosity of the locality. The

rock is the sedimentary limestone mixed with a proportion of sand that

is the characteristic geological feature around the coast of Cyprus; but

in these quarries the stone is perfectly solid and free from fissures,

which enables the mason to obtain blocks of any size. From prehistoric

times the rock of Kyrenia, which rises about forty feet above the

sea-level, has been worked out upon the most careful method; every block

has been cut from the parent mass by measurement, and no broken edges

have been permitted to destroy the symmetry of the adjoining stone. The

work was commenced from the top, or surface of the rock, and a smooth

cliff face has been produced as the first operation; upon completion the

surface has been lined out parallel with the perpendicular face, and the

blocks have been carefully chiselled and removed by wedges driven

horizontally from beneath. In this manner the rock has been worked until

it resembled a flight of steps, which remain in many places perfect to

the present hour. The entire fortress and town have been constructed

from these quarries, and there can be no doubt that when Kyrenia was

originally founded by the Dorian colonists under Cepheus and Praxander

the stones were obtained from the existing site. There is a considerable

difference in the quality of the rock, which has been remarked by the

original builders, as a passage has been cut through the first cliff

face nearest to the town, and the desired level for wheeled conveyances

having been obtained, the workmen have discovered a superior stone as

they proceeded into the bowels of the quarry. They have accordingly

neglected much of the nearer portion, and have excavated a large square,

always pushing forward towards the west, which is now terminated by a

worked perpendicular face and a series of steps incomplete, precisely as

it remained when the last chisel relinquished the labour.

This quality of rock in all parts of Cyprus is cavernous, and the

natural caves have suggested to the ancients an artificial extension

both for dwellings and for cemeteries. The rock is easily worked by the

mason's pick, and near the town I observed an old fort-ditch which had

been originally excavated for the double object of quarrying building

stone at the same time that it served the purpose of defence. There

would be no great difficulty in connecting the ancient quarry with the

harbour by cutting a canal through the soft rock and extending the depth

of the ancient excavations. It is well known to all quarrymen that the

stone should be placed in a building according to the position in which

it lay when forming the original rock. Within the fortress of Kyrenia

there are many examples of neglect, where the masons have either

inverted or placed the stones sideways, in which case the action of the

weather has completely honey-combed and reduced the material to an

appearance of decayed coral. I observed instances of similar neglect

with the same results in portions of the fortress of Famagousta.

The tombs are easily distinguished from the cave-dwellings with which

the rocks are perforated, as they are merely chambers of a few feet

square sufficient for the reception of a limited number of bodies; the

dwellings have been carefully chiselled, and arranged with a bench cut

from the solid rock around the apartment.

The remains of ancient fortifications, including ruined towers and

ditches, prove that in former times Kyrenia was of far greater extent

than would be implied by its present small proportions. In like manner

with Famagousta this powerful fort has been considered as a position to

be occupied exclusively by Turks. The population of the town is now

about 600, but the Greek element is increasing since the British

Convention ensured their protection.

Our camp was daily visited by the women of both Turks and Cypriotes, who

came to indulge their curiosity, and my wife had some difficulty in

receiving the increasing circle of acquaintance. The want of a female

interpreter was at first acutely felt, as the conversation was much

restricted when Georgi was the only medium. After a few days this

shyness on the part of the Turkish ladies wore off, and Georgi, who was

a good, painstaking young fellow, became a favourite; some of these

ladies were exceedingly gracious, and took off their veils when in the

tent with Lady Baker and myself, and conversed upon various subjects

with much intelligence. A few were decidedly pretty; all were studiously

clean and well dressed, and they formed a marked contrast in appearance

and general style to the Cypriote women; the breed was superior, their

hands were delicate and well cared for, but disfigured by the prevalent

habit of staining the nails and palms with henna. This plant is called

shenna by all Turks and Cypriotes, and it is imported from Syria for the

purpose of dyeing the hair, and also the feet and hands of Turkish

women. It is not a production of Cyprus, as has been erroneously stated

by some authors; I made particular inquiries in all portions of the

island, and of all classes, upon this subject. The henna, or shenna, is

only to be met with in some few gardens, where it is cultivated as an

ornamental shrub, in the same manner that the arbutus may be seen in the

shrubberies of England. The Turkish women are very particular in dyeing

their hair, and use various preparations. The shenna produces a glossy

red, which some years ago was the fashionable tinge in England. There is

also a small seed of a plant which is prepared by roasting until burnt,

like coffee, and then reducing to powder, which is formed into a paste

with oil; this is a well-known dye, which turns the hair into a deep

black. There was a sudden rush for information when the British

occupation of Cyprus was announced to the startled public, and books

were rather hurriedly put together, compiled from various authorities,

which, although yielding valuable information upon many points,

unfortunately perpetuated errors by reproducing erroneous statements.

The asserted existence of henna as "an indigenous shrub which originated

the name of Cyprus," is an instance of such mistakes, similar to the

descriptions of "HEATH-covered surface," when no such plant exists upon

the island.

The longer I remained in the neighbourhood of Kyrenia the deeper was my

regret that the arrivals of strangers should take place in the southern

ports, instead of receiving their first impressions of Cyprus by an

introduction to this lovely coast. I was never afloat on the northern

side, but the view must be strikingly impressive, as the trees, ever

green almost to the water's edge, shadow the rocky coves, and clothe the

surface to the base of the mountains, whilst, at a short distance from

the land these must appear as though rising abruptly from the sea. The

castles upon the extreme summits form unmistakable landmarks, resembling

sentries on either side the fort and harbour of Kyrenia.

On 6th April the general rendezvous was the monastery of Bellapais,

three and a half miles distant from Kyrenia, in response to the

invitation of Major McCalmont, 7th Hussars, on the staff of Sir Garnet

Wolseley, who had taken immense trouble for the gratification of his

guests by sending tents, baggage, and sleeping accommodation for two

nights, in addition to every kind of necessary refreshments.

The route from Kyrenia lay through a country of the brightest shades of

green, parallel with the sea, about a mile and a half distant, towards

which a succession of deep ravines, which formed river-beds in the rainy

season, drained from the mountains at right angles with the path. This

side of the Carpas range formed a strong contrast with the parched

southern slopes, as every garden and farm was irrigated by water

conducted from the mountains in artificial channels, which would

otherwise have been absorbed and lost in the wide and stony stream-beds

if left to its natural course. We passed through sombre groves of very

ancient olives of immense girth; then through villages concealed among a

luxuriant growth of fruit-trees, the almonds being already large, and

eaten eagerly by the inhabitants, although still unripe. The oranges in

heavy crops weighed down the dark green branches, the deep yellow fruit

contrasting brightly with the foliage, and the fields of barley that had

benefited by artificial irrigation looked like green carpets spread

between the neighbouring villages and gardens. Having crossed several

deep and wide stream-beds, in one of which the water still trickled in a

clear but narrow channel, we commenced a steep ascent among scattered

but numerous caroub-trees, which gave a park-like appearance to the

country, and upon gaining an eminence we came suddenly upon the view of

Bellapais. The monastery was not more than 600 yards distant, but a deep

hollow intervened between the opposing heights, which necessitated a

circuit of more than a mile before we could reach the village. It would

be impossible to select a more beautiful position for a house than the

flat summit of the height upon which we stood. The valley at our feet

nursed a rippling stream deep in the bottom of a precipitous gorge, the

rough sides clothed with myrtles, which now occupied basket-makers who

were completing their work upon the spot where they cut their wands of

this tough wood in lieu of willow. The fine old Gothic building stood

before us on the opposite height upon the extreme edge, surrounded by

trees of various kinds, including tall poplars which unfortunately were

not yet in leaf. This grand old pile was an impressive contrast to the

scene around; there were neat villages with flat-topped roofs of clay,

down in the vale far beneath, with the intense blue sea washing the

rocky shore: there was also the adjoining village at the rear, occupying

the same plateau as the monastery, with its rich gardens and groves of

orange-trees; the ruined walls and towers of Buffavento upon the highest

crags dominated our position by more than 2,500 feet, and the castle of

St. Hilarion stood upon a still higher elevation on the western sky-line

behind Kyrenia. There was nothing modern that appeared compatible with

the style and grandeur of Bellapais. When this monastery was erected,

Cyprus must have been a flourishing and populous country worthy of such

architecture, but the present surroundings, although harmonising in

colouring, and in a quiet passiveness of scene, in no way suggested a

connection with a past that gave birth either to the Gothic building or

to the important castles of Buffavento and St. Hilarion.

Having skirted the amphitheatre upon the monastery level, we passed

through an orange-garden and entered the courtyard. The church occupies

the right side, and the wall is fronted by cloisters which, supported

upon arches, form a quadrangle. A stone staircase ascends from the

cloisters to the refectory upon the left; this is in considerable ruin,

but must originally have formed an imposing hall. Upon the flat roof of

the cloisters, which is perfect for three sides of the quadrangle, a

magnificent view is obtained through the fine old Gothic open window,

which looks down sheer to the great depth below, and commands the entire

country seaward. Descending into the courtyard to the northern cloister

we pass two large sarcophagi of white marble. One of these has been

elaborately worked in rich garlands of flowers and very grand bulls'

heads, together with nude figures, all of which have been much damaged.

These sarcophagi have been used as cisterns for containing water, as the

tap is still visible. Immediately opposite is the entrance to the great

hall, which is in good repair, as a new cement floor was added by the

British authorities, with the intention of converting it into a

temporary hospital when the troops were suffering from fever at Kyrenia.

This hall is 102 feet long and 33 feet wide, with a height of upwards of

30 feet. Nothing can exceed the beauty of the view from the windows of

this grand entrance, and in the deep recesses we found Sir Garnet and

Lady Wolseley enjoying the scene, while our host, Major McCalmont,

welcomed his guests in this splendid vestige of the Knights Templars.

The abbey, which belonged to the Latin Church, was built during the

Lusignan dynasty by Hugh III. in about 1280 A.D. and was destroyed by

the Turks. The castle of Buffavento, upon the summit of the mountain,

3240 feet above the sea, is of far more ancient date, and is interesting

from the fact of its having during the conquest by Richard Coeur de Lion

succumbed to the assault conducted in person by that king. The castle of

Kyrenia had already fallen, and the wife, daughter, and treasures of

Isaac Comnenus fell into the hands of the victorious English, led by the

gallant Guy de Lusignan in the absence of Richard I., who was at that

time incapacitated through illness, which detained him at Lefkosia. This

fortification was probably the original defence of the town, and could

have had no relation to the present work, which is of a far later date,

and was constructed specially for an armament of heavy guns.

Captain Savile (101st Royal Irish), in his admirable compilation from

all the principal works that have been written upon Cyprus, states:--

"Richard was now able to turn his thoughts to his

neglected crusade; he returned to Limasol, and sent

Isaac's daughter, with his own wife and sister, on before

him to St. Jean d'Acre. On 5th June, 1191, Richard

himself sailed from Cyprus, leaving the island

in charge of Richard de Canville and Robert de

Turnham, with injunctions to keep the army in Syria

well provided with provisions.

"Isaac was placed in silver fetters and taken with

King Richard to Syria, where he was handed over to

the Hospitallers, since Knights of Rhodes, for safe

custody, and was by them confined in the Castle of

Margat, near Tripoli, where he died shortly afterwards.

"Several insurrections subsequently occurred in

Cyprus, but were all suppressed by the decisive and

prompt action of Robert de Turnham.

"The Templars now entered into negotiations with

King Richard for the purchase of Cyprus, and they

eventually obtained it from him for the sum of 100,000

Saracenic golden besants; it was further arranged that

40,000 golden besants should be paid at once, and the

remainder as soon as it could be derived from the

revenues of the island."

According to a high authority, De Mas Latrie (see L'Histoire de l'Ile de

Chypre, vol. ii. p. 7), the above sum would now represent about 304,000

pounds sterling.

Richard had at once appreciated the importance of Cyprus as a base of

operations that would secure a supply of provisions within two days'

sail of his salient point of attack, and to which he could retreat in

the event of failure. The geographical position remains the same, but

unfortunately Cyprus is no longer capable of furnishing supplies for a

large army, and the hay necessary for the cavalry was obliged to be

imported at great cost immediately upon the British occupation in 1878.

The Templars quickly became disgusted with their bargain, and after only

ten months' rule, during which the island was in a state of chronic

revolt, they endeavoured to persuade King Richard to cancel the

agreement of purchase.

Captain Savile continues:--

"Richard expressed his willingness to take over

the island, but refused to return the 40,000 besants.

King Guy de Lusignan now came forward, and having

arranged with the Templars that in the event of

his being made king of Cyprus he would refund

to them what they had paid, went to Richard and

asked him for the island as compensation for the loss

of the crown of Jerusalem, engaging also to pay the

same sum that the Templars had agreed to. This

offer was accepted, and Guy intrusted to his Chancellor,

Pierre d'Engoulesme, Bishop of Tripoli, the task

of raising the money. The sum of 60,000 besants was

collected by means of loans from the citizens of Tripoli

and from the Genoese, and was paid by Guy to

Richard, who asked for the remaining 40,000 besants;

but Guy then pleaded poverty, and it is stated that the

English king did not urge this claim further."

Guy de Lusignan at once took possession of the island (May 1192), but it

appears, according to De Mas Latrie, that he never actually assumed the

title of King of Cyprus. His reign was but short, lasting only one year

and eleven months; but from all accounts he governed wisely, and

restored order and tranquillity in the island. One of his first measures

was the establishment of a feudal system, and he endowed with portions

of land, according to rank, about 300 knights and 200 esquires, who

formed the nucleus of the nobility and privileged bodies in Cyprus.

The Lusignan dynasty thus commenced in 1192, continued until 1489, and

terminated with Queen Catherine Cornaro, when Cyprus was annexed by the

Venetian Republic.

I did not ascend to the castle of Buffavento, which towered above the

monastery about two miles distant, but I observed with the telescope

that every inch of ground that could be cultivated was green with

barley, even to extreme heights which appeared inaccessible. Small

terraces had been arranged by heaping up stones among the numerous

declivities to save the soil from falling below, and to catch the wash

that might be added by some passing shower. This was the result of

enormous labour, far disproportioned to the value of the crops; yet in

the face of this perilous industry there are persons who declare that

the Cypriotes are an idle race, and that "land exists in superabundant

acreage sufficient for double the amount of population." If this theory

is correct the Cypriotes, who climb to these dizzy heights to build some

walls among the precipices that will act as an agricultural trap to

catch some few square yards of soil, must be simply madmen; but I have

not found them wanting either in brains or industry when working

independently for their own profit; where they are positively wanting,

is in ready money. All strangers who take an interest in agriculture

must be struck with the extraordinary pains taken by the natives to save

the soil from water-wash, to which I have already alluded; but this

peculiarity is the more striking when we observe the dangerous positions

to which they have been driven by a desire to increase their lands.

In a ride from our camp to St. Hilarion I carefully remarked throughout

the extremely rugged nature of the route that no plot, however minute,

had been neglected. In one rocky nook buried among the cliffs was a

little cottage, with hanging gardens all terraced by exceedingly high

walls, yet affording the smallest superficial area for cultivation. This

is discernible with a powerful telescope from the base of the mountains,

although to the naked eye it appears like a cluster of barren rocks,

tinged with the green of fruit-trees growing from the clefts. If such

labour had been expended to produce a picturesque effect the object

might be appreciated, but that it should be profitable is beyond belief.

The summit of St. Hilarion is 3340 feet above the sea, from which, in a

direct line, it is not three miles distant. The cliffs are quite

perpendicular in some places for several hundred feet, and the greatest

care has been taken to perch the towers and walls upon the extreme

verge. Although from the base of the mountains at Kyrenia the castle

appears to occupy an impregnable position, it can be easily approached

by one of those rough paths in the rear which can be scrambled over by

the Cyprian mules. I am afraid that my willing animal grumbled somewhat

at my weight, as it was obliged to halt for breath seven or eight times

before we reached a secluded little dell among the mountain tops, from

which the path ascended by steep zigzags, directly through the entrance

of the old fortification. This narrow dell, hidden among the surrounding

crags about 2800 feet above the sea, was entirely cropped with barley,

and the people who owned the plot resided in a cave that had been

arranged for a habitation for themselves and animals.

On the ridge before we descended into this vale the view was

magnificent, as two lofty crags formed a natural frame for the picture

within. Between these rugged peaks of silvery grey limestone, tinted by

ferruginous rocks with various shades of red and brown, we looked down a

precipice beneath our feet upon the blue sea, the snow-capped mountains

of Caramania in the distance, and the rich border of our own shores

covered with green trees, gardens, fields, and clustering villages: in

the centre of which was the fort and harbour of Kyrenia. I could just

distinguish our white tents among the caroub-trees far beneath. To

complete this superb landscape there should have been a few sails upon

the sea; but all was blue and barren, without signs of life. The castle

of St. Hilarion stood before us on the left as we faced the sea, and the

towers occupied the peaks within less than a quarter of a mile of our

position. Continuing along the narrow vale, a mountain-top upon our

left-hand, which sloped to the path upon which we rode, appeared

slightly higher than the extreme summit of the castle peak; the sides of

this steep slope were covered with dwarf cypress and occasional young

pines, and it was clear that St. Hilarion would be commanded by a

battery upon these heights, or even by the fire of modern rifles.

Ascending the zigzag path among blocks of fallen stone, which had rolled

from the partially dismantled walls, we entered the gateway, and at once

perceived the great extent of the old fortress. The entire mountain-top

is encircled by a high wall, flanked at intervals by towers, and

crenellated for archers or cross-bowmen. Although the opposite mountain

would by artillery fire completely command the inner and lower portion

of the works, which we had now entered, the distance would have been far

beyond the range of catapults or arrows at the time when the defences

were erected. The error appeared to have been in the great area of the

fortifications, which would have necessitated a garrison of at least

4000 men, entailing a large supply of provisions and of water. There was

no trace of a well throughout the works, but I observed the remains of

water-pipes in numerous directions, which appeared to have conducted the

rainfall into reservoirs. The nearest water was by the caves, occupied

by the peasants in the glen, about a quarter of a mile distant. Nothing

would have been easier than an investment, which would sooner or later

have reduced the garrison to starvation, as the precipices upon the

north, west, and east, which rendered the position impregnable from

those directions, at the same time prevented an exit, and effectually

barred all egress either for sorties or escape. The first court upon

entering the gateway comprised several acres, but there was no level

ground, and the natural slope of the mountain was inclosed by walls and

parapets upon all sides, until at convenient places the earth had been

scarped out for the erection of buildings, which had either been

barracks or magazines. These were all of stone and hard cement, and were

now used as stables for various animals by the few peasants of this wild

neighbourhood. Passing through galleries, from which an occasional

window showed a deep chasm of many hundred feet beneath, and continuing

until we entered a tower which terminated the passage upon a

perpendicular peak that enfiladed the outer line of defence, and at the

same time from its great height commanded the main approach, we

descended a rude flight of steps, and presently entered a grand hall

supported upon numerous arches which appeared to connect two peaks of

the mountain. Descending from this solid work, we entered upon a plot of

grass which sloped towards a precipice of rock that completely closed

this side of the fortress. Several cypress-trees grew among the stones,

which assisted us in ascending from this steep and dangerous slope,

until by a passage which led into a quadrangular courtyard of grass we

emerged into an imposing portion of the ruin which commanded the west

face. This was a wall built upon the extreme edge of a precipice, which

looked down a giddy depth, and afforded a lovely view lengthways of the

narrow strip of caroub-forest and verdure along the mountain range to

the margin of the sea. The guide knew every inch of these labyrinth-like

works, and upon my expressing a desire to ascend to the earth on the

summit, he commenced a scramble over loose stones, large rocks, and

occasional slippery grass, holding on to the now numerous dwarf-cypress,

until we reached a narrow saddle of the peak, over which a man could sit

astride and look down to the right and left into the depth below. It was

necessary to cross this saddle for about ten or twelve feet to gain the

wider pathway formed by the natural rock, which was terminated after a

few yards by the castle tower. This, as may be imagined, was built upon

the verge, and formed an artificial peak to the precipices upon all

sides. The view was superb, as it commanded a panorama of mountains,

valleys, the sea, precipices, and all that could make a perfect

landscape.

Sitting down to rest upon the solid rock upon the left of this castle

entrance, I observed that it was composed of white marble. The exterior

had a greyish coating from the action of the weather, but this could be

scraped off with a knife, which exposed the white marble beneath. I

remarked that the cement of the masonry was mixed with small fragments

of the same material, and subsequently I discovered blocks of this

substance in the immediate neighbourhood of Kyrenia.

There was a peculiarity in the walls and towers of the fortress of St.

Hilarion: the stones were of such small dimensions that few exceeded

forty or fifty pounds in weight, except those which formed the principal

halls or other buildings upon the secure plateaux within the outer

works. The masons had apparently depended upon the extreme tenacity and

hardness of their cement, which bound the mass into a solid block. Upon

a close examination I discovered the reason. As the towers and many of

the walls were built upon the extreme edge of various precipices, it

would have been impossible to have erected a scaffolding on the outside,

in the absence of which it would have been difficult to have raised

heavy weights; the builders were therefore obliged to limit the size of

stones to the power of individuals, who would be obliged to supply the

material by the simple handing of single stones as the work proceeded.

By this crude system the mason would stand upon his own wall and receive

the stones as his work grew in height.

The origin and date of this interesting fortress are uncertain, but it

is known that, like other eagle-nests upon this craggy range, it formed

a place of refuge to some of the Latin kings of Cyprus. As in ancient

times the port of Kyrenia had been an object of frequent attacks, the

lofty fortresses of St. Hilarion and Buffavento offered immediate

asylums in the event of a retreat from the invaded harbour. In close

proximity to the sea these elevated posts commanded an extended view,

and the approach of an enemy could be discerned at a distance that would

afford ample warning for preparing a defence. Both St. Hilarion and

other mountain strongholds upon this range were dismantled by the

Venetian Admiral Prioli about A.D. 1490, shortly after the annexation of

the island by Venice.

The return ride down the mountain side was, if possible, more beautiful

than the ascent, as the lights and shadows were rendered acute by dark

but quickly passing clouds; occasional light mists curled round the

highest peaks like veils of gauze and then dissolved in the clear air.

These atmospherical changes intensified the colouring and brought out

the varying tints of grey and purple rocks into a strange prominence,

while every wild flower appeared to thrust itself suddenly into

observation: the purple cistus seemed magnified to the size of roses,

and a bright gleam of gold from the masses of prickly bloom now in

fullest blaze mingled with the general green surface of mastic and

arbutus. As we neared the base of the mountains the dark green rounded

tops of a forest of caroub-trees were occasionally broken by the white

bloom of sweet-scented hawthorns; and to the delight of my ear, the

first notes of the cuckoo that I had heard in Cyprus recalled the spring

of England! It is a curious arrangement of our nervous system, that a

sound so simple in itself should invest the scene with a tenfold

pleasure, and should conjure up uncalled-for recollections of places,

friends, and a life of years long past: but so it was; and for the

moment I longed to be at home. . . .

The mules and camels were ready to start on the 10th April. I had

engaged a well-known fine-looking muleteer named Katarjii Iiani, who had

contracted, for twenty-nine shillings a day, to supply the riding mules

and baggage animals sufficient for our party from Kyrenia to any portion

of the island I might wish to visit. My plan was arranged, to include a

circuit of the north and west to Baffo; thence to Limasol; by which time

the hot weather would be drawing near, and we should seek a settlement

as near the clouds as possible upon Troodos; the snow was still deep

upon the northern summit of this mountain, which formed the prominent

object in the range.

Our new muleteer Iiani was about six feet two inches high, and not being

sufficiently tall, he added nearly three inches more by enormous heels

to a pair of well-fitting high boots; these, fastened below the knee,

just showed sufficient clean grey stocking to prove that he possessed

such hose; which are luxuries seldom indulged in by the peasantry. The

boots were carefully blackened and polished, and were armed with long

spurs. His trousers were the usual roomy pattern, containing sufficient

stuff to clothe a small family of English children; above these

dark-blue bags he wore a kind of Jersey frock of thick silk fitting

tight to his figure; the junction between this purple-striped garment

and his waistband was concealed in the many windings of a long shawl

which passed several times round his centre; in this he wore a

German-silver-handled knife or dagger of pure Birmingham or Sheffield

origin. His figure was very perfect, and he was as thoroughly "set-up"

as though he had been in the hands of a drill-sergeant from his cradle.

He carried a long stick like the shaft of a lance, with which he could

poke a refractory mule, but which he always used when mounting by

resting one end upon the ground, and with the left hand upon the saddle

he ascended with the ease of a spiritualist "floating in the air." Iiani

was very polite to ladies, and he knew their ways. He seldom advanced

without an offering of some lovely flower or a small sprig of

sweetly-scented herb, which he invariably presented with a graceful bow

and a smile intended to represent a combination of humility, amiability,

gentility, and as many other "ilitys" as could be squeezed into his

expressive features. It is hardly necessary after this description to

say that Iiani was a very tall humbug, pleasant in manner when he had

his own way. He was lazy to such a degree that he invariably fell asleep

upon his mule after smoking innumerable cigarettes. In these cases his

long body swayed to the right and left, and occasionally nodded forward

to an extent that sometimes awoke him with the jerk; after which

spasmodic return of consciousness an immediate relapse took place, and

he fell asleep again. As he rode directly before me, as guide, this

chronic somnolency was most annoying, and I had to drive his mule into a

faster walk by poking its hind-quarters with my stick. The animal would

then break into a sudden trot, which would awaken the rider to the fact

that he had been dreaming; upon which he burst into some peculiar song

that was intended to prove that he was wide awake; but after a few bars

the ditty ceased; the head once more nodded and swung from side to side;

the mule relaxed its pace . . . Iiani was asleep again!

In another sense he was very wide-awake. He had represented to me that

he was the proprietor of the seven camels and five mules, but I quickly

discovered that he was only the owner of a completely worn-out old camel

and four mules: he had hired the other animals at a considerably lower

rate than I had agreed to pay him, therefore I should have the

difficulty of several discontented owners instead of one. However, we

had started before this fact was explained by my factotum Christo.

The route lay along the sea-shore through a forest of caroub-trees and

olives, occasionally varied by patches of cereals. Upon our right to the

sea-margin were tolerable crops of barley, most of which had been

irrigated by water conducted from the hills. At about four miles

distance from Kyrenia the caroubs and olives of all growths exhibited

the effects of north-easterly gales, as they inclined to south-west; and

those nearest to the sea, which acted as screens, and received the full

unbroken force of the wind, were seriously damaged. As we proceeded

towards Lapithus the trees became widely scattered, the slopes were

steeper, and the strip of level ground to the sea-margin narrowed to

only half a mile. The mountains rose rapidly from this base, and an

extra deep tinge of green showed the effect of streams, which in this

happy spot of Cyprus are perennial. Many little villages were dotted

about the mountain sides with groves of olives and other fruit-trees,

which appeared to be in danger from the impending cliffs, huge masses

having fallen and rolled to various distances at the bottom. The country

reminded me of the prettiest portions of South Italy.

At eight miles from Kyrenia we arrived at the thriving town of Karava,

built upon the mountain slope and watered by powerful streams diverted

into artificial channels from the parent bed. The large population of

this neighbourhood is principally engaged in the production of silk, for

which the locality has long been famous. Every garden that surrounded

the houses was rich in mulberry-trees, together with oranges and lemons

and the luxuriant foliage of the almond. We rode along steep paved lanes

within the town, through which the water was rushing in refreshing

streams, until we at length reached the precipitous edge of the ravine,

which in the rainy season becomes an important torrent. Although some

flour-mills are worked, I observed a terrible waste of water-power,

which might be turned to account for machinery. I heard the usual excuse

for this neglect, "The people have no money!"

We had ridden fast, and were far ahead of the baggage animals; we

accordingly halted to lunch beneath a shady caroub-tree near the edge of

the ravine, about fifty feet below. A French game-bag, with net and

numerous pockets, always contained our meals, which consisted of a cold

fowl, some eggs boiled hard, and a loaf of native brown bread or

biscuits. This was luncheon and breakfast, as we never indulged in more

than two meals a day, merely taking a cup of cafe au lait, or cocoa, in

the early morning, and our lunch or breakfast at any hour that

travelling made convenient. This depended upon the attraction of some

pretty spot or wide-spreading tree that suggested a halt.

We now remounted and rode to Lapithus, a mile and a half distant, and,

avoiding the town, selected a camping-place on the flat ground within

300 yards of the sea.

There was little difference between Lapithus and Karava. A succession of

mountain streams nourished the higher grounds, and having fertilised the

gardens and plots of cereals, were subsequently led into the fields

below.

Lapithus has been celebrated from an ancient date in like manner with

Kythrea, owing to the unfailing supply of water from its

mountain-springs, and, under the Ptolemies, B.C. 295, it became one of

the four provinces into which Cyprus was divided. Lapithus, north;

Amathus, south; Salamis, east; Paphos (now Baffo), west.

On the following morning our muleteer Iiani, having indulged in

cigarettes and sleep, was not ready to start at the proper hour, neither

were the animals forth-coming. We accordingly started on foot and

threaded our way through paved lanes, which twisted and turned in

various directions according to the positions of the houses and

innumerable gardens. The people were very civil, and directed us in the

right direction, although evidently surprised at our journeying on foot,

which is most unusual even among the poorer classes. We walked for more

than a mile through the town: the air was fresh and enjoyable, the

thermometer was 53 degrees at 7 A.M. Streams of clear water gushed

through the lanes in many places, which had created the flourishing

aspect around. With such a picture of prosperity before us, due entirely

to the presence of never-failing streams, it seemed incredible that the

great central district of Messaria should be left to the chance of

seasons when the means of artificial irrigation lie close beneath the

surface.

Upon quitting Lapithus the country on the west was almost devoid of

trees, and we walked for four miles and a half before we could procure a

shade. At this distance we halted to await the mules beneath a clump of

three caroub-trees close to the road side. Beneath this group were

several masses of rock which appeared to have rolled at some remote

period from the mountain side, as blocks of all sizes strewed the ground

in every direction. I was at once struck with a beautiful block of dark

green marble, and upon examining the neighbourhood I discovered many

pieces of the same material, all of which had evidently fallen from the

mountain's side, thus proving that the parent mass would be found in

situ were the high cliffs investigated. The mules arrived, and I

directed attention of Iiani to the fact, in order that I might procure a

specimen by sending him to the spot upon a future occasion. We now

entered upon groves of caroub-trees, and the ground was covered with

blocks of limestone and of marbles. As we proceeded the shore became

exceedingly narrow, as the base of the steep mountain sprang from within

a short distance of the sea. The quantity and varieties of marbles

increased, the dark green was present in large blocks, and several

masses of bright rose-colour suggested that rare and valuable qualities

might be profitably worked and exported, as great facilities existed in

the presence of snug little coves within only a few yards, where in the

summer months native vessels of twenty or thirty tons might anchor in

security.

The country now became exceedingly wild and rugged. The sea was in many

places exactly below us as we skirted the cliffs and occasionally

crossed the beaches of narrow coves. The high mountain upon our

immediate left was the western terminus of the Carpas range, and

exhibited peculiar geological features, eruptive rocks having burst in

some places through the limestone and created great disturbance. The

route was exceedingly interesting and beautiful, rocks of every shade of

colour were mingled with bright green foliage, the sea was an emerald

green in the shallow coves, and dark blue within a few hundred paces of

the shore, while a brisk breeze curled the waves and tipped their crests

with a glistening white. The path at length turned to the left and led

through a gap that rounded the mountain base, and formed the extreme end

of the Jurassic limestone, which only exists in Cyprus in the peculiar

wall-like Carpasian range running from west to east upon the northern

coast.

We crossed a stream of water at the bottom of the gorge which winds

through the narrow glen that terminates the range; and ascending upon

the opposite side, we at once entered upon steep slopes composed of

marls interspersed with an exceedingly bright rose-coloured marble in

veins of about two feet thickness. This would probably develop

considerable blocks if quarried to a greater depth.

Continuing for about two miles along the glen, which was cultivated with

barley in all available localities, we several times crossed the stream

in its winding course, and my dogs hunted the steep myrtle-covered banks

in expectation of game; but nothing moved, and the croaking of numerous

frogs was the only sign of life. The glen now widened to a valley about

a mile and three-quarters in diameter, surrounded upon all sides by

heights, and we commenced one of the steepest ascents in Cyprus, up the

face of the slope about 1000 feet above the bottom. The zigzags were

upon a surface of white marl, which during wet weather would become as

slippery as soap, and be impassable for loaded animals. Many times our

mules were forced to halt and rest, but they were good and sure-footed

beasts, that could always be depended upon.

At length we gained the summit, which was a total change of scene.

Instead of descending upon the other side, as I had expected, we had

arrived at a plateau eight or nine miles in length from north to south,

and an invisible distance from east to west. The soil was a rich reddish

chocolate, forming a grateful contrast to the glaring white marls that

we had just quitted, and which composed the steep hills that surrounded

the lower basin. A growth of young pines and other evergreen shrubs

ornamented the surface, and at about a quarter of a mile from the summit

of the pass by which we had arrived we halted at a well of pure water

among a small grove of olive-trees. Although we were at least 1000 feet

above the valley, the water was only ten feet from the coping-stone by

measurement. There could be little doubt that the perennial stream in

the deep glen was the result of the drainage of this extensive

table-land, corresponding with similar heights upon the other side.

Having breakfasted by the well of deliciously cold water, we remounted,

and continued our route along the extensive table-land. This was

cultivated in many places, but as we advanced for two or three miles the

country became exceedingly wild, and we entered a wood of Pinus

maritima, composed of young trees of several years' growth, and older

stems that had been mutilated in the disgraceful manner that

characterises all Cyprian forests. There was not one perfect tree above

eight years' growth; but every stem had been cut off about six feet from

the top for the sake of the straight pole. Trees of fifteen years or

more had been mercilessly hacked for the small amount of turpentine that

such trunks would produce, and the bark had been ripped off for tanning.

Great quantities of mastic bushes covered the surface between the pines,

and even these exhibited the continual attacks of the woodcutter's

grubbing-axe, which had torn up the roots, in addition to the stems, for

the requirements of the lime-burner. The red soil is so propitious to

the growth of pines that, in spite of the unremitting destruction, the

ground was covered with young plants, self-sown from the fallen cones.

If these young forests were protected for twelve or fourteen years, the

surface would again be restored to the original woodland that once

ornamented this portion of the island. Under the present conditions of

Cyprus all wholesome laws and enactments are practically ridiculed by

the inhabitants, as there are no foresters or keepers to enforce the

orders of the government. A governor may sit upon the top of Olympus and

issue wise decrees like Jupiter, but unfortunately he does not possess

the thunderbolts, as the country is so poor that it cannot afford to pay

the salaries necessary for the support of foresters and the officers

required for this special department. I myself met droves of donkeys and

mules loaded with wood and accompanied by their owners with their

destructive axes, all wending their way through the forest to the town

of Morphu, which is thus supplied with fuel for baking, cooking, lime-

burning, and all other purposes.

It is impossible to feel amiable when passing through these desolating

scenes, where nature, originally so beautiful, has been defaced, and the

people, instead of deriving pleasure from natural beauties, are obtuse

to all the surroundings, which, according to educated taste, would

ensure appreciation. I felt inclined to upset the donkeys, capture their

proprietors, and . . . I could not have hung them upon the trees that

they had defaced, for no bough had been left that would have supported

their weight . . . and there was no rope.

While these vindictive and statesman-likethoughts boiled within me, the

naturally courteous people made their graceful salaams as we passed, and

studiously conducted their heavily-laden donkeys out of the path to make

way for our advance, that otherwise would have been effectually choked

by the throng of bush-and-faggot-laden animals, which looked like

"Birnam-wood marching to Dunsinane." In my heart I immediately forgave

the poor people; I knew that the man with the axe who marched behind was

as ignorant, and not so strong, as his donkey who carried the load. They

had been both subjects of a bad government, and it was not their fault

that they were despoilers. You might as well blame the wind for the

destruction of venerable trees; or the locusts for devouring the crops;

they were ungoverned, and unfortunately the instinct of uncivilised man

is to destroy. I shall say more upon this important subject when we

arrive among the last remaining forests of the Troodos mountains.

We rode onwards, always through the same wilderness of old tree-stems

hacked, and young trees that would be hacked; at length we saw on a

cleared space in the distance what I imagined to be a long brown rock

lying upon the surface; but upon riding out of the path to examine this

object I found it was a splendid trunk of a pine-tree more that two feet

in diameter. Why this had been spared for so many years I cannot say,

but its size suggested reflections upon the original forests that must

have covered the surface and have ornamented the once beautiful island

of Cyprus; now denuded, and shorn of every natural attraction.

I again became angry; visions of the past primaeval forests appeared

before me, all of which had been destroyed: and as formerly we hung a

man in England for cutting an oak sapling, I thought that the same cure

for timber-destroying propensities might save the few remaining forests

in this island. While indulging in this strain of unphilanthropic

thought we overtook another throng of wood-laden donkeys and their

proprietors: again they smiled, courteously salaamed, and vacated the

path for us, little knowing what my inward thoughts had been. Of course

I smiled, salaamed as courteously in return, and forgave them at once;

and we proceeded on our way condemning Turkish rule, the impecuniosity

of our own government, the miserable conditions of our present

occupation, which rendered Cyprus neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, and

thus by degrees I lashed myself into the worst possible frame of mind,

until . . . we overtook another throng of polite donkeys and their

proprietors, who salaamed and got out of our way. Upon suddenly emerging

from the forest upon the edge of a steep slope, we looked down upon the

barren sand-coloured plain of Messaria. Our guide Iiani, who had been

asleep and awake for at least eight miles, suddenly burst out into a

ditty, and explained that a village in the plain below was Morphu, the

home of his wife and family.

Even from this elevated point of view Morphu looked a long way off. The

sleepy Iiani was sufficiently wide awake to steer for his wife, and we

had made a long march already. I doubted the possibility of the loaded

camels ascending the steep slope, which had severely tried our mules,

and I felt sure that liani's old camel would either knock up or tumble

down with his load, should he attempt the ascent. It was of no use to

reflect, and as Morphu lay before us in the now barren and sun-smitten

plain, we touched our animals with the spur and pressed on. Descending

for some miles, we passed a garden of olives, that must have been

upwards of a thousand years old, upon our right; and still inclining

downwards, through ground cultivated with cereals completely withered by

the drought, we at length arrived at the broad but perfectly dry bed of

the river. Crossing this, we steered for a grove of ancient olive-trees,

which I at once selected for a camping-place, on the outskirts of the

town. We were now twenty-three miles from Lapithus, and I felt sure that

our baggage animals would not arrive till nightfall.

As we sat beneath one of these grand old olive-trees alone, Iiani having

taken his mules to his home, and probably at the same time having

advertised our arrival, throngs of women and children approached to

salaam and to stare. I always travelled with binocular glasses slung

across my back, and these were admirable stare-repellers; it was only

necessary to direct them upon the curious crowd, and the most prominent

individuals acknowledged their power by first looking shy and conscious,

and then confusedly laughing and retreating to the rear.

We had arrived at 2.20 P.M., and we waited beneath the olive-trees until

8 P.M., when the advance camels at length came in after dark. It was

9.30 before the tents were pitched and the camp arranged. The great

delay had been occasioned by Iiani's old camel, which had, as I had

expected, rolled down the steep bill with its load, and having nearly

killed itself, had mortally wounded the sacred copper kettle, which

every traveller knows is one of his Penates, or household gods, to

which he clings with reverence and affection. This beautiful object had

lost its plump and well-rounded figure, and had been crushed into a

museum-shaped antiquity that would have puzzled the most experienced

archaeologist. Metal water-jugs upon which the camel had rolled had

been reduced to the shape of soup-plates, and a general destruction of

indispensable utensils had inflicted a loss more than equal to the value

of Iiani's animal.

The following morning (12th April) exhibited the extraordinary change of

climate between the northern and southern sides of the Carpas

mountain-range. The average temperature of the week had been at 7 A.M.

57.5 degrees F, 3 P.M. 66.5 degrees. At Morphu the thermometer at 7 A.M.

showed 62 degrees, and at 3 P.M. 83 degrees! It was precisely the same

on the following day.

It was a distressing contrast to the beautiful Kyrenia and the

interesting north coast to have exchanged the green trees and rippling

streams for the arid and desolate aspect of the Messaria. The town of

Morphu has no special interest; like all others, it consists of houses

constructed of sun-baked bricks of clay and broken straw, with

flat-topped roofs of the same materials. There are fruitful gardens

irrigated by water-wheels, and formerly the extremely rich sandy loam of

the valley produced madder-roots of excellent quality, which added

materially to the value of the land. This industry having been

completely eclipsed by the alizarine dye, Morphu has to depend upon silk

and cereals for its agricultural wealth. The population is composed

almost entirely of Greeks. There is a monastery and a large school.

I rode to the bay, about four miles and a half distant, passing many

villages, which, as we neared the sea, were in the midst of magnificent

crops of barley and wheat, resulting from artificial irrigation by the

water that percolates beneath the sandy bed of the dry river at a

certain level, which has been led into numerous channels before it can

reach the natural exit at its mouth. It must be exceedingly unhealthy,

as, for several square miles upon the sea margin, the country is an

expanse of marsh and bulrushes, abounding with snipe during the winter

months. On 13th April I walked over the greater portion of this locality

with my three spaniels, but the snipe had departed, and we did not move

a bird.

On the right side of Morphu Bay to the east, by Kormachiti, there are

extensive sand-dunes, forming deep drifts, which extend for several

miles inland at the foot of the hill-range that we had descended. These

exhibit the prevailing wind (north). Many people upon observing

sand-dunes attribute the most distant limit of the sand to the extreme

violence of the wind; but this is not the case. It is the steady

prevalence of moderately strong winds that causes the extension of

sand-drifts. The wind of to-day deposits the sand at a certain distance

from the shore. The wind to-morrow starts the accumulated sand from that

depot to form a new deposit about equidistant; and thus by slow degrees

the dunes are formed by a succession of mounds, conveyed onwards by an

unchanging force; but the maximum power of a gale would be unable to

carry thousands of tons of heavy sand to form a hill-range at the

extreme distance from the original base of the material. At Hambantotte,

in the southern district of Ceylon, there is an extraordinary example of

this action, where during one monsoon a range of mounds is formed which

might be termed hills; when the monsoon changes, these by degrees

disappear, and, according to the alteration in the wind, a range of

hills is formed in an exactly opposite direction.

I was glad to escape from Morphu; the wind from the dry plain was hot,

and brought clouds of dust. We were surrounded by throngs of people

during the day, many of whom were blind, including young children. The

13th April was the Greek Easter Sunday, and we could not start, as Iiani

declared that the mules had run away during the night, and could not be

found; we knew this was only an excuse for remaining at Morphu, and he

at length confessed that the mules were caught, and we could start in

the afternoon if I would allow him to wait until he should have received

the sacrament together with his wife. Having thus brought the

theological and the domestic guns to concentrate their fire upon me, I

was obliged to yield, and liani appeared in such a jovial frame of mind

in the afternoon, and smelt so strongly of spirits, that I suspected his

devotions had been made at the raki-shop instead of the altar.

On 14th April we started, and were thankful to leave Morphu. The route

lay across the plain westward, and in some parts we rode along the sea

margin, eagerly hurrying our animals to turn the corner of the hills and

escape from the hot and dreary plain. The breeze was northerly, and a

heavy surf broke upon the coast, exhibiting the exposed position of

Morphu Bay from north to west. On the eastern side the beach is sandy

and the water deepens rapidly, affording good and safe anchorage near

the shore; but should the wind change suddenly to west or north, the

position would be dangerous. The bay is the most striking of all the

numerous indentations on the shores of Cyprus. The bold points of Cape

Kormachiti and Cape Kokkino form the chord of an arc twenty-one miles in

length, from the centre of which the bay enters the land about eleven

miles. It would be impossible to land from boats even during a moderate

breeze from the west to north without considerable danger; but I can see

no difficulty in arranging a floating breakwater that would afford

shelter for small vessels and add materially to the importance of the

roadstead. These are the necessary improvements which require an outlay,

and unfortunately under the existing conditions of our occupation the

revenue that would be available for public works is transferred to the

treasury of Constantinople; thus the Turk still hampers progress, as he

governs Cyprus in the uniform of the British official. We rounded the

base of the hills, which rose rapidly from the shore, and crossed

several small streams thickly fringed with tamarisk, that would be

impassable during sudden storms of the rainy season. Several villages

were distinguished by their bright green appearance among the hills,

which denoted the existence of springs or rivulets, and as we proceeded

we observed that all crops in the low ground had benefited by artificial

irrigation.

After a ride of two hours and a half we arrived at Caravastasi, and

halted in a very stony field at the back of the village, beneath an old

caroub-tree that had grown thick and shady by the merciless hacking of

its taller boughs, which had reduced it to a pollard. The village of

Caravastasi consists only of eight or ten houses, but is rendered

important by a Custom-house. It is situated on the most inland point of

Morphu Bay, and is slightly sheltered on the west by a promontory, which

forms a neat little cove for the protection of small vessels; but it is

completely open due north. Nothing would be easier than to construct a

small harbour, by extending a pier or breakwater from the end of the

promontory in the required direction; and the present unimportant

village would become only second in importance to Kyrenia.

The positions of ancient sea-port ruins attest the value that attached

to certain geographical points in former days, and although the vessels

of those periods may have been much inferior to ships of modern times,

they were sufficiently large for the commerce of the country and for the

capabilities of the harbours. The trade of Cyprus will always be carried

by vessels from twenty to one hundred and fifty tons, and there should

be no difficulty in providing shelter for ships of this small draught of

water. The ruins of Soli, on the west of the present village of

Caravastasi, prove that the Athenians, who founded the original city,

were thoroughly cognizant of the value of a position which is the only

spot upon the whole northern coast of Cyprus that will afford shelter or

a landing-place, excepting the harbour of Kyrenia. In the early period

of Cyprian history Soli represented one of the independent kingdoms when

the island was divided into ten, Amathus, Cerinea (Kyrenia), Citium,

Chytri, Curium, Lapithas, Marium, Nea-Paphos, Salamis, and Soli. The

Phoenicians, from their own southern position, naturally selected the

ports most convenient for their trade, and accordingly settled on the

south coast of Cyprus, their chief towns being Amathus, Citium, and

Paphos; these were important commercial ports at a time when Cyprus was

in its zenith of prosperity, and were sufficient for the requirements of

the period. If the British occupation is intended to be permanent it

will be highly necessary to determine the classes of harbours that

should be provided, as it would be a useless extravagance to expend

large sums upon the construction of ports beyond the necessities of the

trade. As I have already expressed an opinion that the commerce of

Cyprus will be represented by vessels of moderate tonnage, the necessary

protection for such vessels may be obtained at an equally moderate

outlay, and both Soli and Kyrenia may be made available as safe harbours

for all traders upon the northern coast. Famagousta would become the

arsenal and dockyard for ships of war; Larnaca and Limasol would be safe

roadsteads for all classes, and could easily be arranged to protect

small trading-vessels; while Baffo would, like Kyrenia and Soli, be

restored to its original position. All rudimentary harbour-works would

be planned with a view to future extension, as might be rendered

necessary by the development of trade.

Colonel White, 1st Royal Scots, who had been appointed chief

commissioner of the Lefkosia district from his former similar position

at Larnaca, arrived at Caravastasi upon the same day as ourselves. This

very painstaking and energetic officer was exploring his district and

investigating all the nooks and corners of the mountainous frontier

which bounded his authority; he was accordingly assailed with complaints

and lamentations concerning the endless water disputes among the

villages; those of the lower ground declaring that the streams to which

they were entitled by the rights of centuries had been diverted to other

channels, that the Turkish authorities had been bribed by the opposing

litigants; with the usual long list of grievances, the discussion of

which I shall defer to a special chapter upon "Irrigation."