On 16 August 1960, preparations were taking place at Government House for the celebration of Cyprus’ Independence.
Sylvia Foot, the last Governor’s wife, was in charge. She described the final result:
at quarter to midnight suddenly all the lights went out. There was complete silence, and then two strong lights moved round to illuminate six magnificent trumpeters flanking the Queen's portrait under the cloisters of the first floor. The sound of their fanfare rang high and clear in the still night air. Then blackout, and the spots rose to the upper floor to reveal on the broad verandah a group of eighty Armenian children who had silently gone up the back stairs and taken their position in the darkness. Their conductor raised his baton and they sang superbly, filling our hearts with excitement. Then blackout again and the spotlights dropped to the centre cloister on the ground level to disclose three immense drummers who gave a long roll of drums. Mac and I moved to a position between them. From the darkness of the top balcony the voices of the Armenian children broke into the National Anthem. They sang it with all their hearts, sang it as we had never heard it sang before. They sang in the darkness above the smiling portrait of the Queen.
The scene was lovely, the women's gowns trailing their beauty of satin and net and brocade and sequins onto the green lawns, the men bedecked in all their finery of decorations. We saw a cheerful group around Archbishop Makarios, and very close below us another group of British military men drinking and laughing with a group of Greeks. I thought of last year. This was real proof that a miracle had indeed taken place.
Image: pht_03123 > Unknown, Government House, black and white photographic postcard, 1934.
© Costas and Rita Severis Foundation
