Cyprus, as I Saw It in 1879

by Sir Samuel White Baker

(*The cork oak is mentioned in some works on Cyprus as indigenous to the island; this is a mistake. The ilex is plentiful, but not the cork-tree.)

Although the walnut cannot be classed with forest-trees indigenous to Cyprus, it flourishes abundantly at a high elevation, ranging from about 2500 to 5000 feet above the sea. At Trooditissa monastery there are trees that were planted by the hands of the old monk, my informant, only twenty years ago, which are equal in size to a growth of fifty years in England. The planting of walnuts should certainly be encouraged, as the wood is extremely valuable; at the same time that the crop yields an annual revenue.

The preservation and extension of the woods and forests throughout the mountainous districts of Cyprus are a simple affair, which only requires capital and common sense combined with the usual necessary experience. There are other portions of the island which require a different treatment.

It is the fashion to accredit every portion of Cyprus as tree-bearing in its early history, but if the student will compare the large population reported to have existed at that time with the superficial area of the island, it will be plainly seen that a very large proportion must have been under cultivation, otherwise supplies must have been imported. I have before mentioned my opinion that the hard bare surface of the denuded cretaceous hills could never have borne timber, neither do I believe in the traditions concerning forests in the plain of Messaria, for the simple reason that it must have been the cereal-producing area of the island.

The ancient forests must have existed where the vestiges remain to the present day, in which localities the natural inclination of the soil is to produce trees, which are still represented, in spite of the hideous destruction perpetrated by the inhabitants during many centuries. These positions include the entire Carpas district, together with the long range of compact limestone mountains forming the northern wall of the island, the northern coast and western, comprising the country between Poli-ton-Khrysokhus, and Baffo, and the central and coast-line from Baffo to Limasol, with exceptions of lands here and there cultivated with cereals. The greater portion of the mountains that are now occupied with vineyards were originally forests, which have been cleared specially for the cultivation of the vine. I have seen ground at an elevation of 4800 feet where the vineyards originally existed upon cleared forest soil, which, having been abandoned, is relapsing into its former state, becoming more or less covered with pines as birds may have dropped the seeds, or the cones may have been driven from higher altitudes by wind and rain.

The question that must now be determined is this: "What portions of the island are to be restored to forest?" Any person who has carefully examined the country can reply without hesitation, "Plant all useless lands with trees; those useless lands are already more or less covered with bush or woods, and denote their own position, in the Carpas, the Troodos, and all mountain and hill ranges."

Where ancient forests have disappeared in favour of cultivation, it would be folly to convert an improvement into the original wilderness. That question is easily simplified, and when the department of Woods and Forests shall be established, a few years of energy will produce a new picture in a country where the growth of timber proceeds quickly.

But the last necessary reform still remains unnoticed; this should determine the amount of caroubs, mulberry, and fruit-trees that should be CUMPULSORILY planted by all proprietors of land in proportion to their acreage; and this is absolutely necessary.

As I have described in many portions of our journey through Cyprus, the simple action of an insignificant stream, or of a solitary cattle-wheel, forms an oasis in the rainless desert of the Messaria, and the eye that has been wearied with the barren aspect of a treeless surface is gladdened by the relief of a sudden appearance of groves of oranges, lemons, and other shady trees, the result of a supply of water. Whenever such welcome spots are met with upon the miserable plain, the question invariably arises, "Why should such fruitful and delightful positions be so rare? The soil is fertile, the climate is favourable, all that is required is water, and energy."

If a Cypriote is asked the question, he invariably replies "that during the Turkish administration the fruit-trees increased their troubles, owing to the vexatious and extortionate taxation of the crops, therefore they were glad to be quit of them altogether." Your question No. 2 follows, "Why do you not plant trees now that the English have occupied the country?" The reply is stereotyped, "We are not sure that you will remain here permanently, and if you abandon the island the Turks will resume the old system with even greater oppression than before." This is an unanswerable dilemma, which no doubt retards improvements; but there is a third difficulty which is invariably brought prominently forward when any suggestions are made for an extension of agricultural enterprise: "We have no money." This is absolutely true, although I have heard the assertion contested by certain authorities. The people as a rule are miserably poor, and cannot afford to run the risks of experiments, especially during the present uncertainty connected with the British occupation.