During the evening many priests of various ranks dropped in, said a few words, and again departed. It seemed to me they had very much their own way with their good-hearted bishop. These visitors were followed by the kaimakan, or governor, who appeared followed by half a dozen attendants. This gentleman chatted with us for an hour, and then left, begging me to allow him to send an escort with me on my journey of the following day.
Early next morning I proceeded on my way, and as we approached Hierokipu, I saw many grottos hewn in the rock, and noticed again and again that the ground over which we passed sounded hollow as it was struck by our horses’ hoofs. I was informed by a gentleman we met, who owned property in the neighbourhood, that two years ago he had found a place in which were five chambers hollowed in the rock, with a kind of entrance hall in front neatly constructed of square blocks of stone; within this stood a round pillar which had no doubt served as an altar. Many of the odd little flasks and vessels were found here which have been supposed (in my opinion most absurdly) to have been receptacles for tears. These contained resin and ointment, the perfume of which filled the whole chamber. When we were only some few hours’ distance from Old Paphos or Kuklia, I rode down to the shore and took a survey of the surrounding view. The mountain gullies were now dry, but at other seasons, it was evident that the whole coast would be flooded by the streams that flowed through them during the wet season. I now ascended a slight eminence on which once was the site of a temple built by Ptolemy Philadelphus, and dedicated to his beautiful spouse Arsinœ, who was there worshipped under the name of Venus Zephyritis. Dinochaus, the architect who completed the temples of Diana Ephesus, we are told, contemplated making the temple of Arsinœ of loadstones, with a statue of the queen suspended in the air by the power of magnetism, but he died before the strange idea could be carried out. The daughter of this queen was the fair Berenice, whose beautiful locks have been so celebrated. This lady dedicated her luxuriant tresses to the goddess should her husband, Ptolemy Evergetes, whom she tenderly loved, return uninjured from the war he was then engaged on. After three years he did return, ladened with spoil. All the south part of Asia Minor had submitted to him, and he erected two temples in commemoration of his victories there, calling them Arsinœ and Berenika. On this successful issue of her petition the fair wife of the conqueror at once cut off her magnificent tresses, and had them suspended in the temple of her mother, the so-called Venus Zephyritis, Cyprus in those days being united with Egypt under the Ptolemies.
What became of this wonderful hair is unknown, but Konou of Samos, the astronomer, announced, by way of flattering the lovely queen, that “Jove himself had stolen the tresses and placed them in the sky as a constellation.”
The “Sacred Road,” which took its name from the number of worshippers carrying their offerings, who formerly passed backwards and forwards between Old and New Paphos, gradually rose slightly above the shore, and as I looked around I could not avoid noticing the great beauty of the sea foam as it rose in snowy wreaths from the stones on which it beat. At some seasons, when a south-west wind is blowing, this foam rises as high as the feet of the trees and shrubs, and presents the appearance of small tracks of snow. The shore at this point, I am told, would afford a rich field for the naturalist; I myself saw millions of crustaceans and microscopical creatures lying upon the stones. Gazing upon the scenes I could readily suppose how the vivid imagination of the Grecian temperament should have led them to describe the Goddess of Love as having first reached the shores of Cyprus mounted on the foamy crest of a wave.
Cesnola tells us, that the two Christian churches, now both in ruins, one of which was built within the area of the temple, and the other within the boundary wall, the palace of the Lusignans, and the entire village of Kuklia, have been constructed with the stone from the ruins of the ancient city. Attached to each house is a penfold, built without mortar, of loose stones. The church that stands within the temple limits has several fine marbles embedded in its walls, bearing inscriptions, which had obviously belonged to some more ancient edifice, before they were placed in their present positions.
An old ruined castle, and a few miserable dwelling-houses, are all that now remain of what was once Old Paphos, now known as Kuklia. We rested for a time in a wretched coffee-house, which was full of zaptiehs, who were quartered here, whilst they collected over-due taxes. Groups of people stood around, some looking pitiable objects with their wan, anxious countenances, whilst others again were perfect embodiments of cunning and stupidity. The chief officer of the soldiers, when I arrived, was addressing this crowd with polite dignity and a great variety of expressive gestures. It was whispered in my ear by one of the party, that rage and threaten as their rulers might, no more money could be wrung from this wretched population. In respect to their extreme poverty, these miserable beings appeared to me to be no worse off than the inhabitants of Ktima and other places we passed through. A few stalwart men were amongst the crowd, but for the most part the people appeared weakly, and to blend the Grecian, Syrian, and Italian types of countenance. After vainly endeavouring to persuade some Turkish family to give us lodging, we were glad at last to take refuge in a kind of very high shed, the mud walls of which contained but one room. In this I camped with all my three servants. A carpet and coverings were procured, and with these we made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit. After a short rest I issued forth to examine this wretched place, and standing upon the flat roof of a hut that stood below ours, I obtained a clear view of my surroundings. The whole place appeared to be a mere heap of ruins, the pillars and foundations of ancient palaces. The heights around exhibited a few yellow flowering shrubs, interspersed with green palms and other trees, whilst around and about this scene of desolation stood the dwellings of the poverty-stricken inhabitants. Below me was the court-yard of a Turkish house, in which I could see the women at their work. They wore veils, and I could not help noticing how much they seemed to inconvenience them, as they threw them first on one side and then to the other, to be out of their way.
I now descended and proceeded to explore the Aditum, the only ancient sacred edifice in Cyprus, which, thanks to the pictures of it found on gems and coins, we can reproduce before our eyes. It had, apparently, been a square building with a fine entrance, and a low wing at either end. On each side of the portal were two obelisks. This temple was surrounded by a barrier, in the centre of which stood the principal altar. In the innermost recesses of this edifice once stood the mysterious veiled stone of Astarte Aphrodite.