All the other knightly law-makers above enumerated, took part in this war. This emperor, who had already overcome the unruly nobility of his Italian dominions, had attained so high a reputation for wisdom and justice during his sojourn in the East, that many of the highest in rank and intellect supported his claims either openly or secretly. Philip of Navarre, who had diligently searched through many collections of laws, set himself to obtain all possible assistance from the law courts of Nikosia, Akkon, and Beyrout, and completed his arduous labours by arranging his materials into one grand statute book. This valuable work was afterwards considerably improved and enlarged by John of Ibelin. Like the “Lettres du Sépulcre,” this work was sealed up and placed in the cathedral in Nikosia, and might only be opened in the presence of the king and four barons: In this volume we find the entire code of the Middle Ages, and might take to heart many a lesson from the careful wisdom and far-seeing acuteness with which its laws were compiled.
CHAPTER VI.
SAN CHRISOSTOMO.
Cyprus, the most eastern island of the Mediterranean, must be regarded as belonging to Western Europe, if we are to class it by its architecture, its Gothic cathedrals, lordly castles, and ruined abbeys; yet its mountain ranges would seem to connect it with Syria and its open plains with Egypt. Of all the ruins of the age of chivalry, that of the castle of Buffavento, “the defier of storms,” is certainly the noblest and most interesting. Never, even in Spain or Italy, have I seen a finer combination of rugged grandeur and romantic charm than is to be found in this extensive ruin. Most ancient castles stand on an eminence of some few hundred feet, but the crest of Buffavento is reared as high as the Lion Mountain, a dark rocky pyramid 3000 feet above the level of the sea. Early on the morning of the 24th of April I rode forth followed by my dragoman, zaptieh, and other servants, to visit this interesting ruin, the foot of the mountain on which it stands being about four leagues from Nikosia. My dragoman and I carried our guns with us, and as we left the town were at once stopped by some soldiers who wished to take them from us, it not being legal, they told us, for foreigners to carry arms in Cyprus.
After a lengthened parley, and many assurances from my men that I was under the protection, and a personal friend, of the pacha’s, we were allowed to proceed, and went on our way rejoicing. Our road now lay through the broad and fruitful plain of Messaria: golden corn was waving in the breeze, and not a living creature was visible on the vast expanse; only the song of the lark was to be heard as it rose and fell in the blue sky above us.
It was still early morning, and the Cypriotes have an opinion that it is not safe to visit their fields and pastures till later in the day. The silence was so intense as to be almost painful, and the lovely landscape did not seem to coincide with the death-like quiet that reigned around.
We passed two small villages, which appeared deserted, but for the crowing of a cock which was perched on a mud wall. When we reached Manilia, we had to ride through the bed of the ancient river Pedias, the water of which, it being the end of April, was low enough to admit of our crossing in safety. As we landed on the other side, we saw, for the first time that day, some labourers in the fields. These were the four wives of an amply bearded old Turk, who calmly smoked his pipe, keeping his eye on his family meanwhile, to see they did not shirk their work, which consisted of lopping off the ears of corn with a small sickle—mere child’s play. As we approached the old man shouted out something to his better halves, and one of them, a negress, immediately threw part of her garment over her face, and turned away. With the other three, however, curiosity overcame their bashfulness, and their veils were only slowly drawn down after we had enjoyed a good look at their very ordinary faces. As we continued our way, the line of mountains that bordered the coast lay before us in an uninterrupted line, thirty leagues in length, forming a natural bulwark along the northern portion of the island, and terminating in the Carpasian peninsula. This range reminded me of the Vosges mountains, but is much more varied in form, and is far richer in its productions.
The highest peak of this range is only from 2000 to 3000 feet high, but passing as it does through an extensive open plain, the effect of its height is very deceptive, the mountains appearing very much higher than they actually are. The crests of this range display every form of rocky beauty, and its peaks, chasms, precipices, and bold bluffs are covered in some parts with tints of reddish brown, and in others with a purplish blue mist that gives them an indescribable charm which I have never seen elsewhere. As we approached these mountains, the ground rose gradually, and we perceived the rocks were quite bare, every variety of tint being produced by the play of the sunbeams on the rugged stones.
We now drew nigh the monastery of St. Chrisostomo, and very refreshing was the sight of its walls standing embowered in green trees at the base of bare and rugged mountains. Olive-trees were planted in some of its declivities, and oleanders, which had finished flowering, bordered a small rivulet. Everything around seemed to woo us to repose; the air was fresh and balmy, and from the mountain height we heard from time to time the tinkle of the bells of the sheep and goats browsing down below. Two old monks stood at the door to bid us welcome, and insist upon our dismounting and accepting their hospitality. These appeared to be the only inhabitants of the half-ruined pile. I have since learnt that the number of monks is steadily decreasing in all the monasteries of Cyprus. In the cloister garden were three lofty cypresses, and a fine palm-tree. Masses of ivy were clinging about the branches of the old apple and orange-trees. This garden is at the height of 1300 feet above the sea, backed by a wall of rock fully 2000 feet high. The eye turned with relief from this vast, lofty, and rugged expanse, and the dry parched plain beyond, to the soft green of the shady garden, and its rippling water.