Cyprus: Historical and Descriptive. Franz von Löher
shall I give an idea of the uproar that roused me from my slumbers early next morning? Trumpets were sounding, muezzins were chanting in drawling tones from the tops of all the minarets, countless crows and ravens combined with cocks and hens to outvie in their performance, the braying of asses, and groaning of camels. Whilst over all clanged the bells from every belfry in the city. The following day being Easter-eve, this music commenced at midnight, and continued without interruption till morning, varied, however, by the firing of every old gun that could be mustered for the occasion.
In passing through the streets of the town, I observed through the gates of the high-walled gardens many varieties of fruit trees, apple, pear, and figs; orange, lemon, mulberry, and pomegranate trees also lent their blossoms to give the finishing touches to the scene. The garden walls are high, but not so lofty as to exclude from view the slender white minarets, dark cypresses, and waving palms that they enclose. Half Nikosia is made up of these lovely gardens. Everywhere water-pipes are gently pouring forth their offerings to the thirsty ground, and the whole town is redolent of perfume. The Cyprian sky resembles that of the Nile valley in its cloudless, deep blue, and is equally beautiful in its clear expanse; while as for the climate, a very few days in its soft, delicious, balmy air makes one understand why, of all the Grecian islands, Cyprus should have been allotted the privilege of being regarded as the favorite residence of the Goddess of Love. At first I felt inclined to linger in this lovely spot and make myself acquainted with its literature; but a nearer view showed me my time would not be profitably spent. Society there was none, the few Europeans the city contained being entirely engaged in striving to make a little money.
Domestic life in Cyprus is generally confined within the precincts of its beautiful gardens, and in most of its relations is strictly Turkish. Women of the higher classes in Nikosia wear a delicate white veil and silken garments, instead of the bright blue, yellow, and red veil usually seen in the other towns.
Dr. Clarke, in his “Travels,” says:—“The interesting costume presented in the dress of the Cyprian ladies ought not to pass unnoticed. Their head apparel was precisely modelled after the kind of calathus represented upon the Phœnician idols of the country and Egyptian statues. This was worn by women of all ranks, from the wives of the consuls to their slaves. Their hair, dyed of a fine brown colour by means of a plant called ‘henna,’ hung behind in numerous long straight braids; and, in some ringlets disposed near the face, were fastened blossoms of the jessamine, strung together upon strips of leaves of the palm-tree in a very curious and pleasing manner. Next to the Calmuck women, the Grecians are, of all others, best versed in cosmetic arts. They possess the valuable secret of giving a brown colour to the whitest locks, and also tinge the eyebrows the same hue, an act that would be highly prized in London and Paris. The most splendid colours are displayed in their habits, and these are very becoming to the girls of the island. The upper robe is always of scarlet, crimson, or green silk, embroidered with gold. Like other Greek women, they wear long scarlet pantaloons, fastened round the ankle, and yellow boots, with slippers of the same colour. Around the neck and from the head are suspended a profusion of gold coins, chains, and other trinkets. About their waists they have a large belt, or zone, fastened in front by two large and heavily-polished brass plates. They endeavour to make the waist as long as possible, and their legs consequently short. Naturally corpulent, they take no pains to diminish the size of their bodies by lacing, but seem rather vain of their bulk, exposing their bosoms at the same time in a manner highly unbecoming. Notwithstanding the extraordinary pains they use to disfigure their natural beauty by all manner of ill-selected ornament, the women of Cyprus are handsomer than those of any other Grecian island. They have a taller and more stately figure, and the features, particularly of the women of Nikosia, are regular and dignified, exhibiting that elevated cast of countenance so universally admired in the works of Greek artists. At present this kind of beauty seems peculiar to the women of Cyprus.”
The women of Nikosia walk lightly and gracefully, instead of presenting the appearance, as do many of their country-women, of stuffed sacks rolling along, and unlike most Turkish ladies, can often boast neat and slender figures. In my own opinion the town does not contain more than 12,000 inhabitants, many, however, estimate their number as 18,000.
In former times Nikosia was some miles in circumference and was three times as large as it is now. Ruins of churches and cloisters are to be seen in all directions outside the present town. Of late years the Greek and Turkish inhabitants associate much more freely than formerly. Turkish servants are often met with in Greek houses, and intermarriages are by no means uncommon. The dress of the peasantry is almost Turkish, and pillau, essentially a Turkish dish, is commonly seen on every table in the island. Many of the professed Mussulmans are actually Christians, and have their children baptised in secret. Their forefathers were followers of the Prophet through fear and compulsion, and it would expose any one to much persecution and obloquy, who openly declared that he no longer belonged to that faith.
During the days of Venetian rule, many Italian words became grafted into the language, whilst French, on the contrary, is entirely forgotten in Cyprus. In Nikosia, the Turkish inhabitants pride themselves on the purity with which they speak their own language; indeed, I am informed that nowhere, except in Constantinople, can this be heard in greater perfection. The Grecian population speak Greek. This desire on the part of the Turks to keep their language pure and undefiled, must be regarded as a lingering attempt to preserve the ancient renown and dignity of Nikosia in a time when its homes were palaces, and their inhabitants wealthy and esteemed. Of their ancient mansions but little is now left beyond a few stately ruins. Many of the fine old walls have been broken down within some feet of the ground, and upon them wretched little huts of wood and clay erected to serve as a hasty refuge for some indigent family. If asked why they do not bestow more care upon their houses, the indolent workmen will inform you, that, “it is not worth while to build better on account of the frequent earthquakes.” On these occasions I have often felt tempted to inquire if earthquakes were only known to the modern Cypriotes? The ancient buildings of the island are readily recognised by the large blocks of brown freestone of which the walls are built.
The Cathedral of St. Sophia forms the centre of attraction in Nikosia. This fine edifice is built in the Gothic style, and richly decorated; of this ornamentation, only the carved stone-work remains. The pillared interior of the church is approached from the portico by three arched portals. The walls of this noble building are decorated by whitewash, and, to please the Turkish taste, pillars and capitals are streaked and daubed with red, green, and yellow. Happily the beautiful arched windows are still framed in rich carving. The base of the bell tower is adorned with two unusually high minarets. Close to the cathedral is the Church of St. Nicholas, with its three noble entrance gates; here all the niches are charmingly decorated with a living tracery in the shape of a great variety of stonecrop. The fine interior of this church is now used as a granary. The Archbishop’s Chapel is another interesting building, of which the walls are covered with ancient pictures. The archiepiscopal throne with its gilding and the handsome altar-screen, are but dimly seen in the mellow half light.
As I left the archiepiscopal chapel. I was met by a young priest, who brought me a friendly invitation to take a cup of coffee with the Lord Archbishop. I had so much still to see that I felt compelled to decline this courtesy. The young priest modestly urged that it was the custom for all strangers to pay their respects to his grace, and that I should not willingly be the first to decline. My time only permitted me to make a hurried call, which fact I, however, since, much regretted, as I afterwards found that the head of the Cyprian Church is a worthy and distinguished man, who well deserves his title of μακαριωτατος.
A dignitary of the Greek Church may certainly be considered as much more fortunately situated than any other official in Europe. During his entire life he can mount a perfect Jacob’s ladder of preferments and emoluments, and may don every shade of colour, in robes of black, green, yellow, and red to rich purple; he can also exhibit a variety of crosiers and mitres. The Archbishop of Cyprus, who has now obtained the highest rank, signs his name with red ink, seals with the imperial double-headed eagle, carries a shepherd’s crook, surmounted by a golden orb, and bears a title enumerating his saintly and lordly attributes. The income of this dignitary is derived from two sources—voluntary offerings and tithes, and sums paid for dispensations, marriages, and masses.