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I hardly know who was our greatest favourite. There was "Katterina" (about fourteen) too old to make a pet of, but a gentle-charactered girl, always willing to please and never out of temper, and even in the big, hateful, beauty-destroying, high hob-nailed boots she could run up the mountain soil and clamber like a monkey. Then came, I believe, our best favourite, the bright, large-eyed, sparkling child "Vathoo," who was the real beauty of the family, about ten years old; she was full of life and vigour, a perfect goat upon the mountains, with a most lovely face that would have charmed Murillo as a subject, with an extreme perfection of features, a bronzed complexion, but hardly the soft expression required for a sacred picture; in fact Vathoo was a perfect little gipsy beauty, with perhaps more devil than angel in her impulsive character.
Then came the real gentle little face with gazelle-like eyes, "Baraksu," about eight years old: followed by a minimum shepherdess, "Athena," of nearly five years old, who climbed the rocks, shouted, and threw stones at her refractory flock, as though an experienced goatherd of forty. The youngest was just able to stand; with a pair of the biggest black eyes, and a natural instinct for gorging itself with unripe fruits and hard nuts, which, added to its maternal sustenance that it was still enjoying, proved the mill-like character of its infantine digestion. For two months we thought this young Hercules was a promising boy, until by an accident we discovered it was a "young lady" Linobambaki! When we arrived at Trooditissa these children were in rags and filth, but under the tutelage of my wife they quickly changed, and the never-failing fountain, assisted by a cake of soap supplied occasionally, effected a marked improvement in all complexions.
They were remarkably well-mannered after the first natural shyness had worn away, and formed a contrast to children of a low class in England in never misbehaving when intimate. All these little creatures were employed in cleaning and improving the place; even the minute Athena might be seen carrying a great stone upon her small shoulder, adding her mite to the work, and rubbing the galled spot as she threw down her load. The bright threepenny pieces were in great favour, and the children invariably hastened to their mother with their earnings at the close of the afternoon. When the camp and monastery surroundings were in perfect order there was no longer any remunerative employment for the family, except the uncertain and occasional work of collecting wild flowers for the tent and table. The myrtles bloomed in early July, and in the deep ravine by the waterfall the oleanders were then still in blossom. Several plants which were strange to me were added to the collection; the days were generally passed by the children in minding the numerous goats until the evening, when each child brought some simple offering of flowers. We bought sheep from the low country at about six or seven shillings each, and Vathoo was the special shepherdess of our small flock, for which she was responsible; they were invariably driven out at 4 A.M. and brought home at 8 to avoid the sun, and again taken out from 4 P.M. till 7.
In this simple manner we passed our time at Trooditissa; my amusements were my small garden, writing an account of Cyprus, and strolling over the mountains: the latter occupation being most unprofitable, as I destroyed all my boots upon the horrible surface of loose stones, in which there was little geological interest, as they were all gneiss and syenite, cracked and starred during a process of subaquean cooling. The deplorable aspect of the otherwise beautiful mountains was occasioned by the wholesale and wilful destruction of pine-trees, which is the Cypriote's baneful characteristic, and as this is one of the most important subjects in the modern history of the island, I shall devote the following special chapter entirely to the question of "Woods and Forests."
CHAPTER XIII.
WOODS AND FORESTS.
The climate of Cyprus is extreme in temperature during the months of June, July, August, and until the close of September; throughout the greater portion of the island the treeless surface absorbs the sun's rays, and during the night radiates the heat thus obtained, which raises the thermometer to 90 degrees before sunrise: while at noon it occasionally marks 100 degrees beneath the shade. A treeless country must either be extremely hot or cold, according to the latitude; and without a certain proportion of forest there will be an absence of equilibrium in temperature. Most persons will have observed the effect of heat radiation from rocks, or even from the walls of a building that have been exposed to a summer's sun during the long day. At about six P.M., when the air is cool, the sun-heat stored by absorption escapes from its imprisonment, and thermometers would exhibit a difference of many degrees if placed at two feet from the ground, and at fifty; the rocks and earth have been heated like an oven. Trees will affect the surface of the soil in the same manner that an umbrella protects an individual from the surf, and upon lofty mountains they exercise a marked influence upon the rainfall. Should the summits be naked, the rocks become heated to a high degree, and should clouds pass overhead, the vapour would not condense, but, on the contrary, it might disperse upon contact with the heated surface. If the summits were clothed with forests, the rocks and soil, being shaded from the sun, would remain cool, and the low temperature of earth and foliage would condense the vapour and produce rain. It is well known that trees exert a direct influence upon meteorological phenomena, therefore should forests be totally destroyed, a change may be expected in the temperature, attended by a corresponding decrease in the rainfall. It is obvious that should a country be entirely covered with trees and jungle, it will be too damp and unhealthy for the occupation of man; and should it be absolutely barren of forest, it will possess a minimum rainfall; therefore in all countries that are expected to develop agricultural resources, the due proportions of woods and forests require special attention.
In ancient days there can be no question that Cyprus was rich in timber, and that the mountainous districts were thickly clothed to their summits with valuable wood varying in species according to altitude. At the risk of repetition I must describe the qualities which now exist, and which were no doubt exported from the island, and became widely known and appreciated in the early days of Cyprian prosperity.
Oaks.—There are several varieties of oak, but large park-like timber of this species is exceedingly scarce, and although met with occasionally in grand spreading trees with trunks of large girth, they are only sufficient to prove the destruction that has befallen their race. It is most probable that the oak was largely exported for ship-building; but as an available forest-tree it may be said to have disappeared. The ilex is the most common of all woods upon the Troodos range and upon other mountains, but the natives have made such constant attacks upon this quality for the manufacture of charcoal that it is seldom met with as a forest-tree. It is extremely hardy, and through continual hacking, it has grown into dense bushes which are generally about eight feet high; but in very remote localities among the mountains I have found it in the shape of timber growing to the height of forty feet. There is a third variety with a prickly leaf resembling holly, of an intensely dark green.
Pines.—I have only met with three varieties—the Pinus maritima, Pinus laricio, and the stone pine. The latter is very rare, but may be seen at Platraes. The natives invariably pick the cones of this species when green for the sake of the small edible nuts afforded by the seeds.
The Pinus laricio is a handsome tree with a dark foliage and branches that droop regularly from the summit, widening towards the base. It is difficult to determine the maximum size that would be attained by this species, as the Cypriotes seldom allow any tree to remain uninjured. The usual size of the Laracio on the Troodos range is about fifty feet in height, with a girth of six feet, but I have frequently seen specimens of nine feet in girth, and about seventy to eighty feet in height.
The Pinus maritima has a lighter foliage and the branches are more spreading, but the size is about the same as the Laricio. Both these species are rich in tar and turpentine.
Cypress.—There are two varieties—the dwarf, which covers the flat-topped limestone hills of the Carpas district, and the fragrant species which grows upon the heights of Troodos and all that range which extends to Poli-ton-Krysokhus.
The dwarf-cypress attains a height of about twenty feet, and is exceedingly hard and durable. The fragrant species varies from thirty to thirty-five feet, with a stem of six, to sometimes eight feet in circumference. The wood is highly aromatic; and I have already described it as resembling a mixture of sandal-wood and cedar. This tree is known by the Cypriotes as kypresses, while the dwarf variety is known as the "wild cypress," and is called by them "aoratu."
Plane (Platanus).—This tree is generally found in the ravines among the mountains, on the borders of streams, and would grow to a large size, but its straight young stems are much sought after by the natives for various purposes, and it is seldom allowed a chance of arriving unscathed at maturity. Its light green foliage is highly ornamental, mixed with the dark shades of the ilex in the deep bottoms of the gorges; and wherever a never-failing stream is met with the plane may be expected.
The elm, ash, maple, walnut, mulberry, peach, apricot, apple, pear, filbert, fig, plum, cherry, orange, lemon, pomegranate, are common, but as they do not come within the category of trees indigenous to the natural forests of the island, I shall not include them.
Olive.—The wild olive forms a considerable portion of the low scrub-woods of the Carpas district, and the young trees, when transplanted and grafted, become the accepted olives of cultivation. There is no reason why the wild olive should not be grafted in its natural position the same as the caroub.
Caroub.—This tree has already been described, but although not valuable as timber, owing to the short length of its trunk, it should receive the special attention of the government, as its produce should be extended to the utmost limit of the capabilities of the island. If the wild trees were grafted wherever they are met with, whole forests would quickly be produced with a minimum of labour, and vast tracts of rocky soil, worthless for other cultivation, would be brought into value, at the same time that the surface would be covered with the much desired vegetation.
Tremithia.—The wood of this tree is of no value, but the berries are used as a substitute for olive-oil; as it grows in large quantities as a shrub, simply because it is not allowed the chance of arriving at maturity, it is to be hoped that a few years of forest supervision will add this shady and highly-ornamental tree to the list of those common to the island. The arbutus, myrtle, and the mastic are trees of so small a growth that they cannot be classed with "Woods and Forests."
One of the first acts of the British administration was a stringent prohibition against the felling of any tree throughout Cyprus, or the cutting of any wood for the burning of charcoal. This law for the preservation of woods and forests extended to trees upon PRIVATE PROPERTY OF INDIVIDUALS!—thus the owner of a garden could not cut down one of his own caroub-trees if they were too thickly planted; or if he required a piece of timber for making or repairing his water-wheel. An act for the protection of crown forests was highly necessary, but no laws are of value unless the machinery exists for enforcing them, and at the present moment the stringent enactment against the destruction of trees may be evaded like any of the Ten Commandments, because there is absolutely no staff, nor special officers for the supervision of woods and forests. This important subject requires a separate department, and nothing can be more simple if administered by persons qualified by education for the development of trees suitable to the island. The poverty of the local government, owing to the miserable conditions of our tenure, which send the cream to Turkey, and suckle the necessary staff upon the thin skimmed-milk, does not permit the real improvement of the forests. It is simply ridiculous to make laws without the active weapons to enforce authority; we may as well rest satisfied with the game laws in England and dismiss our keepers, as prohibit the cutting of wood in Cyprus without supervising the forests by a staff of foresters. If the words "Thou shalt not steal," even from a divine command, were sufficient to prevent felony and petty larceny, it would be folly to incur the expense of police; but we know that practically all laws must be upheld by force, represented by the authorised guardians of the state. At this moment in Cyprus the law proclaims, "Thou shalt not cut a tree," while practically you may cut as many as you like in the mountain forests, as there is no person authorised to interfere with your acts. Some miserable offender may be pounced upon in his own garden, near one of the principal towns, where the law SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ENFORCED, as interfering with the individual rights of private property; but in the situations where the prohibition is of the first importance, there is literally not an officer or man to prevent the usual depredations. Why? The answer must be accepted. There is no money, and we cannot afford an independent department of "Woods and Forests." If the country is to continue in this slip-shod form it is a disgrace to England. There is time to save the forests from absolute destruction, and in my own opinion, before anything is done beyond the necessary roads and irrigation loans, every possible attention should be concentrated upon the protection and development of forest-trees.
The position at this moment is as follows. Throughout the entire mountain range there are not 5 per cent. of pines free from mutilation.
The whole of Troodos, and the mountain districts from near Lithrodondo to as far west as Poli-ton-Khrysokus, are naturally adapted for the growth of pines and cypress, which love the soil of the plutonic rocks, and drive their roots deep into the interstices, deriving nourishment where nothing else would thrive. Upon the highest altitudes there is not a dwarf shrub to cover the surface of the loose coffee-coloured rocks, where in the winter the snow accumulates to a depth of twenty feet, yet there we find the pines and cypress in their greatest vigour; but even to these solitary heights the Cypriote has penetrated with his unsparing axe, and has created a desolation that must be seen to be understood. There is no sight so exasperating as this uncalled-for destruction; it is beyond all belief, and when the amount of labour is considered that must have been expended in this indiscriminate attack upon forest-trees THAT ARE LEFT TO ROT UPON THE GROUND where they have fallen, the object of the attack is at first sight inconceivable. The sight of a mountain pine-forest in Cyprus would convey the impression that an enemy who had conquered the country had determined to utterly destroy it, even to the primaeval forests; he had therefore felled, and left to rot, the greater portion of the trees; but finding the labour beyond his means, he had contented himself with barking, ringing, and hacking at the base of the remainder, to ensure their ultimate destruction.
The extreme heights of Troodos, shoulders and head, are about 6300 feet above the sea, from which altitude the pines and cypress descend to within 1500 feet of the level. There are rough native mule-paths throughout the mountains, and the sure-footed animals will carry a man with ease where walking would be most fatiguing, owing to the loose rocks and smaller stones, which cover every inch of the surface. I have walked and ridden over the greater portion, but in all cases I have been overcome with anger and dismay at the terrible exhibition of wanton and unwarrantable desolation. If a hurricane had passed over the country and torn up by the roots nine trees out of every ten that composed the forest, the destruction would be nothing compared to that of the native Cypriote, who mutilates those which he has not felled; the wind would only upturn, but would spare those whose strength had resisted the attack. Magnificent trees lie rotting upon the ground in thousands upon thousands, untouched since the hour when they fell before the most scientifically applied axe. I never saw a higher example of woodcraft. The trunks of pines two feet in diameter are cut so carefully, that the work of the axe is almost as neat as that of a cross-cut saw. These large trees are divided about four feet from the ground, as that is a convenient height for the woodman, and spare his back from stooping to his blow. Each cut with the axe is nearly at a right angle with the stem and so regularly is the cutting conducted completely round the tree, that at length only two, or at the most three inches of wood remain to support the trunk, which in the absence of wind remains balanced to the last moment, until overthrown by the wedge.
Upon first arrival in the country it is difficult to comprehend the reason for this general destruction; but as a gipsy in Turkey will burn down a handsome tree in order to make his wooden spoons, so the Cypriote will fell a large pine for the sake of the base of five or six feet in length that will afford him a wooden trough either for water or to feed his pigs. A great number of the larger trees are cut and partially scooped for four or five feet before their destruction is determined upon, as the carpenter wishes to prove the quality of the heart. Many are rejected, and the operation proceeds no further; but the tree remains mutilated for ever.
Other trees are felled for the purpose of obtaining tar. Before they are absolutely cut down they are tapped by cutting a deep incision nearly into the centre of the heart, like a huge notch, and they are left for a time to prove whether the tar will run, as exhibited by the production of the resin. If unfavourable, the tree is left thus cut to the heart and blemished. Nearly every tree is thus marked. If the signs of tar are propitious, the tree is felled, the branches are lopped, and the trunk cut into sections and split. All pieces are then arranged longitudinally in a rude kiln formed of loose stones and earth, in which they are burned, and the tar as it exudes is led by a narrow gutter formed of clay into the receptacle prepared.
Should a straight pole be required for any special purpose, a large pine is felled, and the tapered, pointed top is cut off to a convenient length, the great spar being rejected and left to decay upon the ground. I have never seen pit-saws used, but as a rule, should a beam or stout plank be required, a whole tree is adzed away to produce it, and great piles of chips are continually met with in the forests, where some large trunk has thus perished under the exhausting process. I was rather surprised, when the military huts were conveyed at an immense expense of transport to the mountain station, that a few pairs of English sawyers had not been employed to cut the inexhaustible supply of seasoned wood now lying uselessly upon the ground, that would have supplied all necessary planks and rafters, &c.
Fires, either accidental or malicious, are not uncommon, and I have seen hill-sides completely destroyed. At a certain season the pines change their foliage and the ground becomes thickly covered to the depth of a couple of inches or more with the dry and highly inflammable spines. Should these take fire, the conflagration in a high wind becomes serious, and spreads to the trees, which perish.
Nothing would be easier than to defend the interests of the woods and forests by an efficient staff of foresters, who should be Highlanders from Scotland accustomed to mountain climbing, or English game-keepers, who would combine the protection of forests with that of game. These men, under the command of a certain number of officers, should be quartered in particular districts, and would quickly acquire a knowledge of the localities. The higher mountains would be their home during the summer months, from which points the sound of an axe could be heard from a great distance, and from the commanding elevation a depredator could be distinctly identified with a good telescope. The Cypriotes are easily governed, and should a few severe examples be made public when the destroyers had been taken in the act, an exceedingly small staff of foresters would be sufficient to insure order and protection.
The pine and cypress are the trees most generally attacked, and, as I have already shown, there is no difficulty whatever in their preservation should the requisite staff of officials be appointed. It should, however, be borne in mind that the preservation of woods and forests is a simple matter compared with the absolute necessity of their extension; it is therefore desirable to examine the capabilities of the island for tree-culture.
When Cyprus was first occupied by British troops the English newspapers were full of superficial advice suggested by numerous well-meaning correspondents who were utterly devoid of practical experience in tree-planting, and a unanimous verdict was given in favour of the Eucalyptus globulus, and other varieties of the same tree, irrespective of all knowledge of localities and soils.
The absence of money would be the only excuse for any delay in experimental tree-culture. The seeds of the eucalyptus were sent out in considerable quantities to the various chief commissioners of districts for cultivation, as though these overworked and ill-paid officers were omniscient, and added the practical knowledge of horticulture to their military qualifications. Every commissioner that I saw had a few old wine or beer cases filled with earth, in which he was endeavouring to produce embryo forests of the varieties of eucalyptus, to be planted out when germinated—how, when, or where, he could not tell. Of course all these attempts ended in failure. There should have been an experienced gardener specially appointed for the purpose of raising and planting out the young trees adapted for the various soils and altitudes of the country, and such trees should have been ready for their positions at the commencement of the winter months in November. The commissioners worked in this new occupation with the same praiseworthy energy that distinguished them throughout all the trying difficulties of their appointment as rulers in a strange country, where, without a knowledge of the language or customs, they were suddenly called upon to confer happiness and contentment upon an oppressed population by administering TURKISH laws in the essence of their integrity.
The Cypriotes had expected to see England and the English as their rulers; but like the well-known saying, "Scratch a Russian and you discover the Tartar," they might have "scratched an Englishman and have found the Turk," in the actual regime that we were bound to maintain according to the conditions of the British occupation.
The native mind could not understand the reason for the stringent rule prohibiting the cutting of trees and they came to the conclusion that our government contemplated some selfish advantage, and that the forests were eventually to be leased to a company. When they shall see tree-planting commenced by the government upon an extensive scale they will believe in the undertaking as intended for the welfare of the island.
Whenever this important and necessary work shall be organised, it is to be hoped that "common sense" will be employed in the selection of trees adapted for the various localities, and that no absurd experiments will be made upon a large scale by introducing varieties foreign to the island until they shall have been tested satisfactorily in botanical nurseries established at various altitudes.
There are various local difficulties that must be considered in addition to soil and climate; the most important is the presence of vast numbers of goats throughout the mountains, that would utterly destroy certain varieties of young plants. There can be no doubt that the climate and soil are specially adapted for the introduction of the common larch, which would grow quickly into value for the much-needed poles for rafters and beams for the flat-topped roofs; but this tree is eagerly devoured by sheep, goats, and cattle, and would be destroyed in its first stage unless protected by fencing. It will be a safe rule to adopt the native trees as a guide to future extension, as the varieties of such classes as are indigenous will assuredly succeed. The two existing pines are shunned by goats even when in their earliest growth, and they are so ineradicable that were the forests spared and allowed to remain without artificial planting, in ten years there would be masses of young trees too thick for the success of timber. The rain, when heavy, washes the fallen cones from the highest points, and as they are carried by the surface water down the steep inclines they hitch among the rocks and take root in every favourable locality. Here we have two native trees that will plant themselves and flourish without expense, invulnerable to the attacks of goats, and only demanding rest and time. On the other hand, they might be planted at regular intervals with so small an outlay that their artificial arrangement would be advisable.
The cypress may be extended in a similar manner.
The presence of several varieties of oak would naturally suggest the introduction of the cork-tree and the species which produces the valonia, which forms an important article of trade, and is largely used in England by the tanner. This cup of the acorn of the Quercus aegilops is extremely rich in tannin, and ranges in price from 20 to 30 pounds sterling per ton delivered in an English port. It is exported largely from the Levant, and there can be little doubt that its introduction to Cyprus would eventually supply a new source of revenue.
The climate and soil of the Troodos mountains would be highly favourable to the cork-tree,* which would after thirty or forty years become extremely valuable. The box might be introduced from the mountains of Spain, also the Spanish chestnut, which for building purposes is invaluable, as not only practically imperishable, but fire-proof. It is not generally known that the wood of the Spanish chestnut is so uninflammable that it requires the aid of other fuel to consume it by fire; it might be used with great advantage in massive logs for upright pillars, to support beams of similar wood in warehouses.
(*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.
The opinions that I personally offer are based upon the assumption that England can never recede from the position she has assumed in Cyprus, which she must continue, for better or for worse, as a point of honour. Any abandonment of the protection we have afforded to the inhabitants would tend to aggravate their position, should they return to the authority of the Porte, and their only hope would lie in the occupation of our empty bed by France, who certainly requires a coaling depot towards the east of the Mediterranean. Should we wash our hands of Cyprus, and evacuate it in a similar manner to Corfu, we should become the laughing-stock of Europe, and no future step taken by England in the form of a "protectorate" would ever be relied upon. Had we retained Corfu to the present moment, no doubt would have existed as to any change in our intentions respecting Cyprus, but the precedent established by our retirement from that grand strategical position has borne its fruit in the want of confidence now felt by all classes in the permanence of our new acquisition.
It will be admitted that a general want of elasticity has succeeded to the first bound of expectation that was raised by the sudden announcement of a British occupation; the government cannot be held responsible for the disappointment of rash adventurers, but their true responsibility commenced when they assumed the charge of the inhabitants of Cyprus. The first year of the new administration has been marked by a minimum rainfall that has caused the destruction of all crops dependent upon the natural water-supply of seasons, and this partial famine of the first year of our occupation is generally regarded as a disaster. Although disastrous, I believe the serious warning will operate with wholesome effect, by opening the eyes of the authorities to the absolute necessity of directing special attention to the requirements of the people, who after centuries of oppression have become apathetic and inert, which unfits them for the spontaneous action that should be exerted against the dangerous exigencies of their climate. The government of Cyprus must be to a certain extent paternal, and the planting of trees that will eventually benefit not only individuals, but the island generally, and ultimately the revenue, should be made compulsory, in proportion to the area of the various holdings, due assistance being accorded to the proprietors by way of loans.
The eucalyptus is suitable for many localities in the lowlands of Larnaca and Famagousta, and it might be profitably introduced throughout such swampy soils as the neighbourhood of Morphu and other similar positions with good sanitary results; but such trees will represent the woods and forests of the low country without a productive income to the population; whereas by an enforced cultivation of fruit-trees upon every holding the island would in a few years become a garden, and the exportation of fruit to Egypt, only thirty hours' distant, would be the commencement of an important trade, alike beneficial to the individual proprietors and to the island generally.
At the present time, and for many years past, Alexandria has been supplied with all fruits from Jaffa, Beyrout, and various ports on the coast of Syria, but there is no reason why Cyprus should not eventually monopolise the trade, if special attention shall be bestowed (by the suggested department of Woods and Forests) upon the qualities and cultivation whenever an arrangement for an extension of planting shall be carried out. I have never seen any fruits of high quality in Cyprus, but they are generally most inferior, owing to the neglect of grafting, and the overcrowding of the trees. The cherries which grow in the villages from 2500 to 4500 feet above the sea are taken down to Limasol and the principal towns for sale, but they are small and tasteless, although red and bright in colour. They grow in large quantities, and are never attacked by birds which render the crop precarious in England, and necessitate the expense of netting; should the best varieties be introduced, every natural advantage exists for their cultivation.
The apricots are not much larger than chestnuts, and would be classed as "wild fruit," from the extreme inferiority of size and flavour; but there is no reason except neglect for the low quality of a delicious species of fruit that seems from the luxuriant growth of the tree to be specially adapted to the soil and climate. It is useless to enumerate the varieties of fruits that are brought to market; all are inferior, excepting grapes and lemons. The productions of the gardens exhibit the miserable position of the island, which emanates from a want of elasticity in a debased and oppressed population too apathetic and hopeless to attempt improvements.
England can change this wretched stagnation by the application of capital, and by encouraging the development of the first necessity, WATER; without which, all attempts at agricultural improvements, and the extension of tree-planting in the low country, would be futile. I shall therefore devote the following chapter to the subject of artificial irrigation, and its results.
CHAPTER XIV.
REMARKS ON IRRIGATION.
The ancient prosperity of Cyprus must have been due to artificial irrigation, which ensured a maximum of production, similar to the inundated lands of Egypt. In the latter country the Nile is a "Salvator Mundi," without which Egypt would be a simple prolongation of the Nubian and Libyan deserts, in the absence of a seasonable rainfall. The difference between the great cereal-producing portion of Cyprus and the Delta of Egypt is, that, although the plain of Messaria has been formed chiefly through the action of the Pedias river and other periodical mountain streams, which have deposited a rich stratum of soil during inundations, the rivers are merely torrents, or simple conduits, which carry off the waters of heavy storms, or intervals of rain, and act as drains in conveying the surplus waters during floods; while at other times they are absolutely dry.
If the Nile were controlled by a series of weirs or dams, with sluices to divert the high waters of the period into natural depressions within the desert, to form reservoirs at high levels for the supply of Egypt in seasons of scarcity, the command of the water-supply would be far preferable to the chances of rain in the most favoured country. Water, like fire, should be the slave of man, to whom it is the first necessity; therefore his first effort in his struggle with the elements should reduce this power to vassalage. There must be no question of supremacy; water must serve mankind.
Many years ago I published, in the Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia, my ideas for the control of the Nile and the submersion of the cataracts by a series of weirs, with water-gates for the facility of navigation; which with certain modifications will some day assuredly be carried out, and will render Egypt the most favoured country of the world, as absolute mistress of the river which is now at the same time a tyrant and a slave. The Pedias of Cyprus may during some terrific rainfall assume proportions that would convey a most erroneous impression to the mind of a stranger, who, upon regarding the boiling torrent overspreading a valley of some miles in width in its impetuous course towards ancient Salamis, might conclude that it was a river of the first importance. The fact is that no RIVER exists in Cyprus: what should be rivers are mere channels, watercourses, brooks, torrents, or any of the multifarious names for stream-beds that may be discovered in an English dictionary. At the same time that the natural channels are dry during the summer months, through the want of power in the water-head to overcome the absorption of the porous soil throughout its course, it must not be forgotten that a certain supply exists at the fountain head, within practicable distance, which might be stored and led from the mountains to the lower lands for the purposes of irrigation. When we reflect that in the proverbially wet climate of England there is a considerable difficulty in assuring a supply of wholesome water, and that the various water companies have made enormous profits, it is not surprising that in a neglected island like Cyprus there should be distress in the absence of abundant rain. The uninitiated in England seldom appreciate the labour and expenditure that has supplied the response to the simple turning of a tap within an ordinary house. If they would follow the artificial stream from the small leaden pipe to the distant reservoir, they would discover that a glen or valley has been walled in by a stupendous dam, which imprisons a hill-rivulet before it can have descended to the impurities of habitations, and that the pressure of waters thus stored at an elevated level forces a supply to a town at a distance of many miles. This same principle might be adopted in numerous localities among the mountains of Cyprus, where the streams are perennial, but are now exhausted by the absorption of the sandy beds before they have time to reach the villages in the lower lands. Iron pipes might be laid to convey a water-supply to certain districts, upon which a rate would be levied per acre and the crops would be ensured.
The government at the present moment obtains a revenue in kind, or in a money valuation of the corn taken at the threshing-floor; thus in the absence of a crop through drought, or other accident, the revenue suffers directly together with the owner: no crop, no revenue. The main strength of a country lies in an annual income free from serious fluctuations, and the extreme instability of Cyprus is the result of the peculiar uncertainty of seasons which is a special feature in its meteorological condition. It is therefore incumbent upon the government, as an act of self-preservation, to take such measures of precaution as will render certain the supply of water, which is all that is required to ensure the average produce of the soil, and thereby to sustain the revenue.
I do not indulge in engineering details, but, from the experience I have gained by a personal examination of the localities, I am convinced that no difficulty whatever exists that would not be overcome with a very moderate outlay. The mountains are admirably situated, with a watershed upon all sides, thus offering the greatest facilities for reservoirs and pipes that would radiate in every direction. This subject will demand a careful inquiry by hydraulic engineers, as it is a special branch of the profession that requires wide experience, and large sums may be fruitlessly expended through ignorance, where a trifling amount well administered might achieve great results.
One of the first necessary steps in an examination of the subterranean water-supply of Cyprus will be "borings" that will test the existence of artesian springs. There are in many portions of the island extensive plateaux at high altitudes that would absorb a considerable rainfall, in addition to a large superficial area of mountains and hills that would exert the requisite pressure to force the water above the surface of a lower level upon boring, should it now lie beneath some impervious stratum. Boring will alone solve this question. Should artesian wells be practicable in certain localities, an immense blessing will be conferred upon the island.
In the meantime the native method already described, of connecting chains of wells from different springs converging to a main channel or subterranean tunnel, is an original form of Cyprian engineering thoroughly understood by the population, which should be strenuously encouraged. It is a common fault among English people to ignore the value of native methods, and to substitute some costly machinery which requires skilled labour and expense in working; this must in time get out of order and necessitate delay and extra outlay in repairs; generally at a period when the machine is most required.
It is a curious fact that the shadoof or lever and bucket worked by hand, which is so generally used throughout Egypt, is unknown in Cyprus, where in many localities it would be easily worked when water is within five to eight feet of the surface. This arrangement only requires a pole of about twenty feet in length supported upon an upright post, so as to play like a pump-handle by the balance of a weight attached to one end to counterbalance the pail of water suspended to a long stick and short rope at the other extremity. In Egypt the weight at the short end is merely a mass of clay tempered with chopped straw beaten together to represent about 150 lbs. or whatever may be required; this adheres, and forms a knob to the end of the lever.
A man holds the long thin stick suspended at the other extremity to which the bucket is attached, and pulls it down hand over hand until the utensil is immersed in the water; when full, it is so nearly counterbalanced by the weight at the end of the lever that a very slight exertion raises it to the desired level, where it is emptied into a receiver. Many years ago, when at Gondokoro, I arranged a double shadoof of parallel levers and two galvanised iron buckets of four gallons each, worked by two men. I timed the labour of this simple machine, and proved that the two men delivered 3600 gallons within an hour. The men exerted themselves to a degree that could not have been continued throughout the day, and the buckets, of English make, were far more capacious than the simple leather stretched upon a hoop of sticks that is used in Egypt; but there is no reason for such inferior adjuncts. It may be safely assumed that with proper appliances the double shadoof, worked by two men, will deliver 2000 gallons an hour for a working day of six active hours, or a total of 12,000 gallons. In Cyprus the wages of a labourer are one shilling a day, therefore the cost of raising 12,000 gallons would be only two shillings, provided the water is only five feet from the surface. There are many portions of the Messaria plain where the water is even nearer, but the shadoof could work profitably at six, and even at eight feet, and it possesses the advantage of such extreme cheapness of original cost that the outlay is insignificant.
Where fuel is expensive, and cattle and human labour cheap, the ancient Egyptian water-wheel will deliver a supply at a cheaper rate than steam. It has the merit of being always ready; there is no delay in lighting fires and getting up the steam; there is no expensive engineer who may be sick or absent when required; but the wheel is turned either by night or day by mules or oxen, driven by a child. Wind vanes might be attached to this principle, and could be connected on favourable occasions.
The peculiarity throughout the lower levels in Cyprus (specially exhibited in the plain of Messaria) of a water-supply within a few feet of the surface, at the same time that the crops may be perishing from drought, is in favour of the general adoption of the Egyptian wheel. Although this simple construction is one of the oldest inventions for raising water, and is generally understood, I may be excused for describing it when upon the important topic of irrigation.
A large pit is sunk to about three feet below the level of the water, and should the earth not be sufficiently tenacious for self-support, the sides are walled with masonry; this pit would usually be about twenty feet long, four feet wide, and twenty feet deep for a first-class wheel. When the wooden wheel of about seventeen feet diameter has been fixed upon its horizontal shaft, it is arranged with a chain of large earthen jars; those of Egypt contain about three gallons each, but the Cyprian pots are very inferior, scarcely exceeding the same number of quarts.
These jars are secured upon a double line of stiff ropes formed in Cyprus of the long twisted wands of myrtle, which are exceedingly tough, and are substitutes for willows in basket-work. When completed, the chain resembles a rope ladder, with the numerous jars sufficiently close together to represent spokes separated by about sixteen inches. This is suspended over the edge of the wheel, and hangs vertically; the lower portion of this necklace-like arrangement being about three feet below the water, or as near the bottom as is possible with safety to the jars.
When the wheel turns the necklace of pots must of necessity obey the movement, and as they dip successively and fill in the deep water, they in turn rise to the surface with the revolutions of the wheel; upon passing the centre they invert, and empty their contents into a large trough connected with a reservoir capable of containing many hundred hogsheads. A circular chain or ladder of twenty feet diameter will contain about twenty jars of three gallons each—equalling a delivery of about two and a half gallons per jar, as there is generally a loss of water during the movement; therefore one complete revolution of the wheel would deliver fifty gallons into the reservoir.
The wheel is turned by a simple contrivance of wooden cogs and drivers, worked by a long revolving lever, to which, for a powerful machine such as I have described, a pair of mules or oxen would be necessary. A child sits upon the pole or lever and keeps the animals to their work.
There is no specified limit to the depth at which this instrument can work, as it must depend upon the length of chain and the number of jars, which of course increase the weight and strain upon the machinery and animals. In Cyprus, where the water is generally near the surface, the advantages are obvious, and I feel convinced that no modern invention is so well adapted for the Cypriote cultivator.
The cost of erection of such a machine complete, together with the sinking of the pit, is calculated, at an average of localities, as 12 pounds; a pair of oxen will cost 10 pounds: thus the water-wheel in working order will amount to 22 pounds. One wheel will irrigate eighty donums, or about forty acres of cereals, but the same instrument would only suffice for about six acres of garden ground, which requires a more constant supply of water. It may therefore be understood that in calculating the power of a water-wheel, various conditions must be considered, and I shall confine myself to the farm, upon which it will be necessary to establish one water-wheel or sakyeeah for every forty acres; this entails a first outlay of eleven shillings per acre; and at once ensures the crop and renders the farmer independent of the seasons. But including the cost of constructing the numerous water-channels of clay to conduct the stream to the desired fields, together with the expense of erecting the reservoirs of masonry upon a sufficient scale, I should raise the original outlay for irrigation by cattle-wheels to 20 shillings per acre (1 pound). This would include the services of a pair of oxen for other work when the sakyeeah should not be required.* (*The wheel I have described is double the power of those in general use in Cyprus, where a single animal works the sakyeeah, and it would irrigate a larger acreage.) According to this calculation, which exceeds by a large margin the figures given to me by several native farmers, the owner of a hundred acres must only expend 100 pounds to ensure his annual crops! To us this appears nothing, but to the Cypriote it is everything. Where is he to obtain one hundred pounds? To him the sum is enormous and overpowering.
In times of scarcity, which unfortunately are the general conditions of the country, owing to the deficiency of rain, the farmer must borrow money not only for the current expenses of his employment, but for the bare sustenance of his family; he has recourse to the usurer, and henceforth becomes his slave. The rate of interest may be anything that can be imagined when extortion acts upon one side while poverty and absolute famine are the petitioners. The farm, together with the stock, are mortgaged, and the expected crops for a stipulated number of seasons are made over to the usurer at a fixed sum per measure of corn, far below the market price. Another bad season adds to the crushing burden, and after a few years, when the unfortunate landowner is completely overwhelmed with debt, perchance one of the happy years arrives when propitious rains in the proper season bring forth the grand cereal-producing power of Cyprus, and the wheat and barley, six feet high, wave over the green surface throughout the island. The yield of one such abundant crop almost releases the debtor from his misery; another year would free him from the usurer; but rarely or never are two favourable seasons consecutive; the abundant harvest is generally followed by several years of drought. This pitiable position may be quickly changed by government assistance without the slightest risk.
The first necessity is capital, and the usurer must disappear from the scene. I do not think that an agricultural bank will be practically worked, as the value of money in the east is above 6 per cent., which is the maximum that the Cyprian cultivator should pay. The government must advance loans for the special erection of water-wheels, or other methods of irrigation, at 6 per cent., taking a mortgage of the land as their security; this loan upon water-works to take precedence of all others. The government can borrow at 4 per cent., and will lend at 6, which is not a bad beginning for a national bank. The water-wheels can be constructed in a few weeks, and their effect would be IMMEDIATE; there would be no doubtful interval of years, but the very first season would leave the cultivator in a position to repay the loan; at the same time, the government would reap the direct benefit of a certain revenue from the irrigated and assured production of the land.
This is no visionary theory; the fact is already patent in the few farms belonging to wealthy land-owners that I have already described, as exhibiting the simple power of a few water-wheels to produce abundance, while upon the margin of such verdant examples the country is absolutely desert, parched and withered by a burning sun, yielding nothing either to the owner or to the revenue, while at the same time the water-supply is only four or five yards beneath the feet of the miserable proprietor, who has neither capital nor power to raise it to the surface.
There is no necessity for the government to embark in any uncertain enterprise, neither should they interfere with the native methods of irrigation; and above all things, no money should leave the island to fill the pockets of English contractors in the purchase of pumps, or other inventions. All that is required by the Cypriote is capital; lend him the money at 6 per cent.: the government will be saved all trouble, and the profit to all parties will be assured. The money expended in the erection of water-wheels or other works will circulate throughout the island in the payment of native labour, and will relieve the wants of many who, in the absence of land, must earn their livelihood by manual labour. "Water!" is the cry throughout this neglected island; it has been the cry in Eastern lands from time immemorial, when in the thirsty desert Moses smote the rock, and the stream gushed forth for multitudes; when Elijah mocked the priests of Baal with, "Call him louder!" in their vain appeal for rain, and the "little cloud, no bigger than a man's hand," rose upon the horizon in answer to his prayer. In the savage tribes of Africa, the "rain-maker" occupies the position of priest and chief. In England, the clergy offer prayers for either rain or for fine weather. In Cyprus the farmer places the small picture of the Virgin upon his field, before which he lights his tapers, which the wind extinguishes; at the same time THE WATER-SUPPLY IS CLOSE BENEATH HIS FEET, and the expenditure of a few pounds sterling would produce a permanent blessing and uninterrupted prosperity by practical common sense and labour, without any miraculous interposition in his behalf.
There are few countries where such facilities exist for irrigation, and the work should be commenced without delay. Should next year be one of drought like the spring of 1879, the greatest misery will befall the population; there is already sufficient disappointment in the want of progress since the British occupation, and the feeling will be intensified should the assistance of government be withheld in this crying necessity of artificial irrigation.
The Cypriote well-sinker is wonderfully clever in discovering springs, and I have already described the method of multiplying the water-power of one source by securing and concentrating the neighbouring sources. This work only requires money, and the inhabitants, without further assistance than loans secured by a water-rate upon the district, will rapidly develop the natural supply. There should be a special commission appointed, in each of the six districts of Cyprus, to investigate and report officially upon this subject. In forming the commission, care should be taken that the native element should predominate, and that no enthusiastic English engineer, blooming with new schemes, should thrust into shadow the Cyprian intelligence upon the working of their own systems. If I were an English engineer employed in any work, I should probably have the natural failing of enforcing my own opinions; but from many years' experience I have come to the conclusion that the inhabitants of a country are generally better qualified than strangers for giving practical opinions upon their own locations. There is plenty of intelligence in Cyprus; the people are not savages, but their fault is poverty, the natural inheritance of Turkish rule; and we, the English, have the power to make them rich, and to restore the ancient importance of the island. In England, at the time that I am writing, money is not worth 2 per cent. owing to the general depression of trade; the money-market has been in this plethoric or dropsical state for the last three years, and there appears to be no hope upon the commercial horizon of a favourable change. In Cyprus the resources are great, but the capital is wanting, and the strange anomaly is presented that the exchange of the British for the Turkish flag has not increased public confidence. Something must be done to change the present stupor; if Cypriotes were Candians (Cretans) their voices would be forcibly heard, and the Turkish rule beneath the British uniform would be quickly overthrown. The Cypriote, down-trodden for centuries, is like sodden tinder that will not awaken to the spark: he is what is called "easily governed;" which means an abject race, in which all noble aspirations have been stamped out by years of unremitting oppression and injustice; still, like the Cyprian ox, he ploughs the ground. It is the earth alone that yields the world's wealth: if we have no other thoughts but avarice, let us treat the Cypriote as we should his animal, and make him a wealth-producer. England has acquired the reputation of the civiliser of the world; it is in this character that we were expected to effect a magic change in the position of Cyprus; instead of which we have hitherto presented a miserable result of half-measures, where irresolution has reduced the brilliant picture of our widely-trumpeted political surprise to a dull "arrangement in whitey-brown" . . . which is the pervading tint of the Cyprian surface in the absence of artificial irrigation.
CHAPTER XV.
LIFE AT THE MONASTERY OF TROODITISSA.
The life at our quiet camp at Trooditissa was a complete calm: there could not be a more secluded spot, as no human habitation was near, except the invisible village of Phyni two miles deep beneath, at the mountain's base. The good old monk Neophitos knitted, and taught his boys always in the same daily spot: the swallows built their nests under the eaves of the monastery roof and beneath the arch which covered in the spring, and sat in domestic flocks upon the over-hanging boughs within a few feet of our breakfast-table, when their young could fly. Nightingales sang before sunset, and birds of many varieties occupied the great walnut-tree above our camp, and made the early morning cheerful with a chorus of different songs. There was no change from day to day, except in the progress of the gardens; the plums grew large: the mulberries ripened in the last week of July, and the shepherd's pretty children and the monastery boys were covered with red stains, as though from a battlefield, as they descended from the attractive boughs. It was a very peaceful existence, and I shall often look back with pleasure to our hermitage by the walls of the old monastery, which afforded a moral haven from all the storms and troubles that embitter life. On Sundays we sent a messenger for the post to the military camp at Troodos, about five and a half miles distant, and the arrival of letters and newspapers restored us for a couple of days to the outer world: after which we relapsed once more into the local quiescent state of complete rest. It must not be supposed that we were idle; there were always occupations which by degrees I hope improved the place, and to a certain degree the people. Occasionally I asked the old monks to sit and smoke their cigarettes in our "rachkooba," when they sipped their hot coffee, and explained difficult theological questions to my intense edification; of course I always listened, but never argued. My particular friend old Neophitos treated me to long stories which he imagined must be new and interesting, especially the history of Joseph and his brethren, which he several times recounted from beginning to end with tears of sympathy in his eyes at Joseph's love for the youngest brother Benjamin. The Garden of Eden, the Deluge, including the account of Noah's Ark, and several equally modern and entertaining stories, I always listened to with commendable attention. Yet even in this solitude, where the chapel-bell on Saturday night, and at daybreak upon Sunday mornings, was in harmony with the external peaceful surroundings, and it appeared as though discord could never enter the walls of Trooditissa, the old monks had their cares and difficulties.
The principal cause of trouble was "servants!" I was quite surprised, as I thought we were nearer heaven in this spot than in any earthly locality I had ever visited; but even here the question of "servants" was an irritation to the nerves of the patient monks. My own servants were excellent, and never quarrelled or complained; they appeared to have been mesmerised by the placid character of their position, and to have become angelic; especially in not fatiguing themselves through over-exertion. With the monks the case was different. In this quiet retreat, where man reigned alone, as Adam in the Garden of Eden; where the cares and anxieties of married life were unknown within the sacred walls of celibacy, a single representative of the other sex existed in the ubiquitous shape of a "maid of all work;" and as Eve caused the first trouble in the world, so the monastery "maid" disturbed the otherwise peaceful existence of Neophitos.
This maid's name was "Christina," and she received the munificent sum of one hundred piastres per annum as wages, which in English money would be fifteen shillings and sixpence every year. The world is full of ingratitude, and strange to say, Christina was dissatisfied, which naturally wounded the feelings of the good monks, as in addition to this large sum of money she received her food and clothes; the latter consisting of full trousers, and a confusion of light material, which, having no shape whatever, I could not describe. Christina, though young, was not pretty, and she was always either crying or scolding, which would of course spoil any beauty; while at the same time she was either washing all the clothes belonging to the whole establishment of monks (a very disagreeable business), or hanging them out to dry near the spring; or she was sweeping the monastery; or arranging the very dirty rooms of the establishment; or baking all the bread that was required; or cooking the dinner; or repairing all the old clothes which the monks wore when they were only fit for a paper-mill. As there was no special accommodation in the shape of a laundry, Christina had to collect sticks, and make a huge fire beneath a copper cauldron in the open air, into which she plunged all the different vestments of the monks and priests, and stewed them before washing. This was a Cyprian "maid of all work," whose gross ingratitude troubled the minds of her "pastors and masters;" and one day a peculiar mental disturbance pervaded the whole priestly establishment and caused a monasterial commotion, as, after a violent fit of temper attended by crying, Christina had declared solemnly that she "would stand it no longer," and "she wished TO BETTER HERSELF!"
Whenever there was a difficulty the monks came to me; why, I cannot imagine. If the shepherd's goats invaded their gardens and destroyed the onions and the beet-root crops, they applied to me. Of course I advised them to "fence their gardens," and they went away satisfied, but did not carry out the suggestion so in due time their crops were devoured. They now told me that THEY ALWAYS HAD DIFFICULTY WITH WOMEN! This new theory startled me almost as much as the novelty of the old monks' stories. They explained that YOUNG WOMEN WOULDN'T WORK, AND OLD WOMEN COULDN'T WORK. It had not occurred to them that a middle-aged woman might have combined all that they desired. Knowing their strict moral principles, I had suggested an "old woman" as the successor of Christina; as I explained to them that, to be in harmony with the establishment, a woman of a "certain age" as general servant would not detract from the religious character of the place. However I might argue, the old monk hesitated; but while the monk wavered, Christina's "monkey was up," and, taking her child in her arms, she started off without giving a "month's notice," and fairly left the monastery, with monks, priests, deacons, servants and the dogs all aghast and barking. There was nobody to wash the linen, to bake the bread, to sweep the rooms, to cook the dinner, to mend the clothes! Christina was gone, and the gentle sex was no longer represented in the monastery of Trooditissa.
I was sorry for Christina, but I was glad the child was gone; although I pitied the poor abandoned and neglected little creature with all my heart. As a rule, "maids of all work" should not be mothers, but if they are, they should endeavour to care for the unfortunate child. This wretched little thing was about two years old—a girl; its eyes were nearly closed with inflammation caused by dirt and neglect; it was naked, with the exception of a filthy rag that hung in tatters scarcely below its hips; and as its ill-tempered and over-worked mother alternately raved, or cried, the child, which even at this age depended mainly upon her nursing for its food, joined in a perpetual yell, which at length terminated in a faint and wearied moan, until it laid itself down upon the bare, hard stones, and fell asleep. It was a sad picture of neglect and misery; the shepherd's pretty children shunned it, and in its abandoned solitude the little creature had to amuse itself. The face looked like that of an old careworn person who had lost all pleasure in the world, and the child wandered about alone and uncared for; its only plaything was my good-tempered dog Wise, who allowed himself to be pulled about and teased in the most patient manner. I cured the child's eyes after some days' attention, and my wife had it washed, and made it decent clothes. This little unusual care, with a few kind words in a strange language only interpreted by a smile, attracted the poor thing to the tent, where it would sit for hours, until it at length found solace in the child's great refuge, sleep. It would always follow Lady Baker to and fro along the only level walk we had, from the tent to the running spring, and would sit down by her side directly she arrived at our favourite seat—a large flat rock looking down upon a precipitous descent to the ravine some 500 feet below, and commanding a view of the low country and the distant sea. It was an obstinate and perverse little creature, and it insisted upon climbing upon rocks and standing upon the extreme edge overhanging a precipice. If it had been the loved and only offspring of fond parents, heiress to a large estate, it would of course have tumbled over, in the absence of nurses and a throng of careful attendants, but never having been cared for since its birth, it possessed an instinctive knowledge of self-preservation, and declined to relieve its mother of an extra anxiety. It was an agreeable change to lose the sound of a child's constant wailing, and I suggested to the monks that its presence was hardly in accordance with the severe aspect of the establishment. There was some mystery connected with it of which I am still ignorant, as I never ask questions; but it is at the least ill-judged and thoughtless on the part of "maids of all work" to engage themselves to any situation where the kissing of a rock, or a holy effigy, may lead to complications. It was of no use to moralise; Christina was gone, together with the child; there was absolute quiet in the monastery; neither the scolding of the mother, nor the crying of an infant, was heard. The monks looked more austere than ever, and remained in unwashed linen, until they at length succeeded in engaging a charming substitute in a middle-aged maid of all work of seventy-five!
About the 20th July the swallows disappeared, and I have no idea to what portion of the world they would migrate at this season. In the low country the heat is excessive, and even at the altitude of Trooditissa the average, since the 1st of the month, had been at 7 A.M. 70.7 degrees—3 P.M. 77.3 degrees.
The birds that had sung so cheerfully upon our arrival had become silent. There was a general absence of the feathered tribe, but occasionally a considerable number of hoopoes and jays had appeared for a few days, and had again departed, as though changing their migrations, and resting for a time upon the cool mountains.
I frequently rambled among the highest summits with my dogs, but there was a distressing and unaccountable absence of game; in addition to which there was no scent, as the barren rocks were heated in the sun like bricks taken from the kiln. The under-growth up to 4500 feet afforded both food and covert for hares, but they were very scarce. A peculiar species of dwarf prickly broom covers the ground in some places, and the young shoots are eagerly devoured by goats; this spreads horizontally, and grows in such dense masses about one foot from the surface that it will support the weight of a man.
When grubbed up by the root it forms an impervious mat about three or four feet in diameter, and supplies an excellent door to the entrance of a garden, to prevent the incursions of goats or fowls. The Berberris grew in large quantities, which, together with the foliage of the dwarf ilex, is the goat's favourite food. Not far from the village of Prodomos, upon the neighbouring heights, I found, for the first time in Cyprus, the juniper, which appeared to be kept low by the constant grazing of the numerous herds.
The walking over the mountains is most fatiguing, and utterly destructive to boots, owing to the interminable masses of sharp rocks and stones of all sizes, which quite destroy the pleasure of a lengthened stroll. The views from the various elevated ridges are exceedingly beautiful, and exhibit the numerous villages surrounded by vineyards snugly clustered in obscure dells among the mountains at great elevations above the sea. Prodomos is about 4300 feet above the level, and can be easily distinguished by the foliage of numerous spreading walnut-trees and the large amount of cultivation by which it is surrounded.
There was no difficulty in gaining the highest point of the island from our camp, as a zigzag rocky path led to the top of a ridge about 600 feet directly above the monastery, which ascended with varying inclinations to the summit of Troodos, about 2100 feet above Trooditissa; by the maps 6590 feet above the sea, but hardly so much by recent measurement.
The moufflon, or wild sheep, exists in Cyprus, but in the absence of protection they have been harassed at all seasons by the natives, who have no idea of sparing animals during the breeding season. The present government have protected them by a total prohibition, under a penalty of ten pounds to be inflicted upon any person discovered in killing them. In the absence of all keepers or guardians of the forests, it would be difficult to prove a case, and I have no doubt that the natives still attempt the sport, although from the extreme wariness of the animals they are most difficult to approach. The authorities should employ some dependable sportsman to shoot a certain number of rams which are now in undue proportion, as the ewes with young lambs have been an easier prey to the unsparing Cypriotes.
Absurd opinions have been expressed concerning the numbers of moufflon now remaining upon the island, and it would be quite impossible to venture upon a conjecture, as there is a very large area of the mountains perfectly wild and unoccupied to the west of Kyka monastery, extending to Poli-ton-Khrysokus, upon which the animals are said to be tolerably numerous. There are some upon the Troodos range, but from all accounts they do not exceed fifteen.
On 2nd July I started at 4 A.M. with a shepherd lad for the highest point of Troodos, hoping by walking carefully to see moufflon among some of the numerous ravines near the summit, which are seldom invaded by the flocks of goats and their attendants. I took a small rifle with me as a companion which is seldom absent in my walks, and although I should have rigidly respected the government prohibition in the case of ewes, or even of rams at a long shot that might have been uncertain and hazardous, I should at the same time have regarded a moufflon with good horns at a range under 150 yards, in the Abrahamic light of "a ram caught in a thicket" that had been placed in my way for the purpose of affording me a specimen.
On arrival at the top of the ridge above the monastery the view was superb. We looked down a couple of thousand feet into deep and narrow valleys rich in vineyards; the mountains rose in dark masses upon the western side, covered with pine forests, which at this distance did not exhibit the mutilations of the axe. At this early hour the sea was blue and clear, as the sun had not yet heated the air and produced the usual haze which destroys the distant views: and the tops of the lower mountains above Omodos and Chilani appeared almost close beneath upon the south, their vine-covered surface producing a rich contrast to the glaring white marls that were cleared for next year's planting. The top of Troodos was not visible, as we continued the ascent along the ridge, with the great depths of ravines and pine-covered steeps upon either side, but several imposing heights in front, and upon the right, seemed to closely rival the true highest point.
As we ascended, the surface vegetation became scanty; the rocks in many places had been thickly clothed with the common fern growing in dense masses from the soil among the interstices; the white cistus and the purple variety had formed a gummy bed of plants which, together with several aromatic herbs, emitted a peculiar perfume in the cool morning air. These now gave place to the hardy berberris which grew in thick prickly bushes at long intervals, leaving a bare surface of rocks between them devoid of vegetation. There was little of geological interest; gneiss and syenite predominated, with extremely large crystals of hornblende in the latter rock, that would have afforded handsome slabs had not the prevailing defect throughout Cyprus rendered all blocks imperfect through innumerable cracks and fissures. A peculiar greenish and greasy-looking rock resembling soapstone was occasionally met with in veins, and upon close examination I discovered it to be the base of asbestos. The surface of this green substance was like polished horn, which gradually became fibrous, and in some specimens developed towards the extremity into the true white hairy condition of the well-known mineral cotton.
We were near the summit of the mountain, and arrived at an ancient camp that had been arranged with considerable judgment by a series of stone walls with flanking defences for the protection of each front. This was many centuries ago the summer retreat of the Venetian government, and it had formed a sanatorium. This extends to the summit of the mountain, where fragments of tiles denote the former existence of houses. In the absence of water it would have been impossible to adopt the usual custom of mud-covered roofs, therefore tiles had been carried from the low country. It is supposed that the stations fell into decay at about the period of the Turkish conquest.
A rattle of loose stones upon the opposite side of a ravine suddenly attracted my attention; and two moving objects at about 230 yards halted, and faced us in the usual manner of inquiry when wild animals are disturbed to windward of their enemy. The rocks were bare, and their cafe-au-lait colour exactly harmonised with that of the two moufflon, which I now made out to be fine rams with large and peculiar heads. Motioning to my shepherd lad to sit quietly upon the ground, upon which I was already stretched, I examined them carefully with my glass. Had they not been moving when first observed I should not have discovered them, so precisely did their skins match the rocky surface of the steep inclination upon which they stood. They remained still for about two minutes, affording me an excellent opportunity of examination. The horns were thick, and rose from the base like those of the ibex, turning backwards, but they twisted forward from the first bend, and the points came round towards the front in the ordinary manner of the sheep. Like all the wild sheep of India and other countries, the coat was devoid of wool, but appeared to be a perfectly smooth surface of dense texture. It was too far for a certain shot, especially as the animals were facing me, which is always an unsatisfactory position even when at a close range.
I put up the 200 yards sight, and raised the rifle to my shoulder, merely to try the view; but when sighted I could not clearly distinguish the animal from the rocks, and I would not fire to wound. My shepherd lad at this moment drew his whistle, and, without orders, began to pipe in a wild fashion, which he subsequently informed me should have induced the moufflon to come forward towards the sound; instead of which, they cantered off, then stopped again, as we had the wind, and at length they disappeared among the rocks and pines. It would be almost impossible to obtain a shot at these wary creatures by approaching from below, as they are generally upon high positions from which they look down for expected enemies, and the noise of the loose rocks beneath the feet of a man walking up the mountains would be sure to attract attention. The only chance of success would be to pass the night on the summit of Troodos, and at daybreak to work downwards.
I made a long circuit in the hope of again meeting the two rams, during which I found many fresh tracks of the past night, but nothing more.
The summit of the mountain was disappointing, as the haze occasioned by the heat in the low country obscured the distant view. It was 8.10. A.M., and the air was still deliciously cool and fresh upon the highest point of Cyprus, which affords a complete panorama that in the month of October or during early spring must be very beautiful. Even now I could distinguish Larnaca, Limasol, Morphu, all in opposite directions, in addition to the sea surrounding the island upon every point except the east. The lofty coast of Caramania, which had formed a prominent object in the landscape when at Kyrenia, was now unfortunately hidden within the haze.
From this elevated position I could faintly hear the military band practising at the camp of the 20th Regiment, invisible, about a mile distant among the pine-forests, at a lower level of 700 feet. There were no trees upon the rounded knoll which forms the highest point of Cyprus: these must have been cleared away and rooted out when the ancient camp was formed, and the pines have not re-grown, for the simple reason that no higher ground exists from which the rains could have washed the cones to root upon a lower level.
I now examined every ravine with the greatest caution in the hopes of meeting either the two rams, or other moufflon, but I only came across a solitary ewe with a lamb about four months old; which I saw twice during my walk round the mountain tops. Upon arriving during my descent at the highest spring of Troodos, where the cold water dripped into a narrow stream bed, I lay down beneath a fine shady cypress, and having eaten two hard-boiled eggs and drunk a cupful of the pure icy water mixed with a tinge of Geneva from my flask, I watched till after noon in the hope that my two rams might arrive to drink. Nothing came except a few tame goats without a goatherd; therefore I descended the abominable stones which rattled down the mountain side, and by the time that I arrived at our camp at Trooditissa, my best shooting boots of quagga hide, that were as dear to me as my rifle, were almost cut to pieces.
There was a terrible picture of destruction throughout the forests of Troodos. Near the summit, the pines and cypress were of large growth, but excepting the cypress, there were scarcely any trees unscathed, and the ground was covered by magnificent spars that were felled only to rot upon the surface.
I was not sorry to arrive at the shepherd's hut upon the ridge overhanging the monastery upon my return. The good wife was as usual busy in making cheeses from the goat's milk, which is a very important occupation throughout Cyprus. The curd was pressed into tiny baskets made of myrtle wands, which produced a cheese not quite so large as a man's fist. I think these dry and tasteless productions of the original Cyprian dairy uneatable, unless grated when old and hard; but among the natives they are highly esteemed, and form a considerable article of trade and export. Cesnola mentions that 2,000,000 (two million) cheeses per annum are made in Cyprus of this small kind, which weigh from half a pound to three-quarters. I have frequently met droves of donkeys heavily laden with panniers filled with these small cheeses, which, although representing important numbers, become insignificant when computed by weight.
During our stay at Trooditissa we occasionally obtained eels from a man who caught them in the stream at the base of the mountains; this is the only fresh-water fish in Cyprus that is indigenous. Some persons have averred that the gold-fish dates its origin from this island; this is a mistake, as it is not found elsewhere than in ornamental ponds and cisterns in the principal towns. It is most probable that it was introduced by the Venetians who traded with the far East, and it may have arrived from China.
The streams below the mountains contain numerous crabs of a small species seldom larger than two inches and a half across the shell, to a maximum of three inches; these are in season until the middle of June, after which they become light and empty. When alive they are a brownish green, but when boiled they are the colour of the ordinary crab, and are exceedingly full in flesh, and delicate. The shell is extremely hard compared to the small size, and the claws must be broken by a sharp blow with the back of a knife upon a block.
We frequently had them first boiled and then pounded in a mortar to a paste, then mixed with boiling water and strained through a sieve; after which cream should be added, together with the required seasonings for a soup. I imagine that the common green crabs of the English coasts, which are caught in such numbers and thrown away by the fishermen, would be almost as good if treated in the same manner for potage.
The calm monotony of a life at Trooditissa was disturbed every now and then at distant intervals by trifling events which only served to prove that peculiar characters existed in the otherwise heavenly atmosphere which showed our connection with the world below.
One night a burglar attempted an entrance; but the man (who was a carpenter) having been previously suspected, was watched, and having been seen in the middle of the night to place a ladder against the outer gallery, by which he ascended, and with false keys opened a door that led to the store-room of the monastery, he was suddenly pounced upon by two strong young priests and fairly captured. On the following morning the monks applied to me, and as usual I vainly pleaded my unofficial position. I was either to do or to say something. If the man was sent to Limasol, thirty-five miles distant, the monks would have the trouble and expense of appearing as prosecutors; the robber would be imprisoned for perhaps a couple of years, during which his family would starve. I could offer no advice. I simply told them that if any robber should attempt to enter my tent I should not send him to Limasol, but I should endeavour to make the tent so disagreeable to him that he would never be tempted to revisit the premises from the attraction of pleasing associations. I explained to the monks that although a severe thrashing with stout mulberry sticks would, if laid on by two stout fellows, have a most beneficial effect upon the burglar, and save all the trouble of a reference to Limasol, at the same time that the innocent wife and family would not be thrown upon their relatives, they must not accept my views of punishment as any suggestion under the present circumstances.
About half an hour after this conversation I heard a sound of well-inflicted blows, accompanied by cries which certainly denoted a disagreeable physical sensation, within the courtyard of the monastery, and to my astonishment I found that my interpreter and willing cook Christo had volunteered as one of the executioners, and the burglar, having been severely thrashed, was turned out of the monastery and thrust down the path towards the depths of Phyni. Christo was a very good fellow, and he sometimes reminded me of a terrier ready to obey or take a hint from his master upon any active subject, while at others, in his calmer moments, he resembled King Henry's knights, who interpreted their monarch's wishes respecting Thomas a-Becket.
On 6th June we had been somewhat startled by the sudden appearance in the afternoon of a man perfectly naked, who marched down the approach from the spring and entered the monastery-yard in a dignified and stage-like attitude as though he had the sole right of entree. At first sight I thought he was mad, but on reference to the monks I discovered he was perfectly sane. It appeared that he was a Greek about forty-five years of age, who was a native of Kyrenia, and for some offence twenty years ago he had been ordered by the priests to do penance in this extraordinary manner. His body, originally white, had become quite as brown as that of an Arab of the desert; he possessed no clothing nor property of any kind, not even a blanket during winter; but he wandered about the mountains and visited monasteries and certain villages, where he obtained food as charity. He would never accept money (probably from the absence of pockets), neither would he venture near Turkish villages, as he had several times received a thrashing from the men for thus presenting himself before their women, and it is to be regretted that the Cypriotes had not followed the Turkish example, which would have quickly cured his eccentricity. He was a strong, well-built man, with good muscular development; his head was bald with the exception of a little hair upon either side, and he was interesting to a certain extent as an example of what a European can endure when totally exposed to the sun and weather. Sometimes he slept like a wild animal beneath a rock among the mountains, or in a cave, when such a luxurious retreat might offer a refuge; at other times he was received and sheltered by the priests or people. This individual's name was Christodilos, and according to my notes taken at the time, he is described as "originally a labourer of Kyrenia; parents dead: one brother and two sisters living."
CHAPTER XVI.
SOMETHING ABOUT TAXATION.
The monastery gardens of Trooditissa at the close of July exhibited the great fruit-producing power of the soil and climate at this high altitude, but at the same time they were examples of the arbitrary and vexatious system of Turkish taxation, which remains unchanged and is still enforced by the British authorities. I shall describe this in detail, and leave the question of possibility of development under such wholesale tyranny to the judgment of the public. It is difficult to conceive how any persons can expect that Europeans, especially Englishmen, will become landowners and settle in Cyprus when subjected to such unfair and irritating restrictions.
NO PRODUCE CAN BE REMOVED FROM ANY GARDEN UNTIL IT SHALL HAVE BEEN VALUED FOR TAXATION BY THE GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL APPOINTED FOR THAT PURPOSE, at the rate of 10 per cent. ad valorem.
At first sight this system appears incredible, but upon an examination of the details our wonder ceases at the general absence of cultivated vegetables and the propagation of superior qualities of fruits. If the object of the government were purposely to repress all horticultural enterprise, and to drive the inhabitants to the Nebuchadnezzar-like grazing upon wild herbs, the present system would assuredly accomplish the baneful end. The Cypriotes are called indolent, and are blamed by travellers for their apathy in contenting themselves with wild vegetables, when their soil is eminently adapted in the varying altitudes and climates for the production of the finest qualities of fruits and green-stuffs. I will imagine that an Englishman of any class may be placed in the following position of a cultivator, which he assuredly would be, if foolish enough to become a proprietor in Cyprus.
I am at this moment looking down from the shade of the great walnut-tree upon the terraced gardens and orchards beneath, which are rich in potatoes of excellent quality, onions, beet-root, &c.; together with walnuts, pears, apples, plums, filberts, figs, and mulberries. The pears and plums are of several varieties, some will ripen late, others are now fit to gather, but nothing can be touched until the valuer shall arrive; he is expected in ten days; by which time many of the plums will have fallen to the ground, and the swarming rats will have eaten half the pears. The shepherds' children and the various monastery boys live in the boughs like monkeys, and devour the fruit ripe or unripe, from morning till evening, with extraordinary impunity; women who arrive from the low country with children to be christened place them upon the ground, and climb the pear-trees; neither colic nor cholera is known in this sanctified locality. The natives of the low country who arrive at the monastery daily with their laden mules from villages upon the other side of the mountains, en route to Limasol, immediately ascend the attractive trees and feast upon the plums; at the same time they fill their handkerchiefs and pockets with pears, &c., as food during their return journey. "There will not be much trouble for the valuer when he arrives," I remarked to the monks, "if you allow such wholesale robbery of your orchards."
"On the contrary," they replied, "the difficulty will be increased; we never sell the produce of the gardens, which is kept for the support of all those who visit us, but we have much trouble with the valuation of the fruits for taxation. It is hard that we shall have to pay for what the public consume at our expense, but it will be thus arranged. . . . The valuer will arrive, and he will find some trees laden with unripe fruit, others that have been stripped by plunder; the potatoes, &c., will be still in the ground. We shall have a person to represent our interests in the valuation as a check upon the official; but in the end he will have his own way. We shall explain that certain trees are naked, as the fruit became ripe and was stolen by the boys. 'Then you ought to have taken more care of it,' he will reply; 'how many okes of plums were there upon those trees?' We shall have to guess the amount. 'Nonsense!' he will exclaim to whatever figure we may mention, 'there must have been double that quantity: I shall write down 1500 (if we declared 1000), which will split the difference.' ("Splitting the difference" is the usual method of arranging an Oriental dispute, as instanced by Solomon's well-known suggestion of dividing the baby.).
"We shall protest," continued the monks, "and this kind of inquisitorial haggling will take place concerning every tree, until the valuer shall have concluded his labour, and about one-third more than the actual produce of the orchards will have been booked against us; upon which we must pay a tax of 10 per cent., at the same time that the risks of insects, rats, and the expenses of gathering remain to the debit of the garden. In fact," said the poor old monks, "our produce is a trouble to us, as personally we derive no benefit; the public eat the fruit, and the government eats the taxes."
There were curious distinctions and exceptions in this arbitrary form of taxation: if a fruit-tree grew within the monastery courtyard it was exempt; thus the great walnut-tree beneath which we camped was free. It was really cheering to find that we were living under some object that was not taxed in Cyprus; but the monk continued, and somewhat dispelled the illusion . . . "This tree produced in one year 20,000 walnuts, and it averages from 12,000 to 15,000; but when the crops of our other trees are estimated, the official valuer always insists upon a false maximum, so as to include the crop of the courtyard walnut in the total amount for taxation."
The potatoes, like all other horticultural productions, are valued while growing, and the same system of extravagant estimate is pursued.
This system is a blight of the gravest character upon the local industry of the inhabitants, and it is a suicidal and unstatesmanlike policy that crushes and extinguishes all enterprise. What Englishman would submit to such a prying and humiliating position? And still it is expected that the resources of the island will be developed by British capital! The great want for the supply of the principal towns is market-gardens. Imagine an English practical market-gardener, fresh from the ten-mile radius of Covent Garden, where despatch and promptitude mean fortune and success: he could not cut his cauliflowers in Cyprus until his crop of unblown plants had been valued by an official and while he might be waiting for this well-hated spirit of evil, his cauliflower-heads would have expanded into coral-like projections and have become utterly valueless except for pig-feeding. I cannot conceive a more extravagant instance of oppression than this system of taxation, which throws enormous powers of extortion into the hands of the official valuer. This person can oppose by delays and superlative estimates the vital interests of the proprietors; if the property is large, the owner will be only too glad to silence his opposition by a considerable bribe; the poor must alike contribute, or submit to be the victim of delays which, with perishable articles such as vegetables, represent his ruin. Is it surprising that the villages of the desolate plain of Messaria are for the most part devoid of fruit-trees? We are preaching to the Cypriotes the advantage of planting around their dwellings, as though they were such idiots as to be ignorant that "he who sows the wind will reap the whirlwind." If they plant fruit-trees under the present laws they are planting curses which will entail the misery of inquisitorial visits and the most objectionable and oppressive form of an unjust taxation. As the law at present stands, the amount of fruit is ridiculously small, and the quality inferior, while cultivated vegetables are difficult to obtain. Can any other result be expected under the paralysing effect of Turkish laws? which unfortunately British officials have the questionable honour of administering. |
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