Our road (with my servants we were a party of four) lay now for half a league along the declivity, our path appearing and disappearing at frequent intervals. As we passed along I observed many bee-hives. These were formed by earthen pots placed one upon another, with a small hole at the side. Close against a rocky flight of steps we found a small building in ruins. Here, I am told, there was formerly a garden, so lovely that it was known as “Paradise,” Buffavento was previously called “the Queen’s Castle,” Castello de Regina, from its having been a favourite resort of the island queens during the hot season. We can well imagine that whilst they held court above, their knights and squires had jovial times in the neighbouring monastery of San Chrisostomo. When we reached the house called “Paradise,” I dismounted and looked around. Certainly the spot was one on which the eye loved to linger. Formerly the mountain was covered with trees, which have now disappeared. Below lay rippling waters and fertile pastures, and in the background the beautiful capital of the island. As I looked I saw in the distance a shepherd boy, who, it occurred to me, might be willing to act as guide in our adventurous undertaking. My zaptieh galloped after him and brought him to me. The young peasant seemed to regard the matter as an excellent joke, and willingly agreed to conduct us, honestly assuring us, however, that he had never yet reached the summit himself. Our guide at once commenced mounting with the agility of a young goat, and I followed in his wake, whilst behind came my dragoman and zaptieh, groaning and panting, with drops of anguish upon their brows. My heart beat with delight when, after half an hour’s climbing, we reached the mountain’s ridge, and looked down from a precipice several thousand feet high, broken in all directions by enormous clefts and gullies, whilst beyond lay a broad expanse of blue sea. The coast from here is about a league from the foot of the mountain, and every inch of the ground is valuable. Gardens, orchards, and meadows extended formerly in all directions. Along the coast are small villages, lying, as is very unusual in Cyprus, so near, that I could see from the one to the other. In this narrow strip of country are still to be found some traces of the ancient beauty and fertility of this neglected island. This is certainly rightly regarded as the richest district in Cyprus, whilst its fine sea breezes and numerous mountain streams render it one of the healthiest. My gaze lingered long on Keryneia, whose elevated fortress formed a most striking object on the line. Directly beneath us, so close that I could have dropped a stone upon it, lay Bellapais embedded in olive-trees, the finest monastic ruin I am told in Cyprus. Cloisters, refectory, and the knight-chamber are still recognisable. The abbot was entitled to carry the spurs and dagger of a knight, and his monastery was a favourite resort of crusaders and pilgrims. As I turned towards the interior of the island, I beheld a broad expanse glowing in the sunlight. This, the extensive plain of Messaria, occupies nearly half of the island, and two centuries ago was one huge highly-cultivated field, filled with corn, vines, fruit, and vegetables. Numerous cotton and silk weaving establishments also formerly flourished here. Every year this once fruitful plain becomes more unfit for cultivation, and stones and marshes usurp what was once a scene of the highest cultivation. Nothing fills the mind of the traveller in Cyprus with sadder reflections than the sight of this general ruin and rapid decay.

I now commenced climbing the precipitous mountain before me, which towered aloft in rugged majesty, stretching its peaks and precipices to the right hand and the left. My dragoman endeavoured to follow me, but sank down in dismay at the task before him. Indistinct murmurings reached my ear, and I have no doubt that if I could have heard his words, they were not prayers for my success, but maledictions on my adventurous head. I believe he and my zaptieh were fully convinced that my ascent was made in the hope of finding concealed treasure; for when at last they reached the ruin, my slightest movement was jealously watched, and my every act evidently regarded with suspicion. We entered the ancient fortress by an arched doorway, which is still in good preservation, and mounted slowly from one ruin to another; many of the chambers in these being mere excavations in the solid rock, and resembling bakers’ ovens in appearance.

In such places as the nature of the rocks would permit, hollow basins were formed and channels cut to receive the springs that then flowed in all directions on the mountain. We came upon several of these receptacles, and saw traces of what had evidently been much more important water tanks. In the fortress itself, comparatively slight walls were interspersed with rude masses of masonry, and both were cemented to their foundations by mortar, literally as hard as stone. The ruin appeared to consist of six divisions rising one above the other, and all connected by the ramparts. Such a fortress could never have been reduced as long as its defenders had bread and wine enough to support life. Perhaps there are few stranger scenes than that of a ruin situated thus in mid-air. Danger in climbing there was none, beyond the risk of slipping, as we seized at a piece of old masonry in mounting from rock to rock and tower to tower.

One of the principal towers is still in tolerable preservation, and to this I at once ascended, and was more than rewarded for the attempt. Before me lay on the one side an awful precipice, at the foot of which stretched green plains and a broad expanse of sea, and on the other side a sunny plain extending to the lofty mountains of the western part of the island with Mount Troados showing its snow-capped head. On one side a wall or rock rose towering towards the sky and hid a portion of the coast from my view. Observing the summit of this rock attentively, I felt convinced that I could discern a building on its peak. My servants were tired and refused to assist me in any further explorations. Formerly, no doubt, this eminence had been reached by means of wooden bridges, but no trace of them was left, and a sheer and rugged wall towered above us and presented the appearance of being perfectly inaccessible. In vain I sought for anything like a foothold. At last a bright idea flashed upon me; I seized our guide by his shoulders and pointing out the building at the summit of the rock, put my arms about a block of stone, mounted upon it by this means, and then again pointed to the summit. The boy laughed and nodded, and, without a moment’s hesitation, commenced scrambling up the face of the rock, pausing as he every now and then reached a safe footing, to look down upon us after the manner of the mountain goat, whose agility he emulated. My zaptieh gazed upon me with a countenance highly expressive of the conviction that all chance of his sharing any hidden treasure I might find was now over; but I have no doubt comforted himself with the hope of getting from the boy a full account of all that was done above. I now commenced following my nimble guide, and, thanks to a steady head, found the attempt by no means as dangerous as it had appeared from below; reaching the summit considerably sooner than we anticipated. Here I found a tower and the remains of a wall with apertures where windows had once been, and chambers excavated in the rock. The view from this point amply repaid me for all my exertions. A long greenish yellow line of coast lay between the sea and the mountain, whilst the towering rocks of Asia Minor were visible on the horizon. At first they appeared like clouds, but gradually I distinctly recognised the Caramanian range and the Cilician Mount Taurus, and could distinguish their various outlines and fields of snow.

The most remarkable feature in this scene, however, was the range of mountains on which I stood, and of which the peak of Buffavento, rising some 3000 feet above the sea, appeared the highest point. Seen from this view the ranges resembled enormous furrows, extending along the coast and stretching far into the sea. The narrow neck of land, the tongue of the island, as the Greeks call it, which extends towards the opposite continent, forms the Carpasian peninsula. The inhabitants of this part of the island are of fairer complexion, and are stronger, and of more lively disposition than the rest of their countrymen; they have also, we are told, many customs peculiar to themselves. It is supposed this peninsula was formerly colonised by a band of German crusaders. In St. Andronika a fÊte is annually held in honour of a German lady, who came over from Syria and settled in this spot, where she lived as a recluse, and died in the odour of sanctity. Other authorities tell us that many traces of ancient Greek are to be met with in the dialects spoken by the inhabitants, which are quite unknown to the languages spoken in other parts of Cyprus. A gentleman who visited this peninsula informed me that the people are very inhospitable, dirty, and shy of strangers. Their food consists principally of barley bread; their clothes are made of sackcloth, and their dwellings formed in caves, in the rocks, and other equally wretched situations, and are without either tables or beds. The north-western declivities are covered with fig-trees. Altogether, the description did not tempt me to make my own observations in this, but rarely-explored spot. As I descended from my lofty perch I noticed that the walls and towers had been blown up with gunpowder. This was done by the Venetians, shortly after they took possession of the island. In 1489 they proceeded to destroy all the noble castles and fortresses of the interior, in the fear that they might be used as strongholds in case of rebellion against their rule. These fortresses were, therefore, thrown down as dangerous, and useless to the Venetians themselves, whose fine fleet enabled them to land men at any part of the island. Some few fortresses, however, on the coast, such as Famagusta, were kept in tolerable repair. The crown lands were put up for sale to the highest bidder, and were, in many instances, bought by the lower class of nobles, who in this manner became a power in the land, opposed to the barons of long descent, who had been the pride of Cyprus under the dynasty of Lusignan. These latter felt themselves highly injured, but what could they do? The Venetian senate gave them the title of allies, and made no attempt to interfere with the book of statutes, but left the barons no occupation beyond that of hunting and feasting. They, therefore, retired to their castles or abbeys, and commenced leaving the country. The Venetians had rendered Cyprus defenceless and taxed her so heavily that a strong desire arose among the inhabitants for a change of government. Such were the destroyers of Buffavento; as to who actually built the noble fortress in such a commanding situation opinions greatly differ.