In 1890 William Hurrell Mallock, an English novelist, visited St Hilarion. Seated by a window on the top of the castle he gazed at the view:
Far underneath us, between the mountain base and the sea, lay a belt of groves and olive yards, dotted with gleaming villages and fringed with little promontories that ran into the waves like mulberry leaves. From among these, as if from some submerged world, up through the air came a musical tinkle of goat bells and the miniature shouts of undistinguishable human beings. Around us, the ruined masonry enclosed an enchanted quiet. Near us on the floor, which the queen’s feet once had trodden, lay the bleaching bones of a kid, the remains of some vulture’s feast. Nothing that we could see moved, except the bells of some nearby anemones and a vulture itself overhead, wheeling in slow circles.
Painting: PNT-00385, St. Hilarion Castle, Cyprus, Edward Holroyd Pearce, oil on board, ca. 1930
© Costas and Rita Severis Foundation
The 'What I Saw...' series is made possible with the support of OPAP (Cyprus) and the Active Citizens Fund.