Chapter VII: Kyrenia and the North Coast (1)

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.