On our approach to this village, I sent forward my dragoman to secure us lodgings for the night. As we followed him at the distance of about a mile we saw a huge square tower standing on a farmstead, and on advancing found that it was a building belonging to mediÆval times, but whether it had been part of a castle or a fortress I was unable to determine. The owner received us at the entrance of the court-yard in the kindest manner. He was a man of substance and good deportment, holding a position similar to that of the owner of a vineyard on the Rhine, and his house very much resembled that of a small farmer in the South of France. The lower part of the house was occupied by his numerous family. He himself lived in the upper part, to which we ascended by a wooden staircase leading from a kind of entrance hall. The furniture in these comfortable apartments had something of a European aspect; in the room were some fine greyhounds of a light yellow colour. Our host informed us that there were fifteen yoke of oxen upon the farm, but there was land enough to give employment to ten times the number.

After a short rest, we went to inspect the tower, under the guidance of the owner, who had ordered the servants to light it up from top to bottom with torches. It is a massive square building, with walls so thick that benches were placed in the recesses of the windows. A very simple coat-of-arms, carved in stone upon the exterior, shows that it was erected in the thirteenth century. The whole is a fine specimen of the very few baronial castles that remain. This structure is in excellent preservation, and furnishes a good example of Anglo-Norman architecture. I do not think that in all Europe there is any building of the sort in such good condition, except perhaps the well-known castle at Hedingham.

There are two lofty stories above the ground, and a deep cellar-like excavation beneath the level of the soil. The latter is divided into three compartments, and each of the former into two roomy chambers. Over the fireplaces are carved lilies, without any ornamentation, exactly resembling those represented in the coat-of-arms upon the outer wall. The portal is narrow, and a flight of small stone steps leads from one story to another; at the top is a broad platform surrounded by battlements. In the cellar there is a deep cistern or well partially filled up. The owner talked of having it cleared out, and I wished that he might have the luck to find some treasure at the bottom, to repay him for the bad harvests of the last two years, which, owing to want of rain, had been very scanty.

Manifestly the whole building had been constructed, not so much for a residence as for defensive purposes. It is situated near the middle of the peninsula, just where on the one hand the ground slopes towards the sea, and on the other spreads a wide amphitheatre of hills; it thus at once commands the sea, the coast, and the surrounding mountain region. This colossal structure must evidently have been unassailable by fire, by ladders, or by breaching the walls, while its defenders if hard pressed could retreat from one story to another. Under the battlements were numerous loop-holes, through which arrows might be shot with deadly precision against an advancing enemy.

The prospect from the lofty platform was extensive and beautiful. Sunset was rapidly approaching, and the clouds, illuminated by the departing rays of the glorious orb, were arranged in blood red masses and streaks, whilst beneath, the deep blue of the tranquil sea was here and there lighted up by broad patches of golden splendour. The mountains, however, were shrouded in a veil of grey mist. Low beneath us was the old church, whose architecture seemed a mixture of the ancient Roman with the earliest Gothic.

I learned that these old castles were crown property and belonged to the Sultan. During the course of our conversation the origin and intention of the building became manifest to me. I found that I was in the very centre of the world-renowned Commanderia. The Knights of St. John, after they were obliged to quit the Holy Land, established the head quarters of their order at Cyprus, just as at a later period they did in Rhodes and Malta. From Cyprus they issued forth under the protection and leadership of its knightly king, to fight gloriously against the Crescent, and very frequently the victory was due to the courage and prowess of these soldiers of the Church. The Bishop of Akkon, Jacques de Vitrey, in his account of the Holy Land gives us the following sketch of the Knights Templars:

“Covered with their white mantles, which were embroidered with a red cross, with their black and white banner ‘Beauseant,’ they rush forward to battle in silence. They have no war-cry. As soon as the general’s trumpet sounds, they lay their lances at rest, and repeating from one of the Psalms of David ‘Lord give us the victory, not for us but for thy holy name,’ they throw themselves upon the strongest part of the enemies’ forces. They never give way! they must break through or die! Does one of the brotherhood lose heart, he is deprived of his mantle and all his knightly honours for a year, and must eat his meals from the ground, without a tablecloth, disturbed by the dogs, that he is forbidden to drive away.” The order already possessed a “commande” (as the possessions of the knights were called) in Cyprus, and important privileges were conferred upon them by King Hugo I., in the year 1210. They were allowed to acquire territory, wherever they wished, to import or export all sorts of produce, and to grind their corn without charge in the king’s mills, which were situated on the stream Kythrea, near Buffavento. They had residences and gardens in Nikosia and Limasol, where the head-quarters of the order were established, and in addition to this occupied Platanistia and Finika, in the district of Paphos, and Mamgrallu and Kolossin in the district of Limasol.

In Kolossin, a French proprietor had possession of considerable domains, all of which were bought by the king and presented to the knights. And now Kolossin became their head-quarters; here dwelt the general of the order, and here was built, during the first part of the thirteenth century, the strong castle, which during war was their fortress, and in peaceful times the place where the festivals and assemblies of the order were held. Towards the close of the Middle Ages, not fewer than forty-one districts belonged to them in Cyprus. Their knowledge of husbandry and business-like habits enabled the Knights of St. John to bring their estates into a very thriving condition. The cultivation of corn, oil, vines, sugar-cane, and cotton increased in a wonderful manner, and because wine was produced only in the one district, or because the wine of that district surpassed the rest in quality, it was called Commanderia wine, and Kolossin was regarded as the centre of the wine-growing region.

We thankfully remembered the brave knights as we sat at table and tasted the excellent wine still produced on these hills. From them likewise the islanders learned how to preserve the little birds called beccafices, by simply plucking them, and packing them in jars filled with wine. The wine soaks thoroughly into the flesh, which becomes slightly hardened, and of most delicious flavour. Great numbers of these delicate little birds are killed in Cyprus.

The export of wine might easily be made a source of great wealth to the inhabitants; as matters at present stand, the wine imported has to pay a duty of one-sixteenth of its value, but fifty times more than is now grown might be produced from the rich lands, which at present lie waste and useless.

It is a wonder how, seeing the rude manner in which the wine is made, that it is so good as it is. Very little trouble is taken with it. Goats and young donkeys wander at their own wicked will through the vineyards during the early part of the year, and feed upon the young grapes. The clusters are gathered without the slightest selection, and thrown upon the ground, where probably they may remain until soaked with rain. After lying for a week to rot, they are pressed in the roughest way; the must is poured into large earthen vessels, which are frequently put into a room where rancid oil, grain, dried leaves, fruit, and all sorts of bad smelling things are standing and hanging around. In this polluted atmosphere the must has to undergo two fermentations. Over the earthen pot that contains the wine a flat slate is laid, or a cover with a little hole in it, through which at intervals a straw is introduced and a mouthful sucked out, partly as a drink, but perhaps more properly to ascertain how the wine is getting on; it may have grown sour or it may not. Should the fermentation have proved successful, the merchants come, ready to bargain about the price. This wine is kept in casks, through which the air is allowed to pass, and after a year is considered to be in good condition. As in many neighbouring countries, it is the custom in Cyprus to buy wine when a child is born and keep it to be drunk at its marriage feast.

Commanderia is first the colour of a topaz, and then becomes deep red, finally attaining the hue of good curaÇoa. Muscadine, the second quality of Cyprian wine, is very sweet and has a slight violet tinge when new, after some years it attains the thickness of syrup. Mavro, a dark red wine, is also much drunk in Cyprus; it is very dry and resembles Chateau Margaux.