We can still see the lion of Venice and the old inscription 7 on the fortifications of the citadel of Famagusta, and here too is a fragment of the ancient palace of the Lusignan 8 dynasty, which has escaped destruction by the Turk only to be converted into a prosaic police station. Unlike the knights of Malta, the Lusignans made little impression on the natives of the island. They attempted to replace the national Greek Church by the Latin; yet the old Latin cathedral of St. Sophia is now used as a mosque, while, in spite of occasional persecution, the Greek Church still survives as the Church of the majority 9 of the people. Here is the outside of St. Sophia: it is partly ruined, but we can see that it was once a fine building. 10 Inside, it still looks like a church, except for the presence of Mohammedans wearing turbans. Out in the country, near Nicosia, we come on a fine old monastery, 11 still in the possession of the Greek Church. Notice the monks in their curious dress. Not far away is a once-famous 12 abbey, now somewhat decayed, as we may judge from a near view of the cloisters; here again is an ugly 13 modern village church, and here by way of contrast a famous tekkye, or Mohammedan shrine. Everywhere 14 Turk and Cypriote, Mohammedan and Christian, are side by side; and behind all is British power enforcing 15 law and order and compelling the different parties to live at peace with one another.
Cyprus of to-day is what the Turks have made it, since they conquered it from Venice in 1570; we have succeeded to a heritage of mis-government, and the conditions of our tenure hamper us greatly in the task of bringing back prosperity to the people. In 1878, after the treaty of San Stefano had been forced on Turkey by Russia, we agreed to defend the Asiatic dominions of the Sultan against further aggression, on condition first that reforms were introduced for the protection of his Christian subjects, and secondly that Cyprus should be occupied and administered by Great Britain. We added to the agreement an undertaking to pay annually to the Porte the surplus revenue of the Island at the time of the occupation, and to evacuate Cyprus if ever Russia should restore Kars and her other Asiatic conquests to Turkey. This undertaking has retarded the progress of the island under our rule in the past, since this tribute, which now goes to pay the interest on a Turkish loan, represents a steady drain on the revenue, so that it has been found necessary to make an annual grant-in-aid from the British Treasury.
Cyprus.
Yet Cyprus is capable of great improvement. It was famous in the ancient world for its beauty and fertility, and at one time supported a much larger population than at present. Let us get a general view with the 16 help of the map. A broad plain, the Messaoria, stretches for seventy miles from one end of the island to the other. In the midst of it is Nicosia, the capital, and at the eastern outlet is the port of Famagusta. On the north a narrow mountain ridge separates the lowland from the sea. Here is a view of Nicosia across the plain, with the mountain 17 ridges sheltering it on the north; and here is Famagusta as it appears from the roof of St. Sophia. It hardly 18 strikes us as a busy seaport. On the south of the plain a broader and more varied highland, rising to six thousand feet in Mount Troodos, fills the whole corner of the 19 island. Here we see Troodos from the south. The slope on our left is terraced for vineyards. Here is a closer view 20 of one of them. The southern slope of the mountain is the home of the vine, for which Cyprus was famous in antiquity, and all along its foot are the sites of ancient cities. The plain is fertilized by the silt brought down from the mountains by the heavy winter rains; but in the spring and summer the rivers dry up and disappear in the porous soil, and irrigation is necessary to retain the water for the growing crops. The inland plain is not only dry but intensely hot in summer, as the mountains cut off the cool breezes from the sea. Even the natives cannot work in the noonday heat, and we may often in our walks come on the harvesters taking 21 their noonday rest in the shade, as in the picture before us. At one time the climate must have been more equable, when the plain was heavily forested; even to-day it could be much improved by replanting the trees. The Government is undertaking the work, but the people and the goats are most destructive, so forest 22 guards have to be employed, such as the two picturesque figures who are posing here to our artist for their portraits. Time and money, especially money, are needed to repair centuries of neglect, and the natives will do nothing without European control. Here the climate intervenes; in spring and autumn it is not unpleasant for Europeans, but in the summer months, as in India, they take refuge in the hills, unless, as commonly happens, their duties tie them to the plains.
The future of Cyprus depends on its agriculture. The locusts, which at one time threatened to eat up everything, have been almost exterminated by special methods of trapping introduced by the Government; the real trouble arises from the recurrence of drought and from the backward condition of the native peasantry. Only a small part of the land is under cultivation, and the methods of the native are such as might be expected after centuries of misgovernment and excessive taxation. He scratches the surface of the soil with a primitive plough, sows the seed broadcast, regardless of weeds, and reaps the grain with sickles. The threshing is 23 equally primitive. Oxen drag about on the threshing floor a board studded with flints, and the grain is then winnowed by throwing it into the air with shovels when the wind happens to be blowing. We can quite understand that the wheat will not be of the finest quality after these operations. The methods of the peasant are those followed by his ancestors thousands of years ago, and he is slow to learn, though the efforts of the Government to teach him are now showing some good results.
To see the life of the real Cypriotes in its most primitive form we must go to the villages and farms; here 24 we see one of these villages, with its orange orchards; and here is a Turkish villager at the well. In the 25 coast towns we find another type, the Levantine Greek, who meets us everywhere on the shores of the eastern Mediterranean. He is a trader and shopkeeper—not a cultivator of the soil. The true Cypriotes are not modern Greeks, though they speak the Greek tongue and belong to the Orthodox or Greek Church. There are also many Turks settled in the island, but as the native Cypriotes are rather more industrious as well as more numerous, they are gradually regaining possession of the land, and the Turkish influence is growing weaker. But Turks and Cypriotes are alike in their backward methods and reckless waste of the resources of the country. They will cut down a whole tree for the sake of a single plank, and destroy an ancient building to make a stable. In the towns they have completed the work begun by the 26 great stone balls from the old Turkish cannon. Here is one of these old huge weapons which was fished up in Famagusta bay. It has an interesting history, since it is said to have been given by Henry VIII. to the Knights of St. John, to aid them in the recovery of Rhodes from the Turk. Primitive though it looks, such a gun could do a great deal of damage; and the builders completed what 27 the guns began. The ruins of ancient Salamis supplied stones for old Famagusta; of Salamis nothing but a 28 waste remains. Old Famagusta in its turn was dismantled, as we see it here, for the building of the new modern town, while much of the material was even sent by the Turks to Alexandria. It was easier to collect the stones ready made than to dig them from the quarries. We find fragments of ancient temples and monuments built into walls and farmhouses; and it is necessary to set a guard over some of the most interesting of the old ruins, as over the forests, to preserve them from further destruction, though the natives strongly resent this 29 interference with their usual habits. The Cypriotes have little regard for their own past history and its 30 monuments. Here are some of the famous ruins of St. Hilarion, with their guard: we can see how convenient the 31 native would find these ready-hewn stones for his building.
The importance of Cyprus in ancient and mediæval times was due to its position, with its harbours and shipping, between the great Powers to the north, east and south. It commanded the sea-routes which they used in their expeditions one against another. The old harbours are small and silted up, or mere open roadsteads 32 quite unfitted for modern steamships, like the famous Bay of Salamis which we see here. At Famagusta 33 we find a modern harbour, constructed by the Government, and here too the one little railway of the island starts for the interior and the capital. At one of 34 the stations a Levantine Greek brings us refreshments, while close by we see two Turkish women, closely veiled in yashmaks. Except at Famagusta we shall probably anchor off shore, and if the sea is rough we may find some difficulty in landing. Yet with the aid of really good harbours Cyprus might once again become a collecting centre for the trade of the neighbouring coasts, and so regain some of its lost prosperity. Political conditions have changed; the strong British garrison which formerly occupied the island has been withdrawn; but in the near future some of its past strategic importance 35 may return. The great railway, already in progress, from the Bosporus to the Persian Gulf, must approach the sea at one point only in its course, where it comes down over the Taurus range beyond the head of the Gulf of Antioch. The railway, when completed, will provide a route towards India roughly parallel to that through the Suez Canal, and may lead to a revival of agriculture in the rich valleys of the Euphrates and Tigris. The natural approach to this route from the Mediterranean is not by way of the Sea of Marmora but by the Gulf of Antioch, and there will be a branch from the main line to Alexandretta or some other port near. Cyprus will then once again be on the line of a great trade route and must have a share in its prosperity; at present it is side-tracked, and has suffered like an English town avoided by some great line of railway; its importance has declined as that of Egypt has increased. We may realize how far Cyprus is off the main line of traffic by the difficulty of getting back to our route; as it may take us a week to reach Egypt, travelling by slow steamer and touching at ports on the Syrian coast on our way.
We are bound for the Suez Canal and are approaching Port Said at last. The coast ahead looks flat and desolate: on our right a long line of sand and mud banks separates the shallow lake Menzaleh from the open sea; on our left are more mud banks, and beyond them waste marsh and desert. In front, for over a mile, two long piers jut out through the brown water on the shallows; very different it looks from the deep blue of the open Mediterranean. The piers are needed to protect the channel from the silt which is swept along the coast by the currents; within them, on one of the mud banks, stands the town of Port Said, modern, squalid and not specially interesting. We are in the extreme corner of the delta of the Nile, on the edge of the Arabian desert and far away from Egypt proper, with its picturesque life and people. Only commercial necessity could have planted a town on such a site; it is the gateway to the Canal and nothing more.
Our chief recollection of Port Said is likely to be 36 coal and coal dust. No sooner is the anchor down than barges are drawn by tugs up to the side of our vessel. The barges are sunk to the water’s edge with their load of coal, and on them stand crowds of men in dark robes, natives of Africa of every race. Even here, however, we are reminded of home, for the coal has probably been brought all the way from Cardiff and stored here for the supply of our mail boat and others like it which do not carry enough coal for long voyages at high speed. The barges are made fast to the side; gangways are hoisted into place; and then with much bustle and shouting the coal is shovelled into baskets and carried into the steamer’s bunkers by continuous streams of men. The black grit flies over everything, and we may perhaps avoid it by landing for a short glimpse of the town. We can stroll along the 37 front drive or up the main street and look at the bazaar or stalls, where we may bargain for valueless curios; but there is little to attract us here, and we shall be glad to leave the grimy port and, passing the fine buildings of 38 the Canal offices, enter on our ninety-mile journey through the great waterway.