Contrary to all my experience in Cyprus, when we quitted the farmer’s house, the worthy host at once complied with my request, that he would make some charge for our accommodation. This I accounted for by the fact, that the house standing on the highway between Limasol and Larnaka, would probably attract the attention of more strangers than could be comfortably entertained without proper remuneration. A present to the poor, if your resting-place has been a convent, or a little remembrance to the children of a family, is the most that is expected throughout all those parts of the East through which I have travelled, whilst should your entertainer be a man of position and means, you cannot, without giving offence, do more than offer a “pour boire” to the four or five men-servants who will appear at the door to see you start.
Our last day’s journey, which was short but delightful, lay over a wide tract of cornfields, in traversing which we passed the village of Kiti, with its little church, embowered in fruit trees, and not far from it another church standing on a piece of barren ground, without a shrub or tree near it. On our left towered a magnificent mountain, which rises abruptly to a height of two thousand feet, and bears upon its summit the once celebrated monastery of the Holy Cross, or Hagios Stavros. This building, which is rarely or never obscured by clouds or fog, can be seen from a considerable distance at sea, and has long been known to sailors as a landmark. St. Helena is supposed to have presented this cloister with a valuable relic, which brought many pilgrims and gifts to the brotherhood. This was a piece of wood, about as long as a finger, fashioned like a cross, mounted in silver, and had the reputation of being a veritable portion of the Saviour’s cross.
Whilst it was still light, we came in sight of Larnaka, the cornfields were crowded with labourers gathering in the harvest, and these, being principally Greeks, and therefore very conversational, we could hear a lively hum of many voices long before we reached the spot. We dined under the shadow of a large fig-tree, which grew upon the brink of a rippling stream. Numerous cranes, and whole hosts of beccaficos, came within such tempting reach of our guns, that, as soon as our repast was over, we started after them, over fields where horses and camels were grazing, and over marshy ground, until we reached the rolling, glittering sea. Our sport was excellent, for my dragoman knew every call and wile by which the birds could be allured, and it required some determination when it was time to return, to quit our delightful but peculiar shooting-ground.
On my return to Larnaka I had the luck to chance upon some dear friends, with whom I supped. Our host produced the best his cellar contained, in various sorts of wine, winding up with a bottle fifty years old, most delicious, but so strong that discretion only permitted us to taste it in thimblefuls.
Next day I paid many visits in the town, and was amused to find with what astonishment the history of my little journey across the island was received. I really believe that at that time there was not a single person in the island who had seen as much of Cyprus as myself.
CHAPTER XXIX
LAST DAYS IN LARNAKA.
In my eagerness to obtain all possible information, concerning the manners and customs of the people, I had often to encounter much disappointment. Imagine my disgust upon one occasion, when, having heard that a very rare and charming performance was about to take place, and having hurried to the spot indicated, a little coffee-house, I found the anticipated treat was nothing more nor less than the clumsy antics of a half-naked negress, probably a new arrival from Egypt, who was performing one of the hideous dances of which I had already seen too much. A few Turks sat around, watching her contortions and tremblings with unruffled dignity, and amongst the spectators I noticed some really respectable-looking Greeks. I speedily left the assembly, and reflected as I retired, as to whether this species of dance, might not have been the very kind performed, but in more graceful fashion, by the worshippers of Aphrodite, in the sacred groves that surrounded her temples. The next day was the feast of St. George the Martyr, which is regarded as a political as well as a religious celebration by the numerous Grecians in the island. This day is chosen as being the fête of King George of Greece, who they still regard as their lawful head.
It cannot but be regarded as a most strange coincidence, that the tutelar saint of England and her new possession, should be one and the same. St. George was regarded by several Eastern nations as their patron, and ancient Byzantine historians relate accounts of many battles gained, and miracles wrought, by his intercession. Among other churches, five or six were dedicated to him at Constantinople. He was also celebrated in France in the sixth century, and is said to have been chosen as the patron saint of England under her Norman kings. St. George of Cappodocia, “Martyr and Victor,” as he is sometimes styled, one of the seven champions of Christendom, was, no doubt, brought into connection with Cyprus, under the influence of Richard and his knights.