Devia Cypria: Notes of an Archaeological Journey in Cyprus in 1888 by D.G. Hogarth, H. Frowde, London, 1889.
In 1888, British archaeologist D. G. Hogarth travelled through Cyprus with a dual purpose: to study antiquities and to document the condition of ancient sites across the island. His route took him beyond the main towns into remote villages and landscapes that had rarely been described in detail. “The antiquities of the central districts of Cyprus are too well known to need minute enumeration; a score of travellers have described Idalium, Chytri, Citium, Amathus, Tamassus, Curium, Nicosia, Famagusta, Kyrenia, and all the lesser centres of classical and mediaeval interest in the Mesaorea and the northern and southern hilly belts; and I propose only to collect in this concluding chapter a few disjecta membra from these districts which have escaped notice or been but recently dis-covered.” The result was Devia Cypria, a slim but important volume that remains a unique record of Cyprus during the early years of British rule.
Hogarth’s interest extended far beyond stones and ruins. He paid close attention to the life of the island, observing its people, dialects, customs and landscapes. “Five months of superintendence of large bodies of native diggers had enabled me to acquire not only a tolerable knowledge of the vernacular of the island, but also some experience of native habits and customs, some knowledge of the obscure workings of the peasant's mind, of his grievances, his standards of value, and the degree in which consciously or unconsciously he uses speech to conceal his thoughts.”
His writing balances scholarly intent with sharp, often dryly humorous observations. One example comes from his visit to the Carpas Peninsula, where he notes how contact with the outside world shaped local appearance and language: “[…] Probably this facility of communication with the outer world, coupled with comparative isolation from the rest of Cyprus, has imparted to the peasantry of the Carpass their peculiarly un-Cypriote look: the white skins and frequent fair hair, the beauty of the women, and the use of foreign words such as 'τρέ for τρεῖς, ῥιδάλλα (rix-dollar?) for a coin, suggest that Western influence is here especially present. Elsewhere, his observations turn to the consequences of seclusion in a different region: “The poverty and barbarism of the modern Paphiti are due therefore not to the niggardliness of the soil, but to isolation from those parts of the island where communication is easy, and whither civilisation and commerce have been attracted since the Middle Ages;”
What stays with the reader, however, is not only what Hogarth recorded, but the quiet way he chose to observe. He did not set out to romanticise Cyprus, or craft a grand narrative. Instead, with a steady eye and a mind tuned to the overlooked, he captured details that might have otherwise gone unremarked. His route, which avoided the more frequented paths, gives the book its title: Devia Cypria, or “the byways of Cyprus.”
You can find this book, and many more, in the Research Centre of the CVAR.
The 'Book Of The Month' series is made possible with the support of The Hellenic Initiative Canada.
