Next morning we journeyed onwards towards Amathus. The day was lovely, one of the most exquisite I have ever experienced in any climate, and as we galloped along, my veins seemed to dance with every breath I drew. At such moments one readily comprehends why the inhabitants of Cyprus have never taken any high place in the fields of literature and art, and why its seductive and enervating air has always proved attractive to the Turks, as it did formerly to the ancient Romans. Our road lay through waving cornfields, the rich golden hues of which were finely contrasted with the deep blue waters of the sea, which in many places reached the very borders of the fields. Suddenly a change arose, the sun mounted high into the heavens, and beat down upon us with such fiery force and fury, as caused me fully to appreciate the appropriateness of the symbol stamped upon the ancient coins of Cyprus, namely, a devouring lion, backed, in some instances, by an image of the sun’s rays. Terrible, indeed, is the destruction worked by the ravening jaws of Phoebus Apollo, upon the fruitful gardens and flowery plains of this fertile island. At these seasons, only such fields as lie close to the sea can resist the parching blight; in these tracts on the shore, plants of all kind flourish luxuriantly, drawing the moisture which supports them from the refreshing dews borne to them from the neighbouring waves. In such of these cultivated portions of the coast as also enjoy the moisture brought by the smaller streams, as they discharge themselves into the sea, the harvests and crops are still more luxuriant. Not only the country near to Limasol, over which I was now riding, but the coast about Episkopi, Kition, Larnaka, Famagusta, besides the north coast near Morphu and Lagathos, and other places, possess many of these most valuable agricultural districts. Much land has already been reclaimed for the purposes of cultivation, and there is no reason why so successful an experiment should not be attempted upon many other parts of the coast.

After about two hours’ riding, we reached what appeared to me to be the ruins of a church, standing close to the shore, and beside these a heap of ancient hewn stones, lying ready to be shipped for Port SaÏd, where they were to be employed in the construction of a new harbour. On our left rose a mountain, with fields of corn extending to a considerable distance up its slopes. My dragoman was most desirous to ride on, without my lingering to investigate the spot, and when I assured him that this mount was certainly the site of the ancient Amathus, positively asserted that not a trace of anything was to be seen. I believe the rascal was afraid he should again get more climbing than suited his indolence, for he declared in piteous accents that it would take us fully an hour to reach the summit. By this time, however, I knew the gentleman I had to deal with, and persisted in my determination to make the attempt. Our road was certainly of the steepest, but the way was short, and in about fifteen minutes we were at the top. Much did I rejoice that I had persevered in my own course, for before me lay the spot that I had sought. The mount was indeed a natural fortress of the first order, and must have afforded most secure refuse during the disturbed periods of the island’s history. On the side facing the sea, by which we had ascended, I could trace the foundations of an ancient rampart. On the other three sides, such protection had been quite unnecessary, as the rock rose sheer, and almost perpendicularly from the fruitful valley at its base. Here had once stood a large city, founded by the Phoenicians, which is still called in Hebrew, Hamath, or the fortified city. The building appears to have covered the eminence, and from thence extended to the shores of the sea. Tacitus, and other ancient writers, speak of Amathus as the oldest city in Cyprus; at the present day, it may be described as the one of which the traces have been most ruthlessly destroyed. With the exception of the shattered pieces of a gigantic vase, of which I shall speak presently, and the ruined church upon the coast, no trace is left of its former greatness. From the top of the mount to the very shores of the sea, every sign has been removed, beyond that afforded by heaps of broken stones and potsherds.

Twelve years ago, the last valuable was removed by French antiquarians. This relic was one of two gigantic vases, finely shaped in solid stone, with sides almost a foot in thickness, and ornamented with four gracefully arched handles, decorated with palm branches, and adorned upon its sides by the images of four bulls. The interior of this delicately chiselled but gigantic vase, was about ten feet in diameter, and so deep that an ordinary man standing within could just have looked over its edges. At the time this spot was visited by the French travellers we speak of, one of these two precious relics stood above ground, and was quite perfect, whilst the other was partially buried in the earth. Disgraceful as it may appear, the fact is certain, that when the French officers, who were overlooking the removal of the perfect vase, found that its companion, embedded in the earth, was somewhat in their way, they at once ordered the sailors who were with them to smash it to pieces. This fact was related to me by a gentleman of high position in Limasol, who was an eye-witness of this act of wanton destruction. My zaptieh, Hussein, it afterwards appeared, had been present with his master, my friendly pacha, whilst this monster vase was being pulled down the mountain, and spoke with enthusiasm of its enormous size and beauty. He also informed me that the French frigate, “La Perdrix,” commanded by Comte de VÖgue, had a small steamship to assist in conveying the valuable relic. I found pieces of a handle of the broken vase lying strewn about the mountain.

For a thousand years, these giant mementos of a former age had stood upon these mountains, to record the grandeur of past ages, and would have remained untouched by the wear and tear of centuries to come, had it not been for the barbarous Vandalism of a handful of French officers. What may have been the use of these magnificent vessels, is quite uncertain; the oxen sculptured upon them would appear to give them a religious significance, and we know that similar vases stood without the Temple at Jerusalem. It is most probable they were in some manner connected with the numerous sacrifices that formed so large a part of the religious ceremonies to Venus.

On these heights, the feasts in honour of Adonis were held. This beautiful youth, the beloved of Venus, is said to have met his death in the Idalion forest between Larnaka and Famagusta, where, according to heathen mythology, he was killed by a wild boar he had wounded. Anemones are said to have sprung up from the ground that was moistened by his blood. These feasts to Adonis, which were first celebrated at Byblos, in Phoenicia, were afterwards introduced to Greece and Cyprus. In the latter country they lasted eight days, of which the first four were spent in howling and lamenting, and the four last in joyful clamours, as if Adonis had returned to life. The orgies, in connection with these feasts, were immoral in the extreme, and we are told that Pygmalion, the celebrated statuary of Cyprus, was so disgusted by the profligacy of the women of Amathus, that he resolved never to marry. The affection he had denied to the other sex, he, therefore, liberally poured forth upon the creation of his own hands. He became enamoured of a beautiful marble statue he had made, and at his earnest request and prayers, the Goddess of Love changed the favourite statue into a woman, whom the artist married, and by whom he had a son named Paphos, who founded the city of that name in Cyprus.

The ascent of Amathus would well repay any one who would attempt it, if only for the magnificent view presented from its summit. On one side lies a broad expanse of blue sea, and on the other a semicircle of dark heights and peaks, whilst between the two extends the gay and luxuriant valley, stretching its fruitful fields and gardens to the shore.

“Under the Ptolemies,” says Cesnola, “and in the later history of Cyprus, Amathus appears to have lost the ancient importance which it enjoyed, when ruled by its own kings, and when its natural allies, the Persians, were all-powerful.”

“On the hill on which it stood nothing is now visible but a vast amount of stones, plaster, and broken pottery. Even the hill itself is fast losing its form, while the rock of which it is composed is being cut away, to be shipped at Port SaÏd, bringing to the merchants of Limasol a profitable return. From the great amount of dÉbris which covers the surrounding fields, for the most part untilled, Amathus, it would seem, though small in area, must have been a thickly populated city. Originally the upper part of the hill had been encircled by a wall, remains of which are now scarcely perceptible; portions, however, of another wall of a later period may especially be observed on the southern side looking towards the sea, and following the sinuous windings of the hill. I found imbedded in this wall pieces of terra-cotta jars and fragments of granite columns, which had been used as building materials. On the southern side, portions of it ran as far as the shore. It is probable that the square built ruin, at the southern end of the hill, formed a gateway, since, between the city and the sea-shore, there was, and still is, the high road to Paphos. On the crest of this hill I dug at several places, until I came to the solid rock, but failed to discover any sculptured remains of importance. I found, however, sufficient evidence to convince me that most of the building materials of what I call the Phoenician city, had been used for the construction of the later Greek buildings.”

“Amathus, when subsequently inhabited by a Greek population, spread itself in a more south-easterly direction, and nearer to the sea-shore, protected by the second wall, which I spoke of, and though at the time of its destruction by King Richard of England, it was still the seat of the last Duke of Cyprus, Isaac Comnenas, it had already lost most of its splendour and importance.”

“It was on the top of this hill, that M. de VÖgue discovered the large stone vase which is now deposited in the museum of the Louvre. Near the same spot, there are fragments of what seems to have been a similar vase. In the immediate vicinity of the site where these vases were found, I dug up, on a former excursion, three large shafts of columns, of a hard bluish stone, resembling granite. I left them half-buried in the soil, with the intention of examining them on a future occasion; but when I returned, the columns had disappeared, having been broken up for building purposes. There are thousands of stones on the top and sides of this hill, which would equally well suit the purposes of these workmen, but it seems that they are possessed by some infatuation or evil mania for destroying whatever bears the traces of man’s handicraft. It is the more to be regretted, since among the ruins very few architectural or sculptured remains are now found.”

Far away in the distance, is the town of Limasol, washed by the waters of its beautiful and rounded bay, behind this again a long line of coast, and then the eye just discerns the promontory of Curias, stretching its length far into the sea, where it terminates in Capo delle Gatte. Cesnola gives an amusing account of the origin of this name, which is too interesting to be omitted. “On one occasion,” he says, “my mule was terrified by a sudden leap from a bush, of what appeared to me to be a cat; my guide assured me that both at this cape, and near to Acrotiri, there are wild cats, which hunt and destroy the asps abounding there. I at once recollected having read that the ‘Caloyers’ of the convent of Acrotiri raised and trained a superior breed of cats, which they imported from Constantinople, to kill the asps in their neighbourhood. That at the tolling of a particular bell in the convent, these cats would come in to be fed twice a day, and then return to their work of destruction. I suppose that it is called Capo delle Gatte in reference to these cats.”

When we had descended the mountain and were once more on the shore, I observed a number of black and half-black Egyptian sailors, all in rags, who were busily employed in carrying stones to their ships which were anchored in the roads. Their captain looked on, smoking his pipe, and shaded from the sun by a small tent. Stones from the oldest city in Cyprus, going over to Port SaÏd, to help in the construction of the newest town on the opposite continent, near which a harbour is in course of construction, destined to receive the ships coming from every quarter of the globe; whilst here at my feet lay the ancient harbour of Amathus, of which nothing remains but its natural basin, formed by rocks which extend some distance into the sea.