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By Maturin M. Ballou.

THE STORY OF MALTA. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

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 THE STORY OF MALTA




 BY

 MATURIN M. BALLOU




 "_This precious stone set in the silver sea_"




 [Illustration]




 BOSTON AND NEW YORK
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge
 1893




 Copyright, 1893,
 BY MATURIN M. BALLOU.

 _All rights reserved._




 _The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A._
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company.




PREFACE.


Perhaps the strongest recommendation for faithful books of travel lies
in the fact that intelligent people consult the best maps while perusing
them, and thus familiarize themselves with important facts in geography.
Such books are especially advantageous to the young, too many of whom
are inclined to neglect this all-important branch of education. Although
Malta appears upon the map as a mere speck, on account of its
superficial area being comparatively so diminutive, yet the patient
reader who is not already familiar with its absorbing story will find
herein a new field of historic and romantic interest, exceeding that
which pertains to any other of the numerous Mediterranean islands. In
all his experience as a traveler, the author has failed to discover any
locality of similar dimensions which embraces so thrilling a history, or
whose present aspect is more attractive and picturesque. Since the
opening of the Suez Canal, it has become the maritime halfway house
between Europe and Asia, which imparts to it vast commercial importance,
and causes it to be visited by many people who, but for the force of
circumstances, would probably never have become conversant with its
singularly beautiful surroundings, or its fascinating capital, the
unique city of Valletta.

Specialists, students of antiquity, geologists, and lovers of the early
development of art, together with many others, visit Malta to avail
themselves of its rare old library; to view the mouldering monuments of
a commercial people who lived here three thousand years ago; to examine
the peculiar geological strata of the island; to study its quaint
examples of statuary, tapestry, and paintings; to collect skeletons and
bones of extinct races of animals, still to be found in its spacious
caves and beneath the surface of the ground. The average tourist has not
been attracted hither, and little realizes the pleasurable experiences
which await the intelligent and observant visitor.

While preparing these pages for the press, the author has received a
letter, written by an experienced traveler, from which he quotes as
follows: "The reading of your book entitled 'Due North' promptly sent me
to view the glories of the 'Midnight Sun,' at the North Cape. I thank
you sincerely for the inspiration." Perhaps these pen-pictures of the
Queen of the Mediterranean may influence others in a similar manner.

 M. M. B.




CONTENTS.


 CHAPTER I.

 Geographical Position of Malta.--A Pivotal Location.--Warden
 of the Great Inland Sea.--First Sight of the Group.--How
 to reach the Island.--Early Inhabitants.--Language of the
 People.--Phoenician Colonists.--Arabian Dynasty.--A Piratical
 Rendezvous.--Suez Canal.--Two Sorts of Travelers.--Gibraltar.
 --Harbor of Valletta.--A Place of Arms.--Various Bays of the
 Group.--Dimensions.--Extensive Commerce of the Port.                  1


 CHAPTER II.

 Island of Hyperia.--Where St. Paul was Wrecked.--An
 Historical Bay.--Rock-Cut Tombs.--Curious and Unique
 Antiquities.--Sovereignty of the Knights of St. John.--An
 Anomalous Brotherhood.--Sailor-Monks.--Ancient Galleys.--A
 Famous Barbary Corsair.--Antique Norwegian Vessel.--Navy of
 the Knights.--Barbaric Warfare.--About the Maltese Nobility.
 --Romantic History.--"Arabian Nights."--Valletta the Beautiful.      21


 CHAPTER III.

 The Maltese Group.--Comino.--Cave Life.--Verdant Gozo.--Isle
 of Filfla.--Curious Lizards.--Loss of an Ironclad.--Mysterious
 Wheel-Tracks.--Earthquakes.--Population.--Military Depot.--
 Youthful Soldiers.--Quarantine.--Arrival of the Knights.--
 Immorality.--Harbor Defenses.--Land Fortifications.--Charming
 Photographic View.--The Stars and Stripes Abroad.--The
 Eight-Pointed Maltese Cross.--Peculiar Sunset Scene.                 41


 CHAPTER IV.

 The Soil of Malta.--Imports and Exports.--Absence of Trees.
 --Equable Climate.--Three Crops Annually.--Use of Fertilizers.
 --Ignorant and Pious Peasantry.--Food of the People.--Maltese
 Women.--Oriental Customs.--Roman Catholic Influence.--
 Improvisation.--Early Marriages.--A Resort for the Pope.--Low
 Wages.--Beggars.--Wind Storms.--Blood Oranges.--The Carob-Tree.
 --Maltese Lace.--Sailing along the Shore.                            64


 CHAPTER V.

 The Climate of Malta.--The Furious Gregale.--Liability to
 Sunstroke.--The African Sirocco.--Cloudless Days.--A Health
 Resort.--English Church.--View of AEtna.--Volcanic Disturbances.
 --Will Malta Eventually Disappear?--Native Flora.--Flower-Girls
 of Valletta.--Absence of Lakes and Rivers.--The Moon-Flower.--
 Grand Stone Aqueduct.--After the Roman Plan of Building.--
 Fountains.--Results of Irrigation.                                   86


 CHAPTER VI.

 Homer's Fabled Siren.--Singular Topographical Formation in
 Gozo.--Beautiful Island Groves.--Fertile Grain-Fields.--
 Flowering Hedges.--Aromatic Honey.--Herds of Goats.--A
 Favorite Domestic Product.--Milk Supply.--Prolific Sheep.--A
 Maltese Market.--Quail Shooting.--Rabbato, Capital of Gozo.
 --The Old Citadel.--Lace Manufacture.--Prehistoric Ruins.--The
 Giant's Tower.--Attractive Summer Resort.--Pagan Worship.           101


 CHAPTER VII.

 A Maltese Fishing Hamlet.--Old Fort Chambray.--A Grotto shorn
 of Poetic Adornment.--The "Azure Window."--Bay of Scilendi.--
 Pirates' Caves.--Prehistoric Bones and Skeletons.--The Vast
 Changes of Land and Sea.--Suez Canal.--Geological Matters.--
 Native Race of Arabic Descent.--Curious Stone Mortars.--
 Primitive Artillery.--Maltese Fungus.--Springtime.--Riches of
 the Harvest.--Origin of the Island of Gozo.                         115


 CHAPTER VIII.

 Valletta, Capital of Malta.--A Unique City.--Bright Faces,
 Flowers, and Sunshine.--Architecture.--L'Isle Adam and La
 Vallette, Grand Masters.--Mount Sceberris.--Stone Dwelling-Houses.
 --Streets of the Capital.--A Specialty.--Fancy Goods Merchants.
 --The Yacht Sunbeam.--Main Street of the City.--A Grand Opera
 House.--A St. Giles in Malta.--Strada Santa Lucia.--Street of
 Stairs.--Thoroughfares.--The Military Hospital.--Characteristic
 Street Scenes.--Emigration.                                         129


 CHAPTER IX.

 Ophthalmia.--Profusion of Flowers.--Inland Villages.--Educational
 Matters.--Public Amusements.--Maltese Carnival.--Italian Carnival.
 --Under English Rule.--No Direct Taxation.--Code of Laws.--A
 Summer Palace.--Governor-General Smyth.--San Antonio Gardens.--
 Wages.--Oranges.--Life's Contrasts.--Swarming Beggars.--Social
 Problem.--Churches crowded with Riches.--Starving Population.--A
 Mexican Experience.                                                 152


 CHAPTER X.

 Broadway of Valletta.--Panoramic Street View.--A Bogus Nobility.
 --Former Grand Palace of the Knights.--Telegraphic Station.--
 About Soldier-Priests.--Interior of the Palace.--Ancient
 Tapestry.--Old Paintings.--Antique Armory.--An American with a
 Fad.--Ancient Battle-Flags.--Armor worn by the Knights.--Days
 of the Crusaders.--Bonaparte as a Petty Thief.--There are no
 Saints on Earth!--Dueling Ground.--Desecrating Good Friday.         172


 CHAPTER XI.

 The Famous Church of St. John.--By What Means it was Decorated.
 --Grand Mosaic Floor.--Roman Catholic Ceremonials.--Remarkable
 Relics.--Chapels of the Languages.--A Devout Artist.--Church
 Treasures.--Thieving French Soldiers.--Poetical Justice.--The
 Hateful Inquisition.--Churches of Valletta.--A Forlorn Hope.
 --Heroic Conduct.--A Maltese Pantheon.--A Rival Dome to St.
 Paul's, London.--Some Fine Paintings.                               193


 CHAPTER XII.

 Public Library of Malta.--British Museum, London.--City
 Circulating Library.--Museum of Valletta.--Interesting
 Curiosities.--Birthplace of Hannibal.--Pawnbroker's
 Establishment.--Savings Bank of the Monte di Pieta.--The
 Baraccas.--A Superb View.--An Excursion Inland.--Ancient
 Capital of Malta.--Citta Vecchia.--Toy Railway.--About the
 Vatican at Rome.--An Ancient Cathedral.--Dungeons of the
 Middle Ages.                                                        214


 CHAPTER XIII.

 Ancient Catacombs.--A Subterranean City.--Phoenician Tombs.
 --Grotto of St. Paul.--A Crumbling Old Capital.--Dreary and
 Deserted.--Bingemma Hills.--Ancient Coins and Antique Utensils.
 --Ruins of a Pagan Temple.--A Former Fane to Hercules.--A
 Garden of Delights.--Druidical Circles.--Beautiful Grotto.--
 Crude Native Dances.--Unique Musical Instrument.--Nasciar.--
 Suburb of Floriana.--A Capuchin Convent.--Grim Skeletons.           231


 CHAPTER XIV.

 The Chivalric Order of St. John.--Humble Beginning of the
 Organization.--Hospitallers.--Days of the Crusades.--Motto of
 the Brotherhood.--Peter Gerard.--The Monk lost in the Soldier.
 --At Acre, Cyprus, and Rhodes.--Naval Operations.--Siege of
 Rhodes.--Garden of the Levant.--Piratical Days.--Six Months of
 Bloodshed.--Awful Destruction of Human Life.--A Famous Fighting
 Knight.--Final Evacuation of Rhodes by the Order.                   254


 CHAPTER XV.

 Settlement of the Order at Malta.--A Barren Waste.--A New
 Era for the Natives.--Foundling Hospitals.--Grand Master
 La Vallette.--Sailors and Soldiers.--Capture of Prisoners at
 Mondon.--A Slave Story in Brief.--Christian Corsairs!--The
 Ottomans attack the Knights in their New Home.--Defeat
 of the Turks.--Terrible Slaughter of Human Beings.--Civil
 War.--Summary Punishment.--Some Details
 of a Famous Siege.                                                  274


 CHAPTER XVI.

 Result of the Siege.--Native Women serving as Soldiers.--The
 Maltese Militia.--The Knights gain World-Wide Applause.--Rage
 of Sultan Solyman.--Agents of the Grand Master become
 Incendiaries.--La Vallette, Hero of the Siege.--The Order still
 Piratical.--The Turks and Knights Affiliate.--Decadence of the
 Chivalric Brotherhood.--Momentary Revival of the Old Spirit.
 --Treacherous Surrender.--French Sovereignty.--End of the Order.    297


 CHAPTER XVII.

 Conclusion.--A Picture of Sunrise at Malta.--The Upper Baracca
 of Valletta.--A Favorite and Sightly Promenade.--Retrospective
 Flight of Fancy.--Conflict between the Soldiers of the Cross
 and the Crescent.--A Background Wanting.--Historical and
 Legendary Malta.--The Secret of Appreciation.--Last View of the
 Romantic Group.--Farewell.                                          314




THE STORY OF MALTA.


CHAPTER I.

      Geographical Position of Malta.--A Pivotal Location.--Warden
      of the Great Inland Sea.--First Sight of the Group.--How to
      reach the Island.--Early Inhabitants.--Language of the
      People.--Phoenician Colonists.--Arabian Dynasty.--A Piratical
      Rendezvous.--Suez Canal.--Two Sorts of Travelers.--Gibraltar.
      --Harbor of Valletta.--A Place of Arms.--Various Bays of the
      Group.--Dimensions.--Extensive Commerce of the Port.


The island of Malta has been known by several significant appellations
during the centuries in which it has claimed a place upon the pages of
history. In our day it is often called the Queen of the Mediterranean,
not only because of its commanding position, dominating, as it were, the
coasts of Europe, Asia, and Africa, but also as possessing a degree of
historical and present picturesqueness unsurpassed by any land between
the Columns of Hercules and the coast of Asia Minor. To the north lie
Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica; to the east are Greece, Turkey, and
Syria; and to the southwest is the coast of Barbary; thus forming an
amphitheatre of nations. Malta is therefore a pivotal location about
which vast interests revolve. The loving, patriotic Maltese proudly call
this shadeless island in the middle of the sea, _Fior del Mondo_,--"the
flower of the world." Yet it must be confessed that the downright
ignorance of these natives concerning the rest of the globe is
appalling. To the critical reader of history it is as much classic
ground as Athens or Rome. Situated twenty-five hundred miles from
England, the government fully realizes its importance as an effective
base of naval and military operations, and as an essential outpost for
keeping open the route to India. In fact, Malta is the strongest link in
the chain which connects Great Britain with her possessions in the East.

During the Crimean war, it was made an English sanitarium for the sick
and wounded who were invalided in that protracted struggle between the
Western powers and Russia. We regarded it, after India, as one of the
most important of the English dependencies. It is in no sense a colony,
but is much more of a military focus than Gibraltar. Naval men consider
Malta to be the warden of that great aqueous expanse, embracing nearly a
million square miles, which separates the continent of Europe from the
northern coast of Africa, the _Magnum Mare_ of the Old World,--a sea
whose memorable shores are thickly strewn with bays and cities, each one
of which teems with historic and poetic interest. It is not the tranquil
and lake-like expanse which it is popularly considered, but is capable
of nearly as fierce commotion as the Atlantic. Another property usually
but incorrectly attributed to the Mediterranean is that it is tideless,
but it actually responds to the same lunar influence that affects the
great waters of both hemispheres. The fact of its being so much warmer
than the open ocean is probably owing in part to the absence of polar
currents. The tide is most noticeable in the Gulf of Venice, where the
rise and fall is from three to four feet.

The author, while on a journey round the world, was coming from the East
when he first sighted Malta. It was before daylight, early in the spring
of the year. A ship's officer pointed out what appeared like a bright
star on the horizon, but which soon proved to be the clear, far-reaching
fortress-light of St. Elmo, "with strange, unearthly splendor in the
glare." It seemed like the eye of a Cyclops peering through the
darkness, as though one of Vulcan's workmen, fresh from the fiery
furnace beneath Sicilian AEtna, not far away, had come forth to gaze upon
the progress of the night.

In seeking to reach Malta from Boston or New York, the island would be
approached from the opposite direction. After crossing the Atlantic to
England, the most direct route is by the Peninsular and Oriental
Steamship Line, by way of Marseilles. These vessels depart every
alternate Thursday, and make the passage in eight days, touching at
Gibraltar, forming, perhaps, the most economical route. If a land
journey is preferred, the steamer can be taken at Naples, where the
vessels of this line touch to receive and deliver the regular mails.
This charming Italian city can be reached from London by way of Calais,
Mont Cenis, and Turin. The island, however, is accessible from England
and the continent by many different routes, as the fancy of the traveler
may dictate.

So much in the way of introduction it seems proper to state for the
information of the general reader.

Malta holds an important place in the records of history as far back as
three thousand years ago, during which period the island has been
constantly associated with heroic names and startling events, playing a
prominent and tragic part in the mighty drama of the past. The transient
visitor to the group, however well read, fails to remember its vivid
story in detail, and to apply it intelligibly. He is too ardently
stimulated by the unique surroundings, the strange mingling of races,
the Oriental style of the architecture, the curious site of the capital,
and the general glamour of local color impregnating everything, to pause
for comparison or analysis. Like one sitting down to a table teeming
with choice viands, he is at a loss where to begin to appease his
voracious appetite. It is while engaged in quiet afterthought, when
reviewing the experiences gained upon the spot, that the fullness of
interest is aroused, as he turns to the quaint pages of many an ancient
tome, to seek for the story of its earliest inhabitants. We can recall
no other country which has experienced so many and such notable changes
among its rulers, though it requires but little research to discover the
paucity of detailed information concerning its early history, which is
absolutely lost in the mist of ages.

Three thousand years--this is not looking backward very far,
comparatively speaking. The author has seen objects of Egyptian
production, in the Boolak Museum, on the banks of the Nile, which were
six thousand years old. The Sphinx, standing in its grim loneliness ten
miles from Cairo, is still older, while in the South Sea Islands there
are prehistoric ruins which are believed to antedate the Sphinx. The
probability is that a degree of antiquity applies to this globe so
inconceivably remote that, like stellar distances, the mind can hardly
realize the truth. Professor Agassiz talked confidently in his day of a
million years having been required to bring about the present conditions
of the earth. Since Agassiz's time geologists and scientists generally
do not hesitate to add the plural to million, guided by the light of
modern progress and discovery.

Such ancient mention of Malta as does exist is crowded with fable, like
the early history of Greece and Rome. An example of this is found in the
popular legend of its having once been inhabited by a cyclopean tribe, a
race of giants, "half human, half divine." These extravagant legends of
poetic history impress us as having, perhaps, some foundation in truth.
It is not falsehood which tradition seeks to perpetuate. Possibility, if
not probability, is required of the wildest romancers. Truth and fable
run in nearly parallel lines. Jules Verne, when he wrote some of his
seemingly extravagant stories, scarcely thought that he was simply
anticipating possible circumstances which would so soon become
realities. The reading world hardly believed that his "Round the World
in Eighty Days" was strictly within the lines of truth; yet that record
has been reduced.

Malta is known to have been the vassal of ten different nationalities.
What the character of these various dynasties may have been can only be
conjectured. There are no records extant by which we can learn aught in
detail concerning them. A few half-ruined monuments, a series of rock
tombs, the debris of mouldering temples, or a nearly obliterated
underground city, "rich with the spoils of time,"--these are significant
suggestions which the student of the past in vain essays to translate
into coherency. The most casual visitor is moved to thoughtfulness as he
contemplates these half-effaced tokens of a long dead and buried race,
who had no Froissart to hand down their story through the lengthening
vista of ages. First came the Phoenicians, who were here many
centuries before the birth of Christ, and who were the earliest known
colonists of Malta. Their sovereignty is believed to have extended
through a period of seven hundred years. Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans,
Goths, and Arabs succeeded each other in the order in which they are
named, followed by German, Spanish, French, and English possessors, the
latter having maintained an uninterrupted mastership since the beginning
of the present century. To a nation whose naval supremacy is its
greatest pride, and which already holds Gibraltar, the key to the
Mediterranean, the holding of Malta is of inestimable importance. With
these facts in view, it is not surprising that its security is so
jealously guarded by England. Perhaps the boastful threat of the first
Napoleon, that he would make of the Mediterranean a French lake, has not
yet been forgotten. At present it is strictly an English dependency,
though surrounded by a score of other nationalities. With the entrance
and exit in her hands, besides holding this unequaled central depot of
arms, no nation could hope successfully to dispute the control of the
Mediterranean with Great Britain. That nationality not only dominates
the great marine highway of the south of Europe, but also the coast of
Asia.

Malta is situated in the middle of the great highway of commerce between
the East and the West, and is the most southerly land in Europe, on
about the 36th parallel of north latitude, its longitude being 15 deg.
east. The neighboring nations have often and fiercely contested for the
sovereignty of Malta, until its soil has been irrigated by the life-tide
of human beings. How strange the history it presents to us, what ages of
melodramatic vicissitudes, emphasized by the discord of warring cannon
and of dying men! How many and how varied the changes it has known in a
period of thrice ten hundred years! Mutability is written on all things
human, while Time, the remorseless iconoclast, performs the bidding of
Destiny.

It would naturally be expected that the language of a people who have
had such a peculiar experience as the Maltese should be a conglomerate,
formed from various Asiatic and European tongues. It seems to be a
mixture of Italian and Arabic, mingled with the patois which is common
in the Grecian Archipelago; but English being the current official
language, it prevails among the educated classes, and is also in general
use for business purposes, especially in the retail shops of Valletta,
the capital. The language of Dante, Petrarch, and Ariosto is still
unknown to the common people, though generally understood and spoken in
society. The masses adhere tenaciously to their native dialect, even
after they have emigrated to other countries. In Gibraltar they pick up
just enough of Spanish to make their wants known, as they do in other
Mediterranean ports to which chance has brought them.

As is often the case in Eastern countries and oceanic islands, Malta is
used both for the name of the island and that of the capital. The one
collective term answers for the entire group; so with the beautiful
island of Ceylon; people do not usually speak of Colombo, its capital,
but of Ceylon, as designating the whole island. Martinique is
sufficiently distinctive as regards that picturesque West Indian island;
St. Pierre and Fort de France, the commercial and political capitals,
are rarely mentioned. Thus Valletta has little significance to the world
at large, while Malta is familiar enough.

The Phoenicians, the Greeks, and the Romans, each left tangible
evidences of their sovereignty here. The ubiquitous Phoenicians, who
are considered to have been the earliest of the commercial tribes, were
by no means entirely free from the charge of piracy, which seems to have
been almost universal upon this central sea in the earlier and middle
ages. Strange, that sea-robbery should have been one of the active
agencies in the world's advancement! It is said that all progress since
the beginning has been from scaffold to scaffold. In our day no lapse
from honorable commercial methods is so abhorrent to civilized nations,
and no crimes are more severely punished. Next to the Turks and
Algerines, the Greeks were the most reprehensible in this respect,--a
people whose love of "freedom" has become a proverb; a country which has
enjoyed more of American sympathy and material aid than any other, but
whose sons in former times never failed to adopt a corsair life when
opportunity offered.

There are very few monuments relating to the occupancy of these islands
by the Arabs, who were settled here for more than two centuries. The
most durable memorial of that people is their language, a tongue
unsurpassed in poetic beauty of expression. After the lapse of ten
centuries it is still spoken among the natives, and is held to be
remarkably pure, especially in Gozo, the sister isle of Malta. Though it
is customary to say that the natives speak Arabic, still it can hardly
be a pure tongue; and yet the newly arrived Arabs can understand the
Maltese, proving that the basis of the two languages must be identical.
An educated resident took occasion to prove to the author that here and
there one could select words from the current speech of the common
people, the derivation of which was clearly Phoenician. Residents of
the capital who are engaged in commerce, and many others of
intelligence, speak English, French, and Italian fluently, and most of
them speak the native tongue as well. The facility for acquiring foreign
languages is a national trait. Cultured Maltese are surpassed only in
this respect by educated Russians.

Italian is the official tongue of the law courts, though English is
gradually superseding it. Why the former language should be persisted
in, it would be difficult to say, though it is the key to all those
common in the Levant. The Maltese are not Italians, and never were. Not
to put too fine a point upon the matter, they are Arabs in their
manners, customs, and language. When the Knights of St. John were
sovereign here, nearly four hundred years ago, there was a certain
degree of consistency in the adoption of Italian as the current or court
language. The intimate relations of the order with the Pope and with
Rome were a predisposing influence which could not but have its effect,
besides which there was the close proximity of the mainland of Italy;
but to continue it as the recognized language of the courts to-day is to
sustain an anomaly.

More is known of the Arab dynasty than of any of its predecessors. As
soon as this people had gained possession of Malta, they promptly
exterminated the Greeks, putting all the male inhabitants to the sword,
while making slaves of their wives and children. They were careful to
conciliate the native population, even permitting them to worship after
the dictates of their own religious convictions, which is a very rare
concession among Mohammedans, where they have the power to do otherwise.
The Arabs chiefly prized this group of islands for the safe harbors
which it afforded in the pursuit of their one occupation, namely, that
of undisguised piracy. Their constant raids upon the coast of Italy
caused many expeditions to be fitted out from that country for the
purpose of driving them away from their stronghold; but as we have said,
the Arabs maintained their sovereignty here for over two hundred years.
Strong defensive works were erected by them on the present site of Fort
St. Angelo, at the entrance of the harbor of Valletta, on the island of
Gozo, and at the old capital of the group, Citta Vecchia, also known as
Civita Notabile,--"Illustrious City," which appellation, in the days of
its glory, was probably not inappropriate. This old city, near the
middle of the island, was a fortified metropolis centuries before the
Arabs came, its defensive walls being contracted by them so that they
might be the more easily manned and defended. To visit Citta Vecchia
to-day is like the realization of a mediaeval dream.

A glance at the map will show the reader that the strategic importance
of these Maltese islands is almost unequaled. Lying in the middle of
the vast and famous inland sea,--happily designated as the cradle of
civilization,--within a brief sail of three continents, sixty miles from
the shore of Sicily, one hundred and ninety from the mainland of Italy,
two hundred from the nearest point of Africa, and equidistant from
Constantinople and Marseilles, Valletta has naturally become a popular
port of call, as well as an important coaling station for many lines of
steamships. This is particularly the case with those bound to or from
England and India by way of the Suez Canal and the Red Sea. The opening
of that famous and all-important waterway insured the lasting commercial
prosperity of the Maltese group. From that day to the present its
material growth has been steadily progressing and its population
increasing. It is well known how much the Suez Canal promotes the
commerce of Europe and Asia, but comparatively few people realize that
we have in America a similar means of transportation which is the avenue
of a much larger marine traffic. We refer to the Sault Ste. Marie Canal,
which connects the State of Michigan with the Canadian Province of
Ontario. The aggregate of the tonnage which annually passes through the
American artificial river is shown by government statistics to far
exceed that of the great canal which connects the Red Sea and the
Mediterranean.

Malta is the halfway station, as it were, of the P. & O. line between
London and Bombay; but there is other regular communication between the
group and England, as well as mail steamships running to Marseilles,
Alexandria, Belgium, Tripoli, and Tunis. Occasionally a single passenger
or a small party of tourists stop at Valletta until the next packet
touches here, enabling them to resume their journey east or west; but it
is rather surprising how few visitors to Malta remain long enough to see
one half of its many objects of interest, while others, who might easily
do so, will not even take the trouble to land. One can sail half round
the globe without finding a locality from which such a store of historic
information and pleasurable memories can be brought away, or whose
present aspect is more inviting. People who have no poetic sense or
delicate appreciation will not find these qualities ready furnished for
them, either at home or abroad. The dull, prosaic individual whose ideas
run only in a practical groove, who lives purely in the commonplace,
will be impressed by travel much after the fashion of the backwoodsman
from Maine, when he saw Niagara Falls for the first time.

"Great Scott!" said he, gazing approvingly upon the moving aqueous body,
"what a waste of water-power!"

A somewhat similar scene, of which the author was a witness, is well
remembered.

"Are you going on shore, madam, while we take in coal?" asked the
captain of a P. & O. steamship, addressing one of his lady passengers,
who was en route from India to England.

"Can I get me a dear little Maltese dog there for a pet?" asked the lady
in response.

"It is doubtful," was the answer. "The animals you refer to are now very
scarce in these islands."

"Then I think I'll remain on board," rejoined madam. "There's nothing on
the island worth seeing, I believe."

"Some persons come thousands of miles solely to visit the place," was
the captain's quiet reply. "Its history is very curious."

"Are there any palaces?"

"There are over half a hundred edifices so called, though they have
nearly all been diverted from their original purpose by the present
government."

"They have nice old lace here, I am told. But one can get the same thing
in London, you know."

"Oh, yes, and perhaps you will be able to find a 'puppy' to your liking,
in London," said the sarcastic captain.

"I think I'll be content with reading about the place," was the final
response of the obtuse passenger.

As to Gibraltar, that gray old solitary rock lying about a thousand
miles to the westward of the Maltese group, and looming to a height of
fourteen hundred feet, it is a far less attractive place, though among
passengers generally there seems to be a different opinion. Here
travelers usually manage to make a break in their sea voyage, and to
remain a couple of days or more to examine the dreary old fortress and
garrison town. We say it is far less attractive than Malta: as regards
its past or present, it bears no comparison to this group. With the
exception of the old Moorish castle which overlooks the town, there is
not a single edifice in Gibraltar with any pretension to architectural
merit or antiquarian interest.

The Maltese dog, about which the lady passenger inquired, is a sort of
spaniel with long, silky, slate- hair, which hangs down from its
head and body, touching the ground. It has in the past been much
esteemed by royal families as a lapdog, and is of a very ancient breed,
being conspicuous upon old Roman monuments. It is spoken of by the
historian Strabo, but it seems to have almost entirely disappeared in
our time, as the captain remarked. We saw an indifferent specimen
offered for sale in Valletta, for which ten pounds sterling was
demanded.

The port of Valletta contains two marine docks, capable of receiving
ships of the largest tonnage, and is resorted to by both naval and
commercial shipping for needed repairs, while it is also the
headquarters of the British Mediterranean war fleet. The aggregate
tonnage of vessels entering and clearing is double that of Gibraltar. As
regards social life, and the usual associations of a commercial capital,
Valletta is far and away in advance of the City of the Rock. One comes
quickly to this conclusion upon comparing the commonplace Water-port
Street of Gibraltar with the unique Strada Reale--"King Street"--of
Valletta. The former is like a dull, narrow lane in an English seaport
town, while the latter, full of life and color, resembles a picturesque
boulevard in an Italian or French capital. Each is, however, above all
else a place of arms; everything is and has ever been made subservient
to this idea.

Malta is more distant from the mainland than any other Mediterranean
island. It is less than twenty miles in length, not quite so large as
the umbrageous Isle of Wight, on the coast of England, though it has
nearly three times as many inhabitants. One often hears that garden of
England compared with Malta, but wherefore, it is impossible to
understand. It would be difficult to imagine a greater contrast than
these two isolated places present. One, embowered in grand old trees and
the rural accessories of a land which nature has delighted to clothe in
verdure; the other, a solitary rock, a convulsive upheaval of the sea,
reclaimed only by patient toil from utter sterility.

The various natural causes which have operated to reduce Malta to its
present size and shape have been very thoroughly discussed by
scientists, a majority of whom agree that it was once attached to the
continent of Europe or of Africa. Our own humble opinion is that it was
probably the connecting link between them both, some time in the long,
long ages which have passed,--a deduction which will seem more
reasonable to the patient reader as we progress in our narrative.

The island is of an irregular oval form, having a superficial area of
about one hundred square miles. The Malta of to-day is only a
diminutive, sea-girt, limestone rock, cropping out of the watery depths
to a height, at its culminating point, of between seven and eight
hundred feet, partly covered with a thin though fertile soil. But its
associations are of a character closely bordering upon romance, and
intensely interesting for their antiquity and novelty. The highest point
of the island is at Casal Dingli, on the south side, where, to be
precise, the serrated ridge of the cliffs reaches an elevation of seven
hundred and fifty feet above sea level. There is, however, no such
average height maintained in any part of the group. The southern shore
is of such a bold, inaccessible character as to require few, if any,
fortifications to protect it from possible invasion by an enemy. It
resembles for long reaches the rugged, precipitous coast of Norway,
presenting a line of abrupt, repelling rocks, rising perpendicularly
from out of the sea to an average height of two or three hundred feet.
The face of these abrupt cliffs is accessible only to sea-birds and
creeping reptiles.

The opposite or northern side of the island is quite different; being
more shelving, and available for landing purposes. It presents numerous
sheltered coves and good harbors for light draught vessels, together
with a great variety of pleasing features peculiar to seaside landscape.
At the southeast end of Malta is the spacious bay and port of Marsa
Scirocco. There is here a good depth of water, and the harbor is
divided, somewhat like that of Valletta, by a promontory or tongue of
land. There is a large fishing village at the head of the bay. Here the
Turks landed an invading army, May 18, 1565, to begin the famous and
sanguinary siege of that date. On June 10, 1798, the French under
General Bonaparte disembarked their troops in the same bay. Northeast of
this place, and half way to Valletta on the coast line, is the small
inlet of Marsa Scala, which is only a shallow bay. The small Sicilian
traders are accustomed to come hither in their light draught boats
rather than to land at Valletta. Still following the northern shore
beyond the admirable double harbor of the capital, we have the lesser
bays of St. Julian, St. George, and Maddalena, besides the larger ones
of St. Paul and Melleha.

Crossing the narrow Straits of Freghi, we find on the north coast of
Gozo the bays of Ramla and Marsa-el-Forno, while on the south side are
those of Scilendi and Duejra. In this enumeration we have all the bays
and harbors of any importance in the whole Maltese group. Landing on the
southern side of either the larger or the lesser island is for the most
part impracticable, precipitous cliffs rising sheer from the water's
edge in Gozo, as we have described in Malta proper. On these cliffs
incessant breakers chafe and foam upon the black, barren rocks even in
calm weather. Standing on this lonely shore, there is a fascination in
listening to the solemn moan of the restless sea, in whose bosom there
is so much of sadness, of direful secrets, and of unspent power. The
trend of these islands, which form a very compact group, is nearly in a
straight line from southeast to northwest. A bird's-eye view of the
north side of the island of Malta affords glimpses of the blue sea
penetrating the barren and yellow land for short distances, like
Norwegian fjords, and supplying the absence of rivers and lakes as
regards scenic effect, objects which the eye seeks for in vain
throughout this rocky group.

Few islands, or, indeed, we may say few reaches of seacoast on the
mainland, of similar dimensions, can show so many good and available
harbors as are found on the north shore of Malta. Though the commercial
necessities of the group have not yet caused them to be specially
improved for shipping purposes, yet they will always be available. The
admirable twin harbors of the capital have so far afforded all necessary
facilities, but should the group improve as rapidly in business and
population for the next few years as it has done during the last decade,
another convenient harbor on the north coast will naturally become
developed into a commercial depot, while the construction of a new and
modern city will be sure to follow.

It is doubtful if there are many persons, even among those who are
engaged in commerce, who realize the large amount of business which the
government statistics already credit to the Maltese group, a commerce
which is annually on the increase. The returns for the year 1891 show
that the imports and exports of Valletta are almost exactly the same in
the aggregate values, each considerably exceeding twenty-two million
pounds sterling.

The presentation of an important statistical fact will emphasize this
statement. Over six hundred thousand tons of coal are annually imported
for use and for exportation. The arrival and departure of ten large
steamships is a fair daily average, supplemented by one or two sea-going
private yachts. There are few days in the year that the echoes are not
ruthlessly awakened by the interchange of salutes with newly arrived
vessels of war. Altogether, the two harbors of the capital present a
constantly varying scene of great maritime activity, while the town
itself is a picture of gay and varied life, rivaling in this respect
many a continental metropolis far more pretentious, and having thrice
its population.

As the present possessors of the island of Malta, its story has
doubtless a greater degree of interest for the English than for any
other people. But as regards its relation to the history of the past,
its importance is universal. When it was a Phoenician colony, so long
ago, it was a powerful factor in the political calculations of the
Christian powers; but above all other associations, the island will
always be famous as the place where the glory of the chivalrous Knights
of St. John reached its zenith, and where it also came to its
ignominious end. Of this period the pages of history furnish a fair
amount of truthful detail, but conjecture alone can fill the blank which
precedes the arrival of this remarkable order at Malta.




CHAPTER II.

      Island of Hyperia.--Where St. Paul was Wrecked.--An
      Historical Bay.--Rock-Cut Tombs.--Curious and Unique
      Antiquities.--Sovereignty of the Knights of St. John.--An
      Anomalous Brotherhood.--Sailor-Monks.--Ancient Galleys.--A
      Famous Barbary Corsair.--Antique Norwegian Vessel.--Navy of
      the Knights.--Barbaric Warfare.--About the Maltese Nobility.
      --Romantic History.--"Arabian Nights."--Valletta the
      Beautiful.


Lovers of classic fable will remember that one of the islands of this
group was named Hyperia by Homer, and was the supposed residence of the
mystic nymph Calypso, where she entertained--not to say detained--the
shipwrecked Ulysses by her siren fascinations, when he was on his way
home from Troy. Her grotto, entirely shorn of its poetic adornment, is
exhibited to the curious stranger at Gozo. It was while under the
Phoenician dynasty that Calypso is supposed to have kept Ulysses
prisoner for seven years. Such ingenious allegories impart a certain
local and romantic interest, though they rather obscure than illumine
history. Homer threw a glow of poetic fancy over the localities which he
depicted, while Scott--to present a contrasting instance--gives us
photographic delineations of the times and places to which he introduces
us. In "Kenilworth," for instance, the novelist teaches the average
reader more about the days of Queen Elizabeth than a labored history of
her reign would do, presenting it also in such a form as to fix it
firmly upon the mind.

It would seem that fable, like history, is bound to repeat itself, since
thousands of years subsequent to Ulysses' shipwreck here, another
disaster of this sort, but of far greater import, took place upon the
group.

According to Biblical record, St. Paul, when a prisoner, on his way from
Jerusalem to Rome to plead his case before the Emperor Nero, about sixty
years after the beginning of the Christian era, was wrecked in a rocky
bay of Malta which still bears his name,--_La Baia di San Paolo_. It is
situated seven or eight miles northwest from Valletta, and forms a broad
inlet, the entrance to which is nearly two miles wide, running inland
about three miles. It has some twenty fathoms of water at the entrance,
gradually shoaling towards its upper extremity. Seaward, and near the
mouth of the bay, is a small island. The shore is dominated by the Tower
of St. Paul, a square stone structure erected February 10, 1610. The day
indicated is the supposed anniversary of the wreck. Near the tower is a
chapel, in which are some paintings and frescoes, which depict in a
crude manner the catastrophe which occurred to the Apostle. A small
fishing village exists here to-day, as in the time of the famous wreck.
The creek just below the stone church is still the refuge for
fishing-boats when the weather is stormy.

A dark, threatening, straggling ledge of rocks rises above the surface
of the water some distance from the shore, over which the restless sea
breaks in fleecy clouds of spray. Upon this ledge, after being
tempest-tossed for fourteen days and nights, the bark which bore St.
Paul is supposed to have foundered.

"They ran the ship aground; and the forepart stuck fast, and remained
unmovable, but the hinder part was broken with the violence of the
waves." On Selmoon Island, just referred to, there is a colossal statue
of St. Paul, which was erected by the devout Maltese some fifty years
ago. The popular reverence for the Apostle's name in this region is very
general, bays, churches, streets, and chapels being designated by it,
while in the inland villages may be found wayside shrines, small outdoor
altars, and springs of delicious drinking-water, dedicated to this
revered name. A grand annual festival takes place on February 10,
commemorative of the shipwreck of the Apostle to the Gentiles,--Paul,
the poor tent-maker of Tarsus. The church of San Paolo, Valletta, in the
street of the same name, is the headquarters of this annual
demonstration, which takes the form of processions, illuminations, and
church ceremonials. This special style of public display is very dear to
the average citizen of Malta.

It was a little over fourteen hundred years after the event of the wreck
in St. Paul's Bay, which occurred about A. D. 60, that Malta
was deeded by the Emperor Charles V. to the then homeless Knights of
St. John, together with Gozo and Tripoli, a fact which will be more
fully referred to as we progress with our story of the group.

There has been much ink wasted in controversy as to whether this was
really the island and this the bay where St. Paul met with his maritime
adventure, but it certainly seems to answer every necessary requirement,
and has for several centuries been thus universally designated. The
average visitor feels no doubt that he gazes upon the "certain creek
with a shore, into the which they were minded, if it were possible, to
thrust in the ship" (Acts xxvii. 39). A fresh northeaster was blowing as
we viewed the scene, driving the waves in gallant style upon the ledge
and shore, while at the same time filling the air with misty spray and
rank sea-odors. The long line of milk-white combers, after expending
their force upon the shore, rushed swiftly back, drawn by a mysterious
undertow towards the deep waters. The noise of the vexed and boisterous
element created a continuous roar, as the waves followed each other in
endless succession. It was the _gregale_, the northeasterly blast so
much dreaded by the fishermen, and which in the olden time, before
navigation was better understood, created such havoc in this midland
sea. It would have been difficult to effect a dry landing, even from a
well-managed boat, with such a troubled sea running. One naturally
remembered "a tempestuous wind called Euroclydon" which the Apostle
encountered, while the imagination was busy in depicting the struggle of
Paul and his companions to reach the shore on broken timbers of the
ship.

The beach of St. Paul's Bay seems to be composed of the very smallest of
sea-shells, together with some larger ones, which have been mostly
broken and powdered by the endless hammering of the waves. There is a
fine sand, or something which represents it, probably composed of the
powder from the shells. This place is a favorite resort of the people
from Valletta for bathing purposes, but it was not an inviting day when
we stood by the shore, and no bathers were seen. It was very natural for
one to recall the Biblical words, "He maketh the deep to boil like a
pot."

In this neighborhood there are numerous prehistoric rock-hewn tombs, cut
by ingenious and skilled hands with effective tools. That these are
Phoenician remains, there seems to be little if any doubt. Those
aboriginal colonists were the commercial people of their time, who
settled much earlier at Rhodes, and other islands of the Levant, than
they did at Malta. They planted colonies in Sicily, Sardinia, and Spain.
Carthage was founded by them. Malta afforded a convenient stopping-place
between Carthage and the mother country, and was naturally prized on
that account, having such ample harbors of refuge, and it doubtless
afforded the means of repairing any damages which resulted from storms
at sea.

Out of the rock-hewn tombs, of which we were speaking, interesting
relics bearing Phoenician characters have been taken from time to
time, such as vases and mural urns, together with articles of domestic
use made from burnt clay, some of which are preserved in the Museum at
Valletta. Other curiosities from the same source are to be seen in the
private collections of English officials, and of wealthy Maltese. Years
of research would not exhaust the interest which the student of the past
must feel in these antiquities. We know of no more fruitful theme or
more promising field, for the historian and the archaeologist, than is
here presented. It is not an untried one, but it is very nearly
inexhaustible, in pursuing which little expense and no hardship is
necessarily encountered. Every facility is freely accorded, both by the
resident population and by the government.

Some of the best examples of Phoenician inscriptions now to be seen in
the British Museum were brought to light at Bighi, in these islands,
where this ancient people worshiped Juno in a stately temple which stood
on the spot now occupied by the moat of Fort St. Angelo. There are few
parts of the world so varied in antiquarian interests as the islands of
this group. Professor Sayce, the eminent Orientalist of Oxford, England,
tells us that Malta contains Phoenician antiquities of a kind found
nowhere else, and he pronounces the sanctuaries of the Giant's Tower, in
Gozo, together with its companion ruin in the larger island, absolutely
unique. These islands undoubtedly occupied an important position in the
history of those remote days. The few Maltese who have written about
this period dwell with great emphasis upon the glory of Malta while
under Phoenician rule, though they are quite unable to give us any
reliable details of the long ages in which this people held sovereignty
here.

Within a few years some remains were unearthed which were attributed to
the Goths, but of all the people who have been mentioned, they probably
left fewer evidences of their presence in Malta than did any other race.
After becoming masters of Italy and Sicily, they came hither about
A. D. 506, and held possession of the group for nearly forty
years, until they were expelled by the army of Justinian under
Belisarius.

The most romantic period of the ever-changing history of this group of
islands, subjected first and last to the control of so many different
nationalities, is undoubtedly that embraced in the two centuries and a
half of the eventful sovereignty of the Knights of St. John,--Knights
Hospitallers, as they were very properly called at first, the most
famous order of mediaeval chivalry, whose name is more familiar to us as
Knights of Malta. The first convent of the founders at Jerusalem was
dedicated to St. John; hence the original name of the order. It was the
earliest systematized charity of the sort concerning which we have any
authentic record. If the true history of this organization could be
written, it would overshadow the most vivid romance. It began in
Palestine during the darkness of the tenth century, when the Saracens
were masters of Jerusalem, and it extends to the verge of the
eighteenth. It is but the outline of important events, which live
through the ages to reach us. The individual is sunk in the mass, and
yet real history is but enlarged biography. The truth of this is shown
in the life of La Vallette, as handed down through three centuries. His
biography gives us a better history of the order of which he was Grand
Master than do writers who attempt it by treating the brotherhood as a
whole. Had the moral character of the Knights of St. John been equal to
their dauntless courage, the order would have formed a worthy example
for all time; but their record shows them and their deeds to have been
of mingled good and evil, the latter quality oftenest predominating. In
the period when their material prosperity was at its height, they were
equally celebrated for wealth, pomp, and vice. While they were boastful
and claimed to be invincible, unlike most braggarts, they were
undeniably brave. Nor was this by any means the only anomaly in the
character of this singular and famous fraternity. Their career
exemplified vice and self-abnegation, hospitality and piracy, the
devoted care of the sick and the slaughter of their fellow-men, in about
equal proportions. These clerical warriors presented a unique phase of
human nature, the outgrowth of a period which, while demanding much
sternness of character to cope with its exigencies, was also peculiarly
amenable to the influence of religious superstition. The brotherhood
owed a large degree of its influence to the cloak of sanctity which it
so boldly assumed, but the humble spirit of which it so unhesitatingly
and persistently outraged.

The attempt to unite two professions so remote in principles was like
trying to make oil and water mingle.

The Grand Master, whose authority was absolute, was elected by the
Knights from their own body, and held the office for life. In the choice
of this individual, the order seemed to be almost always influenced by
more than common wisdom, their election being guided by the best
influences and wisest judgment. They realized the proper qualities which
should characterize one placed in this responsible position, and chose
accordingly. They did not seek to elect such a leader as should favor
this or that "language," this or that section of the fraternity, but one
who was endowed with sufficient courage and conscientious piety to rule
over them with impartiality. That there was an element of weakness ever
present among them, emanating from the division into languages, is very
true, and it was this influence which the Grand Master had always to
guard against. National rivalry was inevitable, no matter how much the
fraternity endeavored, as a body, to avoid it.

The Knights of St. John made the island of Malta the bulwark of
Christendom against the advance of the pale, but bloodstained standard
of the Turks. Even after settling here, which proved to be their final
home, a bitter and murderous conflict was carried on by them with the
Ottoman power, both on sea and land, but especially in their galleons,
until at last, after triumphantly sustaining an unprecedented siege,
during which they actually killed the enemy in the trenches, three times
their own number, the Knights, with ranks seriously thinned, were left
in undisputed possession of these islands. Victory not only crowned
their sanguinary warfare with the Turks, but they also rid the
Mediterranean, at least for a considerable period, of a much-dreaded
scourge, which had so long hampered the commerce of these waters,
namely, the rapacious Greek, Turkish, and Algerine pirates. In the
armory of the Grand Palace at Valletta, there may be seen to-day, among
other trophies taken from the enemy by the Knights, the sword of the
renowned pirate chief, known as Admiral Dragut, who was also Pasha of
Tripoli. The owner of the sword was fatally wounded in the siege of
Malta, before the walls of St. Elmo, in 1565.

This daring man, entirely wanting in the attribute of mercy, and known
as the most reckless and successful corsair of his day, yet preserved
some chivalrous instincts which were exhibited on occasion. A gallant
saying, which is often attributed to others, was first uttered by him,
if we may believe contemporary authority. It was at the time when the
Turkish forces, with whom Dragut had joined in the attempt to take
Malta, after struggling for months in the vain endeavor to capture the
fort of St. Elmo, were engaged in the last decisive assault. The pirate,
now advanced in years, lay sorely wounded and dying, when he asked the
surgeon, who was by his side, "How goes the battle?" "Our soldiers have
taken the fort and massacred its defenders," was the reply. "Allah be
praised!" gasped the sinking corsair, "then I die content." These were
his last words. Dragut was very humbly born, beginning his profession as
a common seaman, at the lowest round of the ladder, that is, as cabin
boy. His fortune was a strangely varied one, now a galley slave, now a
soldier in the Sultan's service, now a pilot on the sea, and now a
daring pirate, working his way upward by patient determination, until
finally he stood as master upon the deck of his own galley, and was the
terror of these seas. It was not long before he became admiral of the
entire Turkish navy. Dragut had pursued his piratical and warlike career
for nearly half a century. He possessed executive qualities which fitted
him to act both as an admiral and as a general, a large share of his
victories having been achieved upon the land. He had agreed with the
Sultan of Turkey to join forces with him in the attack upon Malta, but
was delayed for a few days, so the Sultan's commander began the siege
without him. Mustafa Pasha made a bad piece of business of it, and did
not open his attack with true soldierly skill. When Dragut arrived,
important changes were promptly made, and it was while directing these
movements that the famous corsair received his death wound.

We have seen that the organization of St. John did not confine itself
to warfare upon the land; many of the order were trained seamen, and
were always ready to take the aggressive in marine enterprises when
occasion offered. The strict vows of the brotherhood compelled the
members to wage ceaseless warfare against the infidels. This was the
most clearly defined and determined of their purposes, in the
prosecution of which they adhered tenaciously to the last. In these sea
fights their well-known courage, superior weapons, and persistency
nearly always insured success. Their galleys, well equipped for that
period, were held in readiness for service, moored in the land-locked
creeks of Grand Harbor. These were efficient vessels for the immediate
service they were designed to serve. They were over one hundred feet in
length and twenty-five wide, being propelled by oars or sails, according
to the wind. The sails were not designed for use unless the wind was
aft, as the art of tacking and sailing to windward was not then
practiced. Fifty oars, that is, twenty-five on a side, was a common
arrangement, and there were from three to six galley slaves at each oar,
according to the size of the vessel. These men were chained in their
places, and if they did not work to the satisfaction of the boatswain,
the lash fell without mercy upon their bare backs. A galley was rigged
with two masts, upon each of which a large square sail was hoisted. When
the oars were in use, these sails were clewed up. Several cannon were
fitted to each side, and one was designed to fire from the stern; but
when in action, the usual plan was to ram the enemy's craft, and thus
disable him, or, by boarding, to effect a capture in a hand-to-hand
fight. The half-naked, half-starved slaves often dropped dead at the
oars, and were ruthlessly cast into the sea. No more cruel punishment
could be inflicted upon a criminal than to condemn him to the life of an
oarsman in the galleys.

There is probably no more striking and significant example of the
material progress of the times than that afforded by contrasting the
iron-clad warship of to-day with a fighting caravel of the period of
which we are speaking.

Contrary to what might reasonably be supposed, the people who lived upon
the shores of the Mediterranean did not build vessels which were at all
comparable in general excellence with those constructed by the Northmen
at the same period. The galleons used by the Greeks, Turks, and
Algerines, as well as by the Knights of St. John, were awkward and
unwieldy; their hulls represented no true lines of nautical beauty or
usefulness. They were not seaworthy, as the term is usually applied.
When the weather was severe, the vessel was always anchored under the
lee of the nearest land, or was put into some sheltered bay. These
vessels carried far too much top hamper, and exposed too much surface to
the wind, to be safe when a storm raged. Their free board was enormous,
compared with their draught. The author has seen at Christiania, in
Sweden, the hull of an ancient war craft which was dug out of the clayey
soil of the country, where it had been preserved for centuries, that
antedated these galleons used by the Knights at Rhodes and at Malta, it
having been built at least nine hundred years ago. Its lines and
construction combined three important qualities, storage capacity,
buoyancy, and speed, and it was intended to lie low in the water, thus
presenting but small surface to a storm on the ocean. Not one of these
characteristics could be claimed for the galleys of this inland sea. The
latter were crude, top-heavy, with high-curved poop and stern, and
designed only for fair weather service, while the northern-made craft
could ride out the fiercest storm in safety when properly managed, and
were built for open ocean navigation. In fact, this model, still to be
seen at the Museum in Christiania, is such as bore the Northmen across
the Atlantic to our shores, centuries before the time of Columbus, whose
discoveries we commemorate. The naval branch of the Order of St. John
was originated soon after their expulsion from Jerusalem, and was
rapidly developed while they occupied the island of Rhodes, but it did
not reach its highest efficiency until after their settlement at Malta,
where the situation of the island and its extraordinary harbor
facilities particularly favored maritime enterprise. There they built
many armed galleys, though all the material which entered into their
construction was necessarily imported. There was no available wood to be
found upon the island, except that which was brought from the mainland
of Italy. A people entirely surrounded by water naturally came to be
good boat and ship builders, and the galleons produced during the
sovereignty of the Knights showed great improvement, and were famous for
their staunch character compared with those of their neighbors. These
vessels, however, would be considered nothing less than marine
monstrosities in our day.

The galleys of the Knights did not remain long idle. When a restless
spirit moved their owners, they promptly set sail for the coast of
Barbary, where, surprising some unprotected settlement, they burned the
place to the ground, enslaving those whose lives they spared. If there
were any high officials among their prisoners, or persons of special
importance, such were held for ransom. If the payment demanded for their
release did not come promptly, they too became common slaves and worked
with the rest at the trying galley oars. This service, if they were not
in good health and strength, soon put an end to their lives. Such were
the deeds of professed Christians, who, in their ignorant and bigoted
zeal, actually seem to have thought themselves to be serving God by
robbing, destroying, and enslaving those whom they called infidels. In
the light which comes to us through the long ages, we can see another
and baser motive which must have actuated these monkish freebooters,
namely, the desire for plunder and to kill, "an appetite which grows by
what it feeds upon." Though they tempered their piratical career with
deeds of chivalry and the outward forms of religious devotion, they
were none the less blood-seeking corsairs. The red flag would have been
more appropriate at the masthead of their vessels than the eight-pointed
cross of St. John. The spirit which had originally given birth to the
order--then well named Hospitallers--had long since been lost sight of.
In Jerusalem, Turk and Pilgrim alike shared their hospitality, and their
model was that of the Good Samaritan. Alas, for the degeneracy that
followed!

The conflict as carried on for centuries by both the Christians and the
Mohammedans was equally characterized by diabolical cruelty, while
tinctured by a spirit of blind fanaticism and religious frenzy. On the
part of the Turks this was a genuine instinct, since they could not
expect, even in the event of victory, to realize anything by way of
remunerative plunder. In regard to the Knights, everything goes to show,
as we have already declared, that religion was used as a convenient
cloak to cover up their questionable purposes. The candid student of
history will, however, honestly admit that there were many and striking
exceptions to this rule. Some of the Grand Masters were undoubtedly
sincere, though they were grossly bigoted. Of this, L'Isle Adam and La
Vallette are striking examples.

Each fresh onslaught between the contending Christians and infidels led
to increased bitterness and a desire for revenge. The terrible courage
and indifference to death evinced by the followers of the crescent were
more than matched by the cool, determined bravery of those who fought
under the banner of the cross. Let the truth be frankly recorded. If the
Turks were guilty of the most barbaric atrocities, and we very well know
that they were, the Knights of St. John were not slow to retaliate in
kind. History tells us that the latter, at the siege of Malta in 1565,
not only decapitated their defenseless prisoners of war upon the
ramparts of the forts, in full sight of the enemy, but afterwards fired
their ghastly heads from mortars, and projected them by other means into
the camp of the besieging army. Alas, for the brutality of warfare,
ancient and modern! Who can forget that English officers professing to
be Christians, during the unsuccessful attempt of the natives of India
to regain their freedom, lashed their living prisoners of war to the
cannon's mouth, and applying the match, blew them into eternity? This
diabolical act, it should be remembered, was perpetrated not by
irresponsible guerrillas, or lawless banditti, but by regular English
army officers, in the nineteenth century. Wild African tribes, the
Maoris of New Zealand, or the cannibals of Fiji could do no worse, while
England poses as representing the highest degree of modern civilization
and refinement. All war involves a greater or less lapse into barbarism.
It was the first Napoleon who uttered the significant saying, born of
his own experience, "The worse the man, the better the soldier!"

But let us endeavor not to diverge too far from the immediate purpose of
these pages.

We were speaking of the peculiar order of the Knights of St. John. The
natives of Malta furnished no members to the ranks of the brotherhood.
They might and did serve effectively as men at arms, and joined in
defensive and offensive warfare as common soldiers. A certain
exclusiveness was always maintained by the fraternity as to admitting
individuals to full membership, it being realized from the outset that
an indiscriminate policy in this respect would tend to belittle the
order and weaken its influence, as well as to introduce an undesirable
element into its ranks. Hundreds of the Maltese were paid auxiliaries of
the different "languages" of the order, and others were volunteers in
fighting for the sacredness of their homes when the Turks invaded the
island. This they did in large numbers during the last memorable siege,
but they were in no sense Knights of St. John. The order proper was
exclusively composed of Europeans, who, before admission to the first
rank of the brotherhood, were obliged to produce indisputable proofs of
nobility of birth, to a degree which varied according to the custom of
the nationality whence they came.

The Grand Masters created a certain rank of nobility among the Maltese,
which was conferred upon individuals for extraordinary considerations,
and for valuable services rendered in behalf of the order, but it is
difficult to discover the advantage of the titles thus bestowed. The
persons thus complimented were not eligible for admission to the
brotherhood, nor was any pecuniary compensation attached. Their
descendants to-day, though they are quite impoverished, are more
tenacious of these empty titles than ever before. The presumption
founded thereon is simply ludicrous to an American. The French, during
their brief sovereignty of the island, abolished by special edict all
titles, but this amounted to nothing, and was soon forgotten. As these
meaningless distinctions descend indiscriminately to all male members of
the family whose progenitor was thus endowed, the prospect is that
titled people will by and by become as plenty here as Maltese oranges,
or the "Legion of Honor" in France.

Remembering the marvelous history of the Knights and their often tragic
taking off, while we stroll through the palace-lined streets of the
capital in the still hours of the night, when the moon throws pale,
suggestive shadows across the squares and street corners presided over
by effigies of saints, one can easily imagine the ghostly, armor-clad
figure of a dead Knight, like Hamlet's father, revisiting its earthly
haunts. If these defunct soldier-monks did not leave ghosts behind them,
the power of such spirits after death must be effete. Every turn and
each surrounding in Valletta, whether in the department of arms or of
art, speaks of the vigorous doings of these many-sided knightly friars.

It was the Grand Master Jean de La Vallette, who founded the charming
capital of Malta, after his murderous but successful repulse of the
infidels in their last attempt to capture the island. Though Vallette
did not live long enough to see it reared to its present attractive
completeness, still the stamp of his genius, as shown in the grandeur of
its architecture, its palaces, churches, hospitals, and fortifications,
is his most lasting and appropriate monument. So rapidly did the
building of the new city progress after it was begun, that it is said to
have been practically completed in six years. To accomplish this,
hundreds of able mechanics and skilled artisans were brought from Italy
and other parts of Europe. If these stones, whose surfaces three
centuries have so wrinkled with age, could but speak, what interesting
facts might be revealed by them to illumine this period of the world's
history! We have famous telescopes which enable us to search out the
characteristics of far-away Mars. Would we could turn one of these giant
lenses upon the olden days in Malta, and obtain a tableau of its history
with photographic fidelity!




CHAPTER III.

      The Maltese Group.--Comino.--Cave Life.--Verdant Gozo.--Isle
      of Filfla.--Curious Lizards.--Loss of an Ironclad.--Mysterious
      Wheel-Tracks.--Earthquakes.--Population.--Military Depot.--
      Youthful Soldiers.--Quarantine.--Arrival of the Knights.--
      Immorality.--Harbor Defenses.--Land Fortifications.--Charming
      Photographic View.--The Stars and Stripes Abroad.--The Eight-
      Pointed Maltese Cross.--Peculiar Sunset Scene.


We speak of Malta in the singular, which is the conventional form;
official documents say Malta and its dependencies, it being the name
which is also most commonly used to designate the capital; but it should
be understood that the Maltese group consists of three considerable
islands, namely, Malta, Gozo, and Comino. The latter lies midway in the
channel which separates the other two. Comino is nearly circular,
measures four miles across its surface, and contains some large and
curious caves, also a fort which was built in 1618. There are a few huts
in which the poor peasants reside, who labor on the soil, and send
fabulous numbers of watermelons to Valletta. It would seem that this
circumscribed bit of earth, or, more properly speaking, rock, breaking
the surface of the Straits of Freghi, was formerly considered to be of
more importance than it is in our day. One ancient author mentions it
under another name, that of Hephaestia, which means the island of Vulcan.
In the Middle Ages Comino was a very nest of Saracen pirates. Up to the
beginning of the present century, the special advantage of the group for
the promotion of illegitimate commerce has been its curse. Malta was the
synonym of piracy from the earliest times,--a reputation which, as we
have seen, the Knights of St. John did nothing to improve. Speaking in
plain terms, they were the most pronounced and successful corsairs who
ever sailed these waters, and were unmolested by the Western Powers
because their piracy was conducted under the pretense of fighting only
the infidels, and in behalf of Christianity. In our day we invade
Central Africa under pretense of suppressing the slave trade; but in the
days of this warlike order, its principal source of income was derived
from the capture of Asiatics, whom the Knights sold into slavery, or
retained in that condition.

There is said to be ample evidence that the numerous caves of Comino
were formerly improved as domestic dwelling-places by the primitive
inhabitants. Their partial inaccessibility probably caused them to be
used as safe retreats when the group was invaded by a foreign enemy.
Where natural caves existed in the early days of our race upon this
earth, they were nearly always utilized as shelter for human beings, and
doubtless artificial ones were created, it being the readiest mode of
obtaining a domestic shelter. The Spanish gipsies of Granada follow this
plan even to-day, on the banks of the swift-flowing Darro, not to speak
in detail of the numerous cliff-dwellers of Behring Strait, where Asia
and America come so nearly together.

There is a cave between Comino and Cominetto, the entrance to which is
accomplished by boat, not without considerable difficulty. When once
within, however, and the eyes become accustomed to the gloom which
pervades the place, the cave is found to open out into proportions of
considerable magnitude. At the further extremity nature has formed a
beautiful little gravelly beach, on which the lazy waves ebb and flow
gracefully and softly. Geologists visit this cavern with much interest,
as the sides teem with the remains of marine creatures which lived and
died in the waters when these islands were gradually undergoing the
process of formation. There are scores of smaller caves on Cominetto,
and also on Comino. It was in the cavernous formations of the south side
of the main island of the Maltese group that Dr. Adams found the
interesting animal remains about which he has written so ably. These
tokens of past ages, concerning which we have no other record, exist in
nearly all parts of the globe. In the Ozark Mountains, near Galena,
Missouri, is a cavern larger than the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, which
has been explored for thirty miles in a nearly straight line. In this
Missouri cave, bones of prehistoric animals have also been found.

It may be said truthfully that there are few places which surpass Malta
in antiquarian interest.

Gozo is about one fifth the size of the main island which gives the
group its name. The circumference of the three islands is a trifle less
than one hundred miles. The shores, much worn and still wearing away by
the ceaseless action of the waters, give evidence of having been
considerably more extended at no distant period of time. Two uninhabited
islets, besides Gozo and Malta proper, complete the list of the group;
these are Cominetto and Filfla. The first, as its name indicates, nearly
joins Comino; the latter, containing the ruins of an ancient stone
church, is situated three or four miles from Malta on its southern side.
It is a very small islet, being only six hundred yards in circumference.
Filfla, from the Arabic word _filfel_, means a peppercorn, and the place
is thus called on account of its diminutive size. The name of each
inlet, headland, and reef along the coast is Arabic.

Besides the islands which we have cited, there are some small rocks,
having sufficient soil upon them to afford a gleam of animal and
vegetable life, but which are rarely if ever trodden by the foot of man.
Sometimes the hardy fishermen spread their nets from the most available;
but this work is generally pursued from boats and at points further from
land. There are certain species of shell-fish, including the patella,
lobsters, and crabs, which so abound on the circumscribed shore of
anvil-shaped Filfla, that fishermen come hither regularly to obtain
them. The phosphorescent jelly-fish, that glow-worm of the sea, lies
upon the surface near the shore in shoals, with here and there a blue
and rose-tinted starfish. The stormy petrel, the manx, and the white
sea-gulls build their nests amid the rocks of Filfla. The gathering of
coral was formerly a successful business hereabouts, but it is now
abandoned as not being sufficiently profitable. Oysters are also found
near the shore, and form a considerable source of food supply for the
common people; but the Mediterranean oyster does not recommend itself to
one accustomed to the superior product in the same line found on the
American coast. This bivalve of the narrow sea is often transported in
considerable quantities inland to Rome, where it does not always prove
harmless to strangers, though the digestive organs of the natives seem
quite able to grapple with it. The author was once seriously poisoned by
eating "oysters on the shell," at Nazzari's famous restaurant, near the
corner of the Via Condotti, in Rome.

As regards this island of Filfla, it gives us a wealth in numbers and an
astonishing variety of forms representing marine life, including sea
anemones, sea urchins, and so on, together with some small shells almost
as lovely as flowers. Men-of-war cruising in these waters use the island
as a target, and fragments of shot and shell consequently abound upon
its surface. Naturalists tell us of a peculiar species of lizard found
on this islet, quite different from anything of the sort to be seen on
the larger islands, "beautiful bronze-black creatures, quite tame, and
much more agile than their brethren on the mainland." So off the harbor
of Bombay, the author has seen on the island of Elephanta remarkable
beetles, unlike any of the species to be found elsewhere. They are
scarcely larger than one's little-finger nail, but nature has clothed
them in harlequin attire, combining golden, steel-blue, and pink. These
tiny creatures have prominent eyes, like a King Charles spaniel, which
seem to gaze at one with something like human intelligence. The question
naturally suggests itself, where can a distinctive species of animal
life have been derived and developed after this fashion, in these
isolated spots? Is this the outcome of some not understood principle of
evolution, beginning as vegetable, and developing into animal life? That
the earth produces the former spontaneously we know, and that it may
gradually, in the course of ages, become endowed with the latter has
been declared possible by scientists. In our museums we see fossil
organisms which exhibit in nearly consecutive order the slow evolution
of both animals and plants. By this means palaeontologists have been able
to connect some of our present mammals, through intermediary forms, with
their tertiary ancestors in primitive conditions.

Leaving the field of conjecture to scientists, let us resume the course
of our Maltese story.

It is believed that at a comparatively modern date, geologically
speaking, the islands of Malta and Gozo were joined together by the
island of Comino. Deep wheel-ruts worn in the rocky surface on the
opposite shores of the two nearest islands, visible even at some
distance under the water, afford what is considered to be unmistakable
evidence that the intervening straits have been formed recently, or that
the sea was once so shallow here as to be easily fordable by wheeled
vehicles. These wheel-tracks are particularly observable at Marfa,
whence passengers take boat for Gozo, but they are also found in other
places, where the connection is wholly obliterated. On the edge of the
shore, to the north of the Bay of Fom-er-Rich, wheel-ruts are to be seen
terminating abruptly at the brink of a cliff one hundred feet high,
which rises sheer from out of the sea. This shows clearly that some
tremendous upheaval, subsidence, or both, must have taken place here
within historic times.

Though the Straits of Freghi are now many fathoms deep, navigation is
somewhat intricate. A first-class British iron-clad was wrecked here in
1889, by striking upon a sunken rock. In very stormy weather
communication between the islands is wholly cut off, but this rarely
occurs. The shore in this vicinity is fringed by long, black, straggling
ledges, the most dangerous portions of which are exposed only in stormy
weather, when the dark, sea-worn rocks raise their heads and stoutly
resist the onslaught of the waves, sending aloft transparent masses of
white spray. When the sun escapes from the clouds and penetrates this
watery ebullition, momentary rainbows bind the moistened atmosphere
together with a lovely arch of prismatic hues.

Careful soundings show that the Maltese group stands upon a submarine
plateau, which stretches entirely across the Mediterranean from Sicily
to Africa, thus dividing the sea into two parts, known to geographers as
the eastern and western basins.

Malta, so far as an unscientific person may speak, shows no signs of
volcanic action, though there is a powerful agent of this character so
near in Sicily. At the present writing AEtna is in a condition of wild
physical turmoil, forming new fissures near its summit, out of which the
much-dreaded fiery lava is flowing rapidly, while the main crater is by
no means idle. Nothing can stem the tide of these rushing rivers of
molten rock, which have cut themselves fresh channels for miles,
extending to the sea. The last outbreak occurred in the early part of
1865, continuing with more or less force for a period of three months.
In 1669, one of these eruptions, besides costing hundreds of human
lives, destroyed twenty-two towns and villages, on its mad course to the
seaport of Catania, where the lava rushed into the Mediterranean in a
stream eighteen hundred feet in width and forty feet in height! This
extraordinary statement is in accordance with the local chronicles of
the time. It was perhaps the most violent and destructive eruption of
which we have any record; many have been slight and harmless. This
latter fact accounts for the hardihood of the Sicilians in continuing to
plant vineyards and farms within reach of this great subterranean
furnace. So the people of Torre del Greco, at the foot of restless
Vesuvius, ignore past experience, and all former outbreaks of the
mountain which destroyed Pompeii.

In the absence of late and reliable statistics upon the subject, the
present population of the Maltese group may be safely assumed as about a
hundred and seventy-five thousand, of which number one half centre in
and about Valletta. Borgo, Senglea, and Burmulo, on the opposite side of
the harbor, eastward from the capital, are populous suburbs of the city,
and contain many well-built stone edifices, but none to compare with
those of the city proper. These suburbs are the residence of an humbler
class of the community than those who live in Valletta. The estimate
which is given above as to the population of the group includes the
English garrison, which seldom amounts to less than six thousand men. A
brigade of infantry is always kept here upon a war footing, known as the
"Indian Contingent." The whole number of troops at the present time, in
and about the capital, is eight thousand of all arms. In case of another
Indian mutiny, which would surely follow an invasion by Russia, England
could draw at once from this source. The troops at Malta would be
already half way toward their objective point, if ordered to Calcutta or
Bombay.

Her Majesty's government also maintains an infantry regiment one
thousand strong, whose ranks are filled by natives of the islands, a
policy which is also adopted to a large extent in India, and more or
less in all English dependencies. Even in Hong Kong, the large body of
men who constitute the local police are Sikhs brought from India for
this special service. They are tall, dark, fine-looking men, with heavy
beards. The Maltese regiment just spoken of is a good-looking body of
well-drilled men, though lacking the _esprit de corps_ of English-born
soldiers. This regiment is officered by Englishmen, and is called the
Royal Maltese Fencibles, being mostly employed to man the outlying forts
of the group.

We may be permitted a few words upon the subject of the garrison of
Malta. One watches with special interest the soldiery of various
nationalities. The author has seen the representatives of the English
army in Egypt, China, Ceylon, Aden, and in all of the colonies of Great
Britain except those of Africa. The men are, on an average, far too
youthful for military service. Such boyish applicants would not pass
examination for enlistment in our American army as we find enrolled in
the English regiments here. Large numbers are under seventeen years.
Even Lord Wolseley, in a late published report, admits this glaring
defect of the British service. In round numbers, the English army
consists of two hundred and ten thousand men of all arms, half of which
number is kept at home, that is, in England, while over seventy thousand
are stationed in India, and thirty-two thousand in various colonies. The
empire of India is an expensive plaything, which the people of Great
Britain support for the amusement of the Queen and the pride of the
nation. The seventy thousand soldiers distributed over that widespread
territory are hardly able to keep the natives in subjection. To
maintain her grasp upon India, as we all know, has cost England rivers
of blood and mountains of treasure, though she has no more legitimate
right to possess the land than she has to Norway and Sweden.

Sweeping pestilence and frequent wars have not seemed to interfere
materially with the rapid increase of the population of Malta.
Visitations of the cholera and the plague have at different times
created great havoc with human life in the group. So late as 1813,
thousands of the inhabitants fell victims to the much-dreaded plague,
brought hither from the East, where the seeds of the scourge seem to be
only slumbering when they are not bringing forth fatal fruit. The local
records of the devastation of the plague in Malta are terribly forlorn,
dreary, and saddening, and characterized by the calmness and dignity of
despair. Since that experience, strict quarantine measures have been
enforced, especially toward vessels coming from Egypt. Many travelers
who have visited this group of islands have been obliged to pass a
fortnight or more in the lazaretto before being permitted to land in the
capital, while others, rather than submit to the trying discipline of
quarantine, have given up their purpose of doing so.

Untraveled readers can hardly realize the discomforts and annoyances
caused by quarantine laws, against the necessity of which no intelligent
person will attempt to argue. Late experience upon our own coast,
especially in New York harbor, proves not only their importance, but
also their efficacy, though they sometimes, in individual cases, operate
with seemingly unnecessary hardship. Sir Walter Scott, in describing his
detention at the lazaretto in Malta, tells us of an accident which
occurred, illustrating the rigid enforcement of quarantine rules. It
seems that a foremast hand on board the ship which had brought him
hither fell from the yardarm into the sea. The fellow struggled
manfully, being a good swimmer. Several native boats, which were near at
hand, promptly steered in another direction, but an English boat's crew,
belonging to a ship in the harbor, pulled as swiftly as possible towards
the struggling seaman and rescued him from the water. For this act of
humanity, the boat's crew was ordered into quarantine for a week. By
saving the life of the sailor who had fallen from the ship which was in
quarantine, they had run the risk of contamination!

On one occasion, while in South America, it was the author's misfortune
to be at Rio Janeiro when the yellow fever was raging there. He was
bound southward to Montevideo, but no ship going thither would receive
passengers, lest the vessel should be quarantined. Passage was therefore
taken northward to Bahia, Brazil, which was not a prohibited port,
though yellow fever was found to exist there, also. Thence the Pacific
Mail Steamship took us south again to the mouth of the Plate
River,--_Rio de la Plata_,--passing, but not entering, the harbor of
Rio. Thus one was compelled to travel by sea over two thousand miles
for no possible purpose save to avoid being quarantined at Montevideo.

The cholera swept away several thousands of the Maltese in 1837, again
in 1853, and once more so late as 1887. It will be observed that there
exists a serious drawback in the location of the group. It is so
situated, midway between the East and the West, as to be the victim of
all such epidemics as are liable to be conveyed through the ordinary
channels of commerce.

When the Knights of St. John first landed in Malta there were but twelve
thousand inhabitants here. The Knights were soon followed by a
considerable number of their former subjects in Rhodes, many of whom
had, like themselves, been wanderers since they were driven from that
island by the Turks. The order was still popular and wealthy, enjoying a
princely revenue from various continental sources, as well as from the
rich prizes which they constantly captured from the Ottomans, from
roving Greeks, and from Barbary pirates. The proceeds of these captures
were expended with a lavish hand among the Maltese people, diffusing
plenty and comfort throughout the islands. This material prosperity soon
stimulated immigration from various Mediterranean ports, and called home
many who had endeavored to improve their fortunes by seeking occupation
elsewhere. The natives were treated with great liberality by their
monkish rulers. No taxes were demanded of them, while they were in
constant receipt of money from the plethoric treasury of the Knights.
There was occupation for all, and fair remuneration for the same. Never
before, as far as we know, had the sunshine of prosperity so smiled upon
these isolated shores. The period to which we refer is regarded as the
golden age of Maltese history. The most intelligent of the present
inhabitants are never tired of referring to the period when the white
cross of St. John floated proudly over the castle of St. Elmo.

It was indeed the golden age, speaking in a worldly sense, but not in a
spiritual one; yet the average Maltese not only sympathizes with the
profession of these Knights, but even indorses their daily lives, public
and private, which would not bear for one moment the conventional test
of our modern civilization. It would seem as though the virtue and honor
of Maltese wives and daughters counted for nothing, in this wholesale
opinion of the period covered by the sovereignty of the order, and that
the natives of that day ignored all sense of self-respect in their
estimate of the value of pecuniary prosperity as compared with the
sacredness of domestic purity. Women were bartered for like merchandise;
personal attractions formed the criterion of their market value, while
there was not even the pretense on the part of the Knights of keeping
their priestly vows as celibates, by which every member of the
fraternity of St. John was supposed to be bound. Women came voluntarily
and openly from Italy, France, Spain, and England to trade upon their
charms, added to whose number were those of their sex captured from the
harems of the Mohammedans. Among the native women, little regard was
paid to marital ties, and virtue among them was scarcely a recognized
idea. We may be sure that the vile example set before them by those to
whom they were taught to look up as their superiors was not without its
evil influence. Lewdness is as contagious as typhus fever, and vice
spreads like oil upon the water. We penetrate uncivilized countries and
affiliate with barbaric tribes, who, following some strange instinct of
the race, promptly adopt our vices, but are slow to imitate such of the
virtues as we assume, if we have them not. It is not pleasant to dwell
upon such a theme, but contemporary writers tell us that these islands
became the scandal of Europe, and the popular resort of titled
libertines, many of whom joined the Knights, who were then at the height
of their material prosperity.

Let us draw the curtain upon such matters, which have necessarily been
considered, and turn to such as are more attractive. Of these we shall
find a teeming abundance from which to choose in this _Fior del Mondo_.

The charmingly picturesque capital, Valletta, surrounded at all times by
a quaint Oriental atmosphere, lies on the north shore of the island, at
its nearest point to Sicily, upon a promontory extending a considerable
distance into the bay. For the sake of completeness, its exact position
is given: longitude 14 deg. 31'; latitude 35 deg. 53' north. The port
consists of two spacious land-locked bays, known as Quarantine Harbor
and Grand Harbor. The entrance to both is commanded by the massive white
battlements of Fort St. Elmo, supplemented by Fort Ricasoli on the one
hand, and Fort Tigne on the other. Each of the three fortifications now
bristles with threatening cannon of modern construction,--"the
red-mouthed orators of war." The two harbors, forming a double port, are
each subdivided into small bays, creeks, and indentures, which are well
adapted to naval and commercial purposes, for which they are improved,
all being embraced within the elaborate lines of the marine
fortifications.

Grand Harbor contains the naval hospital, arsenal, dock-yard, and
custom-house, with Fort St. Angelo inside and Fort Ricasoli at the
entrance. Quarantine Harbor has at its mouth Fort Tigne, while within is
Fort Mangel and Lazaretto Island. The landing designed for the mail
steamships is also here. The lazaretto is the most perfect of any
arrangement of the kind in Europe. The tongue of land upon which the
city stands is a narrow, rocky peninsula, dividing, as we have said, the
two harbors, so that Fort Ricasoli at the entrance of Grand Harbor, Fort
St. Elmo upon the point of the peninsula, and Fort Tigne at the mouth of
Quarantine Harbor are all on a line at the sea front, and are capable of
repelling the approach of any ship afloat. A bird's-eye view of the
topography of the port of Valletta is at first a little confusing to a
stranger, but its plan soon becomes clear, and the object of its
arrangement is realized. It is then seen that the natural facilities
have been admirably adapted to the general purpose by skilled engineers.
We do not hesitate to say that there is not a more complete system of
fortifications extant, in any part of the world, than the cordon of
defensive structures at Malta. The forts of the harbor, however, form
but a portion of the vast system of fortifications which completely
surround Valletta. Such a gigantic amount of heavy stone-work as they
represent could only be erected where the material was abundant and the
labor cheap. The stone excavated in sinking the deep ditches was used in
raising the escarps; and as to the necessary labor, that was done by the
army of slaves retained on the island by the Knights. When they were not
confined at the oars of the galleys, they were compelled to labor in
erecting these elaborate defenses. Like the Egyptian builders of the
Pyramids, the order was obliged to feed these workmen; but beyond that
expense their services cost nothing.

While the Maltese capital bears, appropriately, the name of the Grand
Master who originated and promoted its construction, these defensive
works, so remarkable and so perfect in their character from a soldier's
point of view, should perpetuate the name of Jerome Cassan, the
accomplished engineer of the order, who designed them, and under whose
able superintendence they were erected. No wonder they call forth the
admiration of all military officers who visit the place. Immense sums of
money and incalculable toil were lavished upon the undertaking,
regardless of any probable necessity for the expenditure. So far as the
science of military defense goes, it would seem as though perfection had
been reached when Chevalier Cassan finished his original plans; but each
new Grand Master of the Knights seems to have thought it to be his duty
to increase the number of forts, giving to the addition his own name, by
which each section thus constructed is still known. Exposed points on
the coast of both Malta and Gozo were fortified from time to time, until
there were no unprotected bays or inlets left. For centuries before this
was done, piratical invasions were frequently made by small Algerine or
Turkish expeditions landing at unfortified points. A score or two of
armed men were able to ravage a whole district, and carry off half a
hundred families to be sold into slavery. The Turkish and Algerine war
fleets were almost entirely manned at the oars by captives thus secured.

When these soldier-priests first took possession of the islands, there
was but one fort at Malta, namely, that of St. Angelo, which hardly
deserved to be called a fort. To-day, as we have shown, there is no
unprotected point on the entire coast line of the group. Modern
instruments of warfare have revolutionized the requirements of defensive
works, and many of these elaborate structures, it must be admitted, are
hardly appropriate to our times. Malta is the equal of Gibraltar in a
military point of view, though the fortifications of neither are
absolutely impregnable. Of the latter, it may be said that nature
prepared the place for man's adaptation; but as regards the former, art
alone has produced an unequaled amphitheatre of fortifications. On the
land side Valletta is protected by a labyrinth of marvelous ditches and
ramparts, many of which are cut out of the solid rock, besides having
vast chambers, or caves, of the same substantial character, designed for
the safe storage of grain in anticipation of the place being besieged.
These rock-hewn caves are so arranged that they can be hermetically
sealed. It is said that they will preserve grain in perfect condition
for a score of years. A quantity of provisions is always kept stored in
these receptacles for the use of the garrison, and to meet any sudden
emergency, the same policy being adopted at Gibraltar and Aden. The
warfare of our day, however, admits of no protracted sieges. Such a
struggle as took place before Sebastopol, not very long ago, could not
be sustained between two powers with the present means of destruction
possessed by both parties. In the future, conflicts will be short and
decisive. If anything relating to warfare can be merciful, the sharpest
and shortest process is most so. Lingering contests entail such terrible
consequent ills that they bring with them sufferings paramount to those
caused by the conflict of arms. "The next saddest thing in war to a
defeat is a victory," said Wellington, as he looked sorrowfully upon the
field which he had won by a fearful sacrifice of human life at San
Sebastian.

The two excellent harbors of Valletta might afford anchorage for six
hundred ships of war, as they have bold, well-defined shores, and an
average depth of ten fathoms. This was not so originally, but is the
result of a thorough system of dredging, which has been faithfully
completed.

As we look upon the scene from an elevated point, beneath the afternoon
sun, while freely inhaling the lotus-like air of the Mediterranean,
everything is serene and lovely. Over the terraced roofs of Valletta
rises the square tower of the Grand Palace, gay with many  signal
flags. Across the harbor the eye rests upon Fort Ricasoli, and here
stands stout old St. Elmo, while in the distance Fort San Rocco crowns a
hilltop. Much nearer is Fort St. Angelo, with its record of a thousand
years and more. The numerous domes and towers of the city, though they
are not minarets, have much the same Oriental effect upon the eye.
Myriads of small boats, painted in bright, fanciful colors after the
florid Maltese style, and having canvas coverings sheltering the stern,
shoot hither and thither like birds upon the wing. The boatmen stand
while rowing, as do the oarsmen of the Venetian gondolas, pushing, not
pulling, at the oars. Hundreds of small feluccas line the shore. A group
of fishermen in rude but picturesque costumes are landing the product of
their industry. Half a dozen ships belonging to the British navy, and as
many huge mail steamers, swing lazily at anchor, while little erratic
steam launches dart back and forth from ship to shore; a memorable
picture, the sea and sky being its appropriate frame. French, German,
Italian, and English flags indicate the nationality of the several
vessels, but the eye searches in vain for the stars and stripes of our
Union. The same absence of the American flag is only too observable
throughout nearly all the ports of the Mediterranean and the far East.
The home-keeping citizen who reads these lines can hardly realize the
patriotic sensation mingled with dire homesickness which thrills the
traveler, long absent from his native land, at sight of our beloved
national emblem proudly expanding its folds upon a foreign shore.

We look in vain for one other significant flag, that of the
eight-pointed cross, which for centuries waved over these battlements as
the sacred banner of the Knights of St. John, the token of their
religious faith and their resolve to conquer or to die, which led them
in the van of battle at Jerusalem, at Acre, and at Rhodes, and under
which they slaughtered the besieging enemy by thousands beneath the wall
of Malta; the gallant flag which so often flashed defiance before the
eyes of sanguinary Turks, treacherous Greeks, and rapacious Algerines
upon the sea; the flag, alas! which was lowered in disgrace, in 1798,
without the firing of a single shot in its defense, to give place to the
tricolor of France, and to acknowledge the mastership of Bonaparte. This
was an act of cowardice equaled only by that of the arch-traitor
Bazaine, who shamefully surrendered a whole army at Metz which was
perfectly capable of winning a signal victory over the Germans, if it
had been led against them by a brave general. The world knows how that
dastard poltroon was tried and punished for his treason, as well as of
his miserable subsequent life and unregretted death in a foreign land.

To return to the Knights of St. John. This act of treachery--the
surrender of Valletta to the French--was virtually the end of the famous
order; the dying hour, as it were, of a brotherhood which had for
hundreds of years defied the whole Ottoman power almost single handed,
and whose members, as chivalrous knights, won the respect of
Christendom.

One often reads of the great beauty of the sunset as enjoyed upon this
group, and we cheerfully bear witness to the fact that this phenomenon
of nature is justly eulogized. Writers are apt to grow enthusiastic over
Italian sunsets, especially along the Riviera; but the author, who has
seen this diurnal exhibition in all parts of the globe, can truly say he
has nowhere witnessed it surrounded by more beauty and grandeur of
effect than in our own beloved land. Bostonians who possess an
appreciative eye for the loveliness of cloud and sky effect, have seen
at the closing of day, looking westward over the Charles River, as
glorious exhibitions of the sunset hour as any part of the world can
boast. As to the beauty of the afterglow, the lingering twilight of New
England, "whose mantle is the drapery of dreams," it can be excelled in
no land in either hemisphere. In the enthusiasm of the moment, while on
the Yellow Sea of China, the author gave precedence, in his published
notes, to the remarkable sunsets which characterize that region; but in
this soberer moment a calmer conviction is honestly recorded. Still, the
quivering flame that seemed to burn like lava on the line where sky and
ocean met, the iris hues softly reflected by the vapory tissue of clouds
in the opposite expanse, and the gorgeous robes in which the on-coming
night was wrapped that December evening upon the Yellow Sea, can never
be forgotten by any one who witnessed it.

On the disappearance of the sun beneath the Mediterranean at Malta, as
soon as the opal fires have burned out of the sky, light clouds usually
fringe the horizon, emitting rapid flashes of lightning which continue
for hours, recalling the Aurora Borealis as seen at Bodoee and Tromsoee,
in Norway. There is no lasting twilight in this latitude. Night follows
close upon the footsteps of the departing day. The brightness of the
stars supervenes so quickly after the curtain falls upon the scene, and
the mellow evening atmosphere is so clear, that the twilight is hardly
missed by the watchful observer, as the Spirit of the night, upon dewy
sandals, begins her course of the circling hours.




CHAPTER IV.

      The Soil of Malta.--Imports and Exports.--Absence of
      Trees.--Equable Climate.--Three Crops Annually.--Use of
      Fertilizers.--Ignorant and Pious Peasantry.--Food of the
      People.--Maltese Women.--Oriental Customs.--Roman Catholic
      Influence.--Improvisation.--Early Marriages.--A Resort for
      the Pope.--Low Wages.--Beggars.--Wind Storms.--Blood Oranges.
      --The Carob-Tree.--Maltese Lace.--Sailing along the Shore.


It has already been mentioned that a large portion of the island of
Malta is covered with a thin, rich soil, some of which, it is said, was
brought from Sicily at infinite cost and labor. If this is so, of which
we have reasonable doubts, it was done only to a very limited extent.
Vessels sailing hence with merchandise for the mainland or Sicily,
having no return cargo, may have occasionally brought back as ballast
quantities of earth, but that there was ever any systematic importation
of soil is not probable. Much of the surface of the island is still only
bare, calcareous stone, exposed to the fierce winds, rains, and
scorching sunshine. A process of disintegration is constantly going on
which gradually reduces this surface rock to friable matter, and as soon
as a space becomes favorable in its conditions by such means it is
promptly improved by the natives for agricultural purposes. The
extraordinary success which crowns the husbandman's efforts is the
triumph of industry over natural obstacles. All soil is but broken and
decomposed rock, pulverized by various agencies acting during long
periods of time, counting centuries as days. The molten lava poured from
the fiery mouth of Vesuvius has, in the course of ages, become the soil
of thriving vineyards at Resina and Castellamare. The Bahama Islands,
composed originally of coral and limestone, have, during the lapse of
centuries, become such fertile soil at the surface as to nourish the
royal palm, the orange, and the banana, together with the stout-limbed
ceiba and the most delicate fruits of the tropics. It should be
remembered, also, that vegetation does not depend alone upon the soil
for its life and fruitfulness. Like human beings, it borrows vitality
from the rain and atmospheric air.

This Maltese soil must be of a very prolific nature, and contain hidden
properties which stimulate plant life beyond comparison, to furnish the
means of support for so large a number of inhabitants in so
circumscribed a space. It is true that cattle, sheep, and grain are
regularly imported for the consumption of the garrison and the people,
as the island does not yield sufficient meat and breadstuff for the
support of the population; but other products which are raised here and
exported go far towards balancing the deficiency, by the grain and other
needed supplies which they purchase in return. Two articles, salt and
soda, are produced upon the island and exported in considerable
quantities, the annual income from which reaches a large aggregate sum.
The early potatoes which are grown in several districts of these
islands are of a very choice character, commanding a special market in
England, and realizing good prices. So the Atlantic cities on the
American coast depend upon Bermuda for their early supply of the same
article. Where the ground is not cultivated, wild-growing masses of the
prickly pear often form a feature of the landscape, while the almost
entire absence of trees in the larger island, outside of the city,
creates an arid appearance. The charming color and grateful shade which
are afforded by groves is almost entirely wanting. Neither art nor
nature can produce an effective landscape without their aid. Where the
land is carefully improved, it is not unusual to realize three crops
annually from the same ground, by a timely succession of seeds. It is
the common practice to follow the harvesting of a grain crop by
immediately planting the same field with cotton. This last article has
long been an established product of Malta, where it is believed to be
indigenous. The islands produce two kinds of cotton, one of which is
pure white, the other of a yellowish brown, both having a staple
combining length and silkiness in a peculiar degree. It will thus be
seen that the capacity of the soil and climate is very comprehensive,
and it is interesting to know that there are over sixty thousand acres
of land under cultivation in Malta at the present writing.

The climate is so equable and mild that there is no sterile period of
the year, no unproductive month in the twelve. Every division of the
season has its special vegetation and its fragrant flowers, thus
rendering the reign of floral beauty ceaseless. March and April,
however, are the months which present the most luxuriant phase of
vegetation in this latitude. Though Malta lies much farther south than
Naples, the heat of summer is not so intense there as it is in southern
Italy. The plants which are so liberally displayed in the balconies of
the dwellings require no shelter all the year round. Thus at all times
striking bits of color line the second stories of the houses upon the
Strada Reale. It will depend somewhat upon the stranger's fancy whether
he is attracted by these beautiful flowers, so vivid in color, or by the
graceful forms, the lovely olive-hued faces, and appealing eyes, which
are half hidden behind them, like screened batteries. One cannot closely
observe the use of the Maltese hood, presumedly the insignia of modesty,
without becoming convinced that it serves in no small degree the same
purpose as the Spanish fan in the hands of an accomplished Andalusian
woman.

The obtaining of three crops annually from the same field is not only
remarkable in itself, but is also significant of the prevailing industry
of the Maltese, as well as of the fertility of the soil and the
propitiousness of the climate for agricultural enterprise. It is
observed that in sheltered places, where the soil is quite neglected by
the hand of man, nature exhibits often a wanton luxuriance of vegetable
growth almost tropical. Another obvious reason for this marked
fertility of the cultivated soil should be mentioned, namely, that the
natives understand and fully appreciate the great value of manure, which
no artificial fertilizer can equal in permanent results. Like the
Chinese, the people here achieve excellent returns in agriculture by
deserving them. The most unwilling soil will succumb to such persevering
and intelligent treatment. The careful collection and application of
domestic refuse to the land is systematically pursued by the farmers,
which process is conducive to cleanliness and health as well as to good
husbandry, thus serving a twofold purpose.

Were the same liberal use of easily obtained enrichment, together with a
system of irrigation (also well understood in Malta), to be applied to
our constantly abandoned farms in New England, we should hear much less
grumbling as regards their sterility, while the returns which would be
realized in the shape of an ample harvest would liberally compensate for
all cost of time and labor. There is no zone where nature will do
everything for man; his work upon the farm is only begun with the
planting of the seed. The fact is, many of our farmers work on the
principle of the Kodak man,--"You touch the button, and we do the rest."
Sitting down in indolence and despair, such men wonder that their
utterly neglected lands do not yield better crops, talking the while
about rich fields and virgin soil which are supposed to exist somewhere,
far away in Utopia.

Until the author visited Malta, he thought that the British island of
Barbadoes, the farthest windward of the West Indian group, was the most
densely populated spot on the globe, but here we find human beings
numbering over thirteen hundred to the productive square mile. One
intelligent statistician places the population at fourteen hundred, but
the first estimate is quite extraordinary enough. As a matter of
comparison, it may be mentioned that the population of England averages
three hundred souls to a similar space. The steady increase of the
people in numbers speaks well for the average health of Malta, on whose
dry soil and in whose usually pure air children thrive and adults live
to an extreme old age. The residents have a saying that invalids are
obliged to go away to Nice or Mentone, on the mainland, to die, since no
one shuffles off this mortal coil by natural means in Malta. There is
certainly nothing in the local conditions or in the geographical
position to generate any sort of malady. No vegetable matter is
permitted to decompose, nor are objectionable substances allowed to
remain aboveground. Malta no doubt has its drawbacks, but its climate,
as a rule, is very healthy. "Malta healthy?" responded a local physician
to our inquiry. "Why, we professionals are simply starved out for want
of practice." "How about the plague and the cholera?" we asked. "Ah, an
occasional visit of that sort occurs, to be sure, at wide intervals,
otherwise our occupation would be gone." He added, "All the world is
liable to such visitations; but as to the general healthfulness of this
island, no one can justly find fault." Such is probably the truth.
English physicians continue to send certain classes of their patients
hither regularly.

The men one meets outside of the city, in and about the villages,
engaged upon the land, or otherwise, form a hardy, swarthy, and capable
race,--industrious, ignorant, and very pious. These men, on an average,
are not quite so tall as those of North America, but they are strong,
broad-shouldered, frugal, and honest, with a decided Moorish cast of
countenance, whose usual expression is a compound of apathy and
dejection. That the Maltese are a temperate people is very plain.
Drunkenness is scarcely ever to be met with even in the humbler portions
of the capital, or along the shores of the harbor, where seamen
congregate, and where every facility for indulgence is easily
procurable. It is but fair to say that sobriety of habit is the rule
among the common classes of the people. In the rural districts great
simplicity of life prevails. Vegetable diet is almost universal, varied
by an occasional meal of fish. Meat is much more costly, and is seldom
indulged in by ordinary people, in town or country. Fish, which abounds
along the shore, is both cheap and nourishing. Shell-fish, especially,
are a favorite food in Malta. We say meat is costly; it is only so, as
compared with the means of the common people, and the amount of money
they realize in the form of wages. Beef sells in the market here at
about the same price as is charged in our Atlantic cities. Considerable
mutton is raised in the group, but the beef which is used for food
purposes is nearly all brought from over the sea, the larger portion
coming from the Barbary coast. As regards the cost of living at Malta,
that depends so much upon individual requirements that no general rule
applies, but it is certainly considerably less expensive than at either
Nice or Cannes.

A certain inclination for seclusion is observable among the Maltese
women in all parts of the group. They are rarely, if ever, seen abroad
with their husbands. Their predilection for indoor life is pronounced,
and when hastening to morning mass through the streets of Valletta, the
shielding black hood is always in requisition, unrelieved by a touch of
bright or cheerful color. The general effect is nun-like and funereal.
There is an axiom current here to the effect that "A woman should never
appear abroad but twice,--on the day of her marriage, and that of her
funeral." This sentiment emphasises in a degree the fact of the Eastern
origin of the people. No such absolute seclusion as this saying implies
is, however, observed here. Though the faldetta is universally worn,
still, as we have already intimated, many women use it in so coquettish
a manner that they not only expose their pretty faces, but they also
manage to see all that goes on about them. The average woman is very
much the same, whether in Cairo, on the Strada Reale, Malta, or on the
Champs Elysees,--whether in the atmosphere of the Mediterranean, or on
the banks of the Seine. The semi-Oriental custom of the sex, as observed
in these islands, is doubtless a relic of their association with and
descent from the Mohammedans. As they neither use nor understand a word
of any language except Maltese Arabic, it is of course impossible for a
stranger to hold conversation with them. One would have to speak, not
Turkish, but Maltese Arabic, to do so.

The land in Malta is universally terraced on the side-hills. This method
serves a double purpose: that of beautifying the landscape, while it
secures the soil in its proper place, as one sees it in Switzerland or
on the Rhine. Being of a spongy nature, the soil retains the moisture
for a long time, thus insuring fertility. Though there are long periods
during which no rain falls, little trouble is realized from drought. The
ownership of the land is about equally divided between the English
government, the church, and two or three thousand farming proprietors.
The Roman Catholic institution is the same leech upon the common people
here that it proves to be on the mainland and in European countries,
keeping the ignorant, superstitious class in indigence by taxing its
individual members up to the last point of endurance, and beclouding
their humble mental capacity. How else could a swarming tribe of useless
non-producers like the priesthood be supported in well-fed, sensual
idleness, and the costly ornamentation and ceremonies of the church be
maintained? There is said to be a priest for every thirty families in
the group, men who are intensely bigoted and ridiculously ignorant
outside of their professional routine, but who are the apt tools of more
able personages who hold higher positions in the church. They are ever
ready to show their credulous parishioners pieces of the true cross and
other sham relics "to whet their almost blunted appetite." Yet it may be
doubted if these cunning Maltese agents of the Romish church could go
any further in this direction than was lately done by a priest of the
same denomination in the city of New York, who pretended to exhibit for
worship a bone from the body of St. Anne, mother of the Virgin Mary,
which anxious hundreds of deluded people were "permitted" to kneel down
and kiss!

Do not let us talk any more about idol worship among the Fiji tribes or
the people of "Darkest Africa," while we have in our midst such
barefaced trickery under the veil of religion.

The humble owners of the land in Malta, as we have tried to show, are
naturally a thrifty, hard-working people, neither rich nor poor. The
reader would be surprised to see how much of seeming plenty, comfort,
and contentment exists among these sturdy natives under such adverse
circumstances. Notwithstanding their uncultured condition, the lowly
country people have a genius for poetry; indeed, all Eastern tribes who
speak the Arabic tongue are thus endowed. This talent finds expression
in a sort of improvisation, by which means two persons will hold earnest
converse with each other, asserting and denying in something very like
epic poetry. They chant their words in a wild, Maltese sing-song, which
appear exactly to accord one with the other, though the music seems to
be equally improvised with the ideas of the singer. However
unconventional the words and the music may be, there is still a certain
rude harmony in both, evidently animated now and then by gorgeous gleams
of fancy.

These Maltese are a prolific race, marry quite young, rear large
families, and are very fond of their children. Brides only thirteen
years of age are common among the working classes. It is a touching
sight to watch these childlike mothers with a crude instinct gently
fondling their tiny babes,--dolls, we were about to write. It recalled
far-away Japan, where the daily life of the humbler classes presents
similar domestic tableaux. Japan is a land of babies, where the annual
crop is marvelously sure. In both instances, these youthful mothers, as
may naturally be supposed, grow old in appearance at a comparatively
early age. It requires no prophet to declare that premature maternity
entails premature old age.

We do not intend to convey the idea that ignorance and its natural
consequences do not prevail among the Maltese peasantry, when we say
that there is much of seeming comfort and contentment to be found among
them. As an average class, these children of the soil exhibit only too
clearly their want of culture and intelligence. The priests oppose all
efforts to improve them by schools. Education is virtually tabooed by
the church, it being held that devotion to the Roman Catholic religion
is all that is necessary for their spiritual or earthly welfare. Said a
famous English general: "Thinking bayonets are dangerous. What we
require in a soldier is a machine that knows just enough to obey
orders." So it is with the followers of the Roman Catholic faith; people
who can read and reason for themselves are "dangerous," so far as
putting trust in that bigoted creed is concerned. What the church
requires is machines which will obey orders, and yield up their
hard-earned wages to support the priesthood and the regal Romish palace
of the Pope at Rome. Any unprejudiced observant traveler in Spain,
Italy, Mexico, or South America will bear witness to the truth of this
statement. Not one twentieth of the inhabitants of this Maltese group
can read and write. In populous, overcrowded China, eight tenths of the
inhabitants can read and write, and yet the Western nations look upon
them as semi-barbarians.

Can any one indicate another people on the globe, eight tenths of whom
can read and write? Education is not only compulsory, but it is the only
stepping-stone to high preferment in the civil service of the
government. Our venal politicians would do well to profit by the example
of China.

It will be remembered in this connection that since the suppression of
the Pope's temporal power in Italy Malta has been looked upon as a
possible future residence for the head of the Romish church. An
influential section of the councils of the Vatican has favored the
idea, and it would seem to be well suited for the purpose. Were this to
occur, Malta would eventually become the Mecca of Catholicism. We may
not expect to see such a change brought about in our day; if it should
ever happen, it would add but one more to the strange vicissitudes in
the history of Malta.

The wages paid to ordinary laborers in these islands are insignificant
in amount, though there has been an improvement in this respect during
the last decade. Boatmen in the harbor demand but nine-pence, English
money, for rowing a person to or from a ship lying a quarter of a mile
from the landing. Equally moderate terms prevail for pleasure
excursions, according to the service and the time occupied. Women
employed in field labor receive twenty-five cents per day, and men one
third more. The P. & O. Steamship Company pay to colliers half a dollar
a day; the same men get forty cents per day at the wharves. Blacksmiths,
carpenters, stonemasons, boat-builders, and sail-makers rarely earn more
than seventy-five cents per day. The drivers of the street vehicles in
Valletta are quite reasonable in their demands, and a shilling will pay
one's fare to any part of the city. The little one-horse vehicles called
_carrozzellas_ are well adapted to their purpose.

The same economic conditions are found here as prevail in India and
China. The multiplicity of seekers for employment keeps the prices which
are paid for services at a minimum rate. So, in over-populated
Barbadoes, a plantation hand can earn but twenty-five cents for a day's
work continued through ten hours. To be sure, that sum will more than
feed him; and as to clothes and shelter, these are of secondary
consideration in the tropics, where only conventional ideas require the
native race to wear clothes of any sort. Idlers swarm about the landings
and in the open squares of Valletta, who, it would seem, might be better
employed upon the soil inland. An organized effort of capital and
official influence to this end would accomplish the object, and render
many a square mile of the now sterile ground not only beautiful to the
eye, but also exuberantly productive. All over the civilized world the
most useless and idle portion of the people leave comparatively
comfortable homes in the country, where at least good food and shelter
can nearly always be earned, to crowd into cities, attracted thither by
the glamour of vice and fast life which always prevails more or less in
populous centres.

The arrival of a P. & O. steamship in the harbor of Malta, with a goodly
number of passengers bound either east or west, is a harvest time for
the beggars, who know very well how to challenge the generosity of
strangers. They have made a careful study of the business; they have
elevated it, as De Quincey would say, to the dignity of a fine art. The
"Nix Mangare Stairs" of Valletta are the congregating place of an army
of mendicants of every species, men, women, and children, who exhibit
all manner of deformities, both real and artificial, as well as every
grade of dirt and squalor. In landing and making one's way up to the
main thoroughfare of the city, it is necessary to run the gauntlet of
this horde of poverty-stricken people. At the base of these "nothing to
eat stairs," the longshoremen and fishermen also congregate. It was just
here that Midshipman Easy and his companion procured the boat in which
they escaped after the "triangular duel." The evil odors permeating the
atmosphere in the vicinity are what might be expected from a people
reveling in garlic and eschewing soap. The daily food of the class one
sees in this section of the city is a slice of black bread and a raw
onion. The traveler's disgust and sympathy are both wrought upon to an
extreme degree, while amid all the clamor and whining appeals the
practiced eye pauses for a moment to note the picturesqueness of mingled
colors and of ragged humanity. The same recalls to mind the broad stone
steps leading up to the Capo di Monti from the Piazza di Spagna, in
Rome, where the artists' models assemble, clothed in a "congress" of
colors.

When it is remembered that the violence of the winds which sometimes
blow over these islands is such that in any other part of the world they
would be called hurricanes, the successful results achieved by the
Maltese gardeners and agriculturists appear more surprising. In order to
furnish protection from these fierce winds, high and solid stone walls
surround every grain, vegetable, and fruit field, all of which are
purposely made small in area. These yellow walls, wearisome, monotonous,
and unlovely to the eye, are often ten feet in height, not only
sheltering, but also hiding vegetation, so that when the island is first
observed from on shipboard, while a few miles away, it appears like a
huge stone quarry. Nothing could possibly seem more uninviting. Under
these circumstances, scarcely a tree or shrub of any sort is visible,
with the exception of an occasional slim and solemn-looking cypress, or
a straggling old olive-tree raising its isolated and twisted head above
the arid rocks. Some of these walls are redeemed from utter dreariness
by the pendulous cactus which hangs from their tops, fringed with yellow
bloom. It is a strange though common plant, consisting of a succession
of bulbous formations, quite flat and an inch or more thick, which serve
the double purpose of stalk and leaves. The incurious traveler is thus
impressed, by these screening walls, with an incorrect idea of the true
nature of the island.

A passenger once said, in our hearing, replying to a friendly query:
"No, I did not land at Malta, and had no desire to do so. It is nothing
but a bare rock, with a few dwelling-houses inside of big lines of
fortifications. I saw quite enough of its barrenness from the deck of
our ship to disenchant me."

How mistaken was this superficial estimate! One would think that the
most prosaic passenger would wish to know more of the builders, and the
monuments they have left behind them, in the stately city beneath whose
stupendous ramparts the ship lies anchored. Let us chaperon the reader,
so that he shall entertain no such unwarranted impression of this Queen
of the Mediterranean.

Malta is particularly beautiful when seen from the Valletta side. At
first, while distance intervenes, the city, softly limned against the
azure sky, seems like some phantom mirage; but soon the picture, rapidly
growing in distinctness, becomes clear in detail. The grim, defiant, and
almost endless fortifications, the many-domed and terraced city, the
grand and lofty stone warehouses, the great war-ships surrounded by
lesser commercial craft, all gayly decorated with national emblems,
combine to form a picture long to be remembered, while the island is
girt by a sapphire sea of purest blue, reaching far away to the
horizon,--such a blue as is sometimes reflected in the eyes of very
young children, or seen in wood-violets just opening their petals to the
light. One should approach the place with a kindly purpose, and not
harshly repel the happy suggestions of the moment. If we would find
picturesqueness and beauty anywhere, we must bring with us a reasonable
degree of appreciation. It is the softened soul which receives
delightful and enduring impressions. One pities the man who can travel
from Dan to Beersheba and say, "All is barren," while we sympathize and
rejoice exceedingly with him who finds "sermons in stones and good in
everything."

A close inspection of Malta will undeceive any one as to its being a
sterile spot. Grapes, melons, figs, oranges,--almost equal to those of
Bahia, in Brazil,--lemons, peaches, apples, and pears, besides many
other kinds of fruits and berries, are raised here in abundance.
Gardening is brought to a high state of perfection; the closest
observation reveals no weeds. It is plain that the husbandmen are
familiar with toil and endurance. The small but prolific vineyards are
charming to look upon, though it must be admitted that the Maltese
grapes are not of the best sort for wine-making. The wine in common use
here is imported from Sicily and southern Italy. Comparatively little
fermented liquor of any sort is consumed by the natives. Grapes are
usually eaten in their natural condition, when sufficiently ripe, but
they are not so plentiful as to form a portion of the food supply of the
populace at certain seasons, as is the case in Switzerland and the south
of France. The blood orange is grown in the vicinity of Valletta in
great perfection, being propagated by grafting a slip of the ordinary
fruit tree upon a pomegranate stem. The color of the pulp of the fruit
thus produced inclines to that of the adopted tree; hence its expressive
name. This luscious orange, even in Malta, where it abounds, sells for a
higher price than the ordinary fruit. In Florida we have large and
productive orange groves, but they are the result of infinite care and
intelligent methods. Here in Malta the orange seems to grow after its
own sweet will, requiring but very little attention from the period of
the fragrant blossoms to that of the ripe and golden fruit. The
Mediterranean orange is not so large as the Florida product, but it is
of finer quality and rich in flavor, with a thin skin and an abundance
of juice. One other indigenous fruit should be mentioned. It is called
St. John's fig, because it is at its perfection on the anniversary of
the fete of that apostle as celebrated by the Romish church. Other
species of figs are grown upon these islands, but none equal to this.
The mingling of sexes is so important and so clearly defined a factor in
regard to the fruitfulness of the tree that the cultivators of the
fig-trees in Malta heed it as strictly as they would in the breeding of
favorite animals.

The staple product of the group is perhaps cotton, which is exported in
limited quantities, sufficient being retained and manufactured here for
the use of the common people. The Maltese are believed to have been
famous for the production of certain lines of textile fabrics, even in
the ancient days of Phoenician sovereignty. History tells us that the
Sicilian praetor, Verres, sent hither for women's garments,--certain fine
articles of female wear, with which to deck the favorites of his court;
and doubtless there was even then produced here something similar to
that which is so favorably known as Maltese lace, and which is still so
profitable a product of this people. Diodorus Siculus said in his day,
"The inhabitants are very rich, inasmuch as they exercise many trades,
and in particular they manufacture cloths remarkable for their softness
and fineness." Lace is also now made by the Greek women, not a little of
which finds its way to the counters of Valletta merchants, where it is
sold to strangers as being of native manufacture.

Here and there small plots of sugar-cane and tobacco may be seen under
fairly successful cultivation, but we suspect that both are of modern
introduction, for certainly they are not indigenous. The appearance of
these small fields of the Indian weed and the saccharine plant, to one
familiar with their growth in Cuba and Louisiana, is like a broad
caricature. Cigars, chewing tobacco, and snuff are produced here, but
almost entirely from stock which has been imported in the raw state for
this purpose. Considerable quantities are exported in the manufactured
form, though the local consumption is large, the English garrison being
liberal purchasers, while tobacco in some form is the usual indulgence
of the longshoremen.

One occasionally sees in Malta a peculiar tree called the carob, with
thick, dark green foliage. It is a species of locust, growing to an
average height of ten feet, but spreading along the earth three times
that size in width. If its extended branches reentered the soil it would
be like the Asiatic banyan-tree. The carob is said to be as long-lived
as the olive-tree, and bears a nourishing bean, which is cooked and
eaten by the common people. It is considered particularly excellent for
fattening domestic animals. Sheep and goats eat the bean in a green
state from the branches of the carob, which has given rise to the saying
that in Malta animals climb the trees to procure their food. This tree
is green all the year round like our spruce and pine, and flourishes in
the most rocky soil, requiring but little depth of earth to sustain and
feed it. It seems to have no difficulty in finding or in making
fissures, into which to send its expanding roots. It will be remembered
that the friable rock of which the group is formed, until it has been
exposed for some time to atmospheric influences, is almost as soft as
common clay. If there are palm-trees on these islands, outside of the
botanical gardens at Floriana, we did not chance to see them, but we
have known writers to speak of the palm as growing in Malta. The
climate, though semi-tropical, is hardly adapted to the life of this
beautiful tree, which is one of the greatest charms of the tropics and
the East.

Nothing in the neighborhood of Valletta affords such enjoyment, or is so
suggestive and restful, after a busy day occupied in sight-seeing, as a
pull along the coast beyond the harbor's mouth, in a good Maltese boat,
propelled by a couple of stout oarsmen, while the languid sea breaks
upon the shore in tender caresses. It goes without saying that a
moonlight night must be selected for the excursion. One is not likely to
forget the picture presented by the grim fortifications, the looming
towers and domes, the tall, slim spire of the English church, the mass
of flat-roofed dwellings, the clear-cut architectural lines of the
principal edifices, or the fascination of the cradlelike motion, the
delightful coolness, the great sense of peacefulness and silence. Is not
this elysium? How responsive are the dimpled waters to the smile of the
gracious moon, which suggests so much more than it reveals! How idle and
sensuous is every surrounding! When the passing breeze touches the
surface of the waters with a gentle pressure, the color deepens, just as
a youthful maiden's cheek might do, electrified by a lover's first kiss.
Is it because one realizes the evanescent character of these delights
that a feeling of sadness intervenes? Is there not a gladness which
makes the heart afraid?

It is impossible to give expression to the golden memories we have
cherished of these delightful Maltese associations,--pictures which time
cannot efface, images, beautiful and enduring.




CHAPTER V.

      The Climate of Malta.--The Furious Gregale.--Liability to
      Sunstroke.--The African Sirocco.--Cloudless Days.--A Health
      Resort.--English Church.--View of Etna.--Volcanic
      Disturbances.--Will Malta Eventually Disappear?--Native
      Flora.--Flower-Girls of Valletta.--Absence of Lakes and
      Rivers.--The Moon-Flower.--Grand Stone Aqueduct.--After the
      Roman Plan of Building.--Fountains.--Results of Irrigation.


The climate of Malta is a subject of more than ordinary importance. The
air and sky are African, though its life and associations are strongly
European. The winter temperature--December and January--very rarely
falls below 50 deg. Fahr., and though hail-storms do sometimes visit the
islands, at rare intervals, snow is unknown. The season when such
unwelcome visitations occur is very short. An entire day devoid of
sunshine, even in the winter months, is unusual. It is not without
interest to know that the longest day in this region is fifteen hours
less eight minutes. In summer the thermometer rises to 85 deg., and even
95 deg., in the shade, while the direct rays of the sun are then almost
unbearable by human beings, and especially by unacclimated foreigners.
_Coups de soleil_ are not uncommon in the ranks of the soldiery. Those
familiar with the life of Grand Master La Vallette will remember that he
died from sunstroke received here in 1557. A brief exposure to the
sun's heat cost the life of the hardy old soldier who had survived so
many dangerous wounds received on the battlefield. It is a saying in
Malta that only newly arrived tourists and mad dogs expose themselves to
the blaze of the midday summer sun. Even the natives are cautious in
this respect.

The temperature drops rapidly when the fierce wind known as the gregale
prevails, blowing from the northeast across the Ionian Sea directly into
the Grand Harbor of Valletta. When this wind occurs, the blue of the sky
turns to a dull leaden hue; clouds troop up from the east in close
phalanxes; the birds fly low, uttering ominous cries; and all nature
seems to be in the throes of distress. An evil wind,--sometimes it is of
such force as to drive the largest vessels from their moorings, while it
makes sad havoc among the lesser craft. On such occasions, everything
afloat which can be so handled is hauled up on the shore, which is the
usual mode of securing small vessels all along the shores of the
Mediterranean to-day, just as it has been for centuries. The natives who
navigate these waters have quite a reputation as efficient mariners; but
they do not compare favorably with either American or European sailors
in this respect. They are not seamen of the long voyage, who have
learned to contend successfully with the ocean when in its wildest
moods. Their instinct is to run at once for a safe harbor when a storm
threatens. So with the mariners of the Red Sea, between Aden and Suez,
who will not venture out of port if the hot winds of that region blow
too hard to permit a candle to burn on the forecastle of their vessels.
Asiatics, as a rule, are poor seamen.

A pampero at Montevideo or a norther at Vera Cruz is not much more
disagreeable and destructive than is the gregale at Malta (the
"Euroclydon" of the Scriptures). Nor is one other dreaded visitor much
less objectionable; that is, a strong wind rising on the Egyptian coast,
which, sweeping hitherward, wraps an unwelcome mantle of cold gray mist
about the Maltese group.

This bit of terra firma is so isolated and exposed on all sides that
when any severe weather prevails in "the great middle sea," it must
encounter its entire force. In summer the heat is often aggravated by
the sirocco, a humid, wilting, scorching wind which blows from the
southeast across the African desert, sometimes charged with a fine,
penetrating dust, for which it is difficult satisfactorily to account.
This wind, on leaving Africa, is quite dry; but when it reaches Malta,
having traversed a long expanse of sea, it becomes heavily charged with
vapor, without losing the heat which it borrowed in passing over the
African desert. It subjects those whom it encounters to something very
like a steam bath. Yet regardless of all drawbacks, whose importance we
are by no means inclined to exaggerate, the average winter weather is
considered by many Europeans to be delightful and wholesome, attracting
scores of English invalids and others annually, who are in search of a
temporary home abroad to avoid the dreary London season of fog and
gloom. After giving the subject considerable attention, together with
careful inquiries of local authorities, the author came to the
conclusion that Malta was not a very desirable resort for consumptives;
nor should it be forgotten that a low form of typhoid fever is common
much of the year in Valletta. The dreaded African wind just described
prevails in September and October, often blowing for three or four
consecutive days. It must be a sound constitution which can successfully
withstand its enervating influence. An invalid quickly loses appetite,
courage, and even physical capacity to walk any distance, when the
sirocco prevails.

The winds of the Mediterranean are so regular in their occurrence as to
be easily and correctly anticipated at their proper seasons. This was
understood, and attracted special notice, even in ancient times. "The
wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it
whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to
his circuits" (Ecclesiastes i. 6).

The seasons are divided here into five winter and five summer months,
spring and autumn being each one month in duration. Winter begins in the
middle of November; summer, in the middle of May. The winds are rather
cool in winter unless they blow from the southwest. When they come from
other quarters, they pass over snow-clad mountains, the Atlas range,
those of Corsica or Sardinia, and the hoary brow of AEtna. The chief
advantage of this island group as a winter resort for those in delicate
health is the large proportion of sunny, cloudless days, while the main
drawback is the occasional fierceness of the winds. This sums up the
matter in brief.

A book has been lately issued from the press, written by one who
traveled eastward, entitled "Seeking the Sun." It is to be hoped that
the author was successful in his search. If not, let him visit Malta,
not forgetting to take with him a white umbrella. It is useless to look
for a land without climatic objections. The difference between Malta and
the famous Riviera on the opposite coast of the mainland is, upon the
whole, very slight. At Nice and Mentone, in fact all along that favorite
coast bordering the Mediterranean, the mistral is the bane of the
health-seeker; while in this group the gregale is the twin evil. This
minute mention is made for the sake of completeness. On the whole, the
Maltese climate is equable and mild. It is not so dry, atmospherically,
as Algiers, Tangier, or Egypt; but it is quite as warm. As is generally
the case throughout the Mediterranean basin, the difference in
temperature between night and day is scarcely two degrees. Uniformity in
this respect is a great desideratum, and it is certainly to be found
here. The author has realized a difference of thirty-three degrees
Fahrenheit within twenty-four hours in Cairo, Egypt, and also in St.
Augustine, Florida.

Malta was first rendered popular among English health-seekers by the
visit, for this purpose, of Dowager Queen Adelaide, widow of William
IV., who passed the winter of 1836 on the island, with decided advantage
to her physical condition.

The Dowager Queen evinced her gratitude for restored health by erecting
here an Episcopal place of worship, known as the Church of St. Paul,
situated on the Piazza Gelsi. It is a plain edifice, both inside and
out, but of chaste and elegant Grecian design. The old palace of the
German branch of the Knights of St. John was torn down to afford a site
for this church, the construction of which drew upon the generous
donor's purse to the extent of one hundred thousand dollars. Its tall,
pointed spire is quite conspicuous, in a general view of the town, the
architecture being so in contrast with its surroundings. There was a
bitter but useless opposition made by the arrogant Roman Catholic
priesthood of Malta against its construction. The priesthood, however,
soon found that they had to deal with a power that could crush their
influence in the group altogether, if it chose to do so, and were forced
to eat humble pie, after exposing their spirit of bigotry. This church
has a fine set of bells, and contains a valuable theological library.
The Dowager Queen also established an infant school or kindergarten,
with an English lady teacher, which proved to be a decided success, and
a revelation to this isolated community as regarded the education of
children. It proved to be a spur to mental culture in older persons, who
saw, with surprise, children five or six years of age able to read and
to answer simple questions in arithmetic, as well as exhibiting ripening
intelligence concerning everything about them. This admirable example
was not without its due effect upon the government. There are to-day ten
infant schools and seventy-six primary schools in the city of Valletta.
The visit of the Queen Dowager lasted three months, during which time
she endeared herself very much to the Maltese by her kindness and
consideration.

The excellent and melodious organ used in St. Paul's Church was removed
from the cathedral in the quaint old city of Chester, England, where it
had long served its purpose, being replaced there by a very superior
modern instrument.

The atmosphere of this region is so clear that the grand, solitary,
sulphurous cone of Mount AEtna can be sometimes seen, though it is
situated a hundred and thirty miles away, in Sicily. The coast,
stretching east and west from Cape Passaro, which is the nearest point
to the Maltese islands, is also occasionally visible. The mountain, when
seen against the northern sky, assumes the shape of an irregular cone
with a widespread base. Some not clearly understood law of refraction
must aid the human vision to discern these objects at such great
distances beyond the horizon. The most favorable time of the day to seek
a view of far-away AEtna is at sunrise or near sunset. The reader
familiar with the White Mountains of New Hampshire has doubtless seen
Portland harbor, in the State of Maine, from the top of Mount
Washington, though this is a distance of about eighty miles. In this
case, the object which is sighted at such long range is at sea level,
while AEtna is over ten thousand feet above the surface of the
Mediterranean Sea. Sailors describe the view of far-distant objects as
promoted by "atmospheric looming," which perhaps applies in this
instance, when one not only sees the low-lying coast of Italy, but it
appears to be hardly more than twenty or thirty miles away.

The idea of this group of islands being in some way connected, beneath
the bed of the sea, with the volcano just named is no longer
entertained. The Maltese islands have often experienced severe shocks of
earthquake, but, so far as is known, never at the time when AEtna was in
eruption. Sir Walter Scott, in his journal, mentions having experienced
a shock while he was on a visit to the island, of which the inhabitants
seemed to take little, if any, notice, showing that it was not a very
uncommon occurrence. On the Pacific side of South America, say at
Valparaiso, it must be a very decided demonstration of this sort to
cause remark. The most destructive earthquake in Malta of which we can
find any record was in 1693, when the shocks were quite severe, and
continued at brief intervals for three successive days, producing great
consternation and injury. No loss of life is mentioned as having
occurred, but the dwelling-houses and fortifications of Valletta
suffered considerably, and one or two churches were nearly destroyed in
the city. At Citta Vecchia, in the middle of the larger island, the
dome, towers, and in fact the entire walls of the cathedral were leveled
with the ground by a succession of violent shocks.

There is a remarkable tradition, which has been handed down from
generation to generation for centuries past, that the time will come
when Malta and its dependencies will be swallowed up by the sea, and
that where it is now so securely anchored the Mediterranean will be
navigable for ships of any size. When we recall the fact that, within
the memory of many of us, an island suddenly appeared off the shore of
Malta, between here and the coast of Sicily, so large as to be formally
taken possession of by Great Britain (called Graham's Island), but which
has since totally disappeared, so that the sea is as deep over the spot
where it stood as it is anywhere in the vicinity, the possibility of the
prediction relating to Malta does not seem to be so very unreasonable.
The only marvel is that the probability of such an event should have
been predicted so long ago, and that we should have seen in the present
century an exemplification of just such an occurrence in the appearance
and disappearance of the island just spoken of, so very near Malta.

The Mediterranean constitutes the greatest marine highway in the world,
a fact which particularly impresses one who has traversed nearly all the
lonely seas and oceans known to navigators. It is seldom that some sail
or island is not in sight from the deck beneath one's feet, while
mammoth steamships are constantly met speeding to or from European or
Asiatic ports, leaving in their wake two marked features, one of dark
wreathing smoke, reaching skyward, and the other of bright, mingled
colors upon the frothy sea. Over the seething waters thus churned into a
Milky Way, in the wake of the steamships, hover flocks of broad-winged,
snow-plumed gulls, watching for bits of marine food, or for scraps
thrown from the ships' galleys, while filling the air with their rude,
contentious cries.

The native flora of Malta is of a character similar to that of Sicily
and northern Africa. The same semi-tropical species prevail, with but
few exceptions, and where there is sufficient soil to permit, there is
the same wild exuberance of vegetation. It was early in March when the
author first landed at Valletta, a most propitious date for a first
impression. The trees were in full bloom within the sheltering walls of
the city, the lovely blossoms of the fruit trees being especially
conspicuous, while every available nook and corner was beautified by a
display of fragrant flowers in great variety. Among these were
heliotrope, pinks, tulips, hyacinths, <DW29>s, roses, and daffodils,
"that come before the swallow dares." Many balconies of the
dwelling-houses were wreathed with creeping vines, among which a cluster
of scarlet bloom caught the eye here and there, relieved by pale blue
and pink fuchsias. Choice bouquets were selling on the streets for a few
pennies each, the pretty Maltese girls displaying exquisite taste in
the arrangement of colors relieved by backgrounds of maidenhair ferns.
Mingled with these charming flowers some very beautiful orchids were
seen, though we were told that they were not in their prime so early in
the year. To one fresh from a long sea voyage, it seemed as though a
floral carnival was in full tide,--a revel of roses. This queen of
flowers, together with violets, both of which grow here in profusion,
was famous even in Cicero's time, when luxurious Romans reclined upon
pillows stuffed with the odorous leaves. The Mediterranean sun and light
appear to intensify the native color of every blossom and every flower.
Was it a passing fancy only, or do these children of Flora sacrifice in
a degree their normal fragrance in order to assume this extraordinary
vividness of complexion? One is reminded of the gaudy birds of the
tropics. Those of most vivid and brilliant plumage have not the
exquisite sweetness of song which characterizes our more soberly clad
favorites of the colder north. No zone monopolizes perfection;
compensation is sure to peep out somewhere. If a certain charm or
endowment be wanting, there is sure to be some equivalent furnished.

One floral gem is especially remembered which was shown to us in a
private garden near the Porta Reale, and which was indeed a novelty. It
is called in Malta the moon-flower, and its hour of bloom is at
eventide. It never sees the sun, folding its leaves at the first gleam
of the dawn. The flower is ermine white, like the snowy japonica, and
is nearly as scentless as that regal flower. So the lily-like
night-blooming cereus of the Bahamas opens its petals at sunset, and
closes them at the break of day.

There are no rivers, natural lakes, or running streams worthy of the
name on these islands, but there are numerous excellent never-failing
springs, whose overflow is improved for irrigating purposes, and whose
regular supply has been carefully utilized for a period of over two
centuries by means of a system of waterworks of a very substantial
character. This important work was begun in 1610, and finished in 1615.
The winter rains are fairly abundant in the months of December, January,
and February. The water from this source is saved for domestic use by
means of ample stone cisterns, nearly every dwelling-house being thus
provided. The grand aqueduct which furnishes the city with
drinking-water is over nine miles long, finding its chief fountain-head
at Diaz Chandal, not far from Citta Vecchia. In order to insure a full
supply, several springs were united by means of subterranean conduits,
so that the combined water flows towards the capital in one large
channel. As far as Casal Attard the aqueduct is under ground; from this
point it rises and disappears according to the undulations of the
surface of the island. These springs are never affected by drought, and
as to the quality of the water, we can bear testimony to its purity and
excellence. In its course, the water passes over a line of many hundred
substantial stone arches, picturesque to look upon, but entirely
superfluous. It is built after the old Roman style, being raised to a
level across the valleys and depressions. These people did not know that
water will always rise to the height of its source. The Romans showed
the same want of knowledge regarding this, the simplest law of
hydraulics; _vide_ the graceful, half-ruined arches which cross the
Campagna to the very gates of the "Eternal City." The principal outlet
of this Maltese aqueduct is a conspicuous and ornamental fountain in the
square of St. George, fronting the old palace of the Grand Masters. From
here the water is distributed by conduits, which extend to various parts
of the town and fortifications. There are over fifty public fountains in
Valletta. Some of these at times exhibit novel pictures, when the people
in characteristic groups gather about them for their supplies.

Such a system of waterworks, built in the old style as described, must
have cost an extravagant sum of money, but the Knights of St. John did
not lack for ample means to perfect any undertaking which might conduce
to their health or comfort, and, it may be added also, which would
contribute to their luxurious mode of living.

In the course of time, this first aqueduct proving to be inadequate to
the demand, a second one was added. The new iron supply pipes were laid
after the modern style,--that is, under ground; and as Valletta is
situated at a lower level than the springs from which the water is
derived, the arrangement works admirably. It is still necessary, as we
have said, to preserve all the rainwater possible, for domestic use. In
a climate like that of Malta, the consumption of water is much larger
per capita than is usually the case in more temperate regions. The
amount used for irrigating purposes alone is very large; the prevailing
fertility is to be attributed nearly as much to ample moisture as to the
free use of domestic refuse for enrichment of the soil. The average
annual rainfall is a little less than twenty-three inches, which would
be entirely insufficient to sustain vegetation without artificial
irrigation.

It was thought that the dry, cracked soil of the pampas of Australia was
nearer to positive sterility than that of any known region; but when
water was flowed liberally over experimental portions, and the seed, was
planted without the application of any other fertilizer, in due time
"the soil laughed with a harvest." In China and Japan, the patient
husbandmen water their gardens, however extensive they may be, entirely
by hand, except the rice-fields, which, being planted in low and marshy
soil, are artificially flooded twice or three times each season. These
Asiatics have found that serving each individual plant in just
proportions produces grand results at harvest time.

Before describing Valletta, the unique and fascinating capital of Malta,
in detail, we will ask the reader to accompany us to the adjacent island
of Gozo. In coming from the west it is seen before Malta proper, and in
point of historic remains is quite as interesting, while in natural
verdure it far excels the larger and more populous island, from which it
was doubtless detached by some great convulsion of nature in prehistoric
times.

To reach Gozo from Valletta, a boat taken at Quarantine Harbor will land
the visitor at the shallow bay of Migiarro, on the southeastern
extremity of the island, amid a fleet of fishing-boats, hauled high and
dry upon the shelving strand. The boats are called _speronari_, and are
as buoyant and fleet as a sea-bird flying before the wind. They are
pointed at both ends, the prow terminating at a height of two feet above
the level of the thwarts. They have retained their peculiar shape for
centuries. It is always interesting to pause here for a few moments, to
take note of the abundance and excellence of the fish brought in by the
boatmen just arrived from their early morning excursion offshore. The
variety and redundancy of aquatic life in this latitude is something
marvelous.




CHAPTER VI.

      Homer's Fabled Siren.--Singular Topographical Formation in
      Gozo.--Beautiful Island Groves.--Fertile Grain-Fields.--
      Flowering Hedges.--Aromatic Honey.--Herds of Goats.--A
      Favorite Domestic Product.--Milk Supply.--Prolific Sheep.
      --A Maltese Market.--Quail Shooting.--Rabbato, Capital of
      Gozo.--The Old Citadel.--Lace Manufacture.--Prehistoric
      Ruins.--The Giant's Tower.--Attractive Summer Resort.--Pagan
      Worship.


Gozo, the fabled isle of Calypso, the Gaulos of the Greeks, the Gaulum
of the Romans, and the Ghaudex of the Arabs, with its rock-bound,
cave-indented shores, is oval in shape, and has the same general
characteristics as Malta, but is much more fertile. The undulating
surface of the island gives a casual observer the idea of its being a
hilly country, yet at only one place does it reach a height of over
three hundred feet above sea-level. This is at Dibiegi, where a hill
rises to an elevation of about seven hundred feet. When approached from
the sea, Gozo appears to lie much lower than Malta proper, and this is
really so. Through the early morning haze, both look like huge marine
monsters sleeping upon the surface of the waters. The hills we have
referred to are singularly conical, but are uniformly flattened at their
tops by the disintegrating process of the elements, causing them to
present the appearance of a myriad little volcanoes, though they are
very innocent of any such dreaded association. In the Hot Lake District
of New Zealand, near Ohinemutu, the author has seen a precisely similar
appearance, but in the latter instance the effect was undoubtedly
produced by volcanic action. The boiling springs, geysers, and hot lakes
of this New Zealand district are almost identical in character with our
Yellowstone Park phenomena. Both must be the result of smouldering fires
far below the surface of the earth. In the New Zealand district an
active volcano is near at hand, which often rages with destructive
force.

Gozo is beautified with occasional groves of trees, which is an
adornment almost entirely wanting in the larger island. These groves,
however, are by no means numerous. The one great deficiency of the group
is the absence of arboreal vegetation, and yet an abundance of trees
could be made to grow and flourish here with very little effort. There
are marl beds which might be utilized for the purpose, situated in
various parts of the islands, besides which, the rocky formation of the
group, as we have shown, is of a porous nature, full of fissures and
crevices, easily admitting the roots of vegetation. There is a tradition
that Malta was once covered with trees, and that they were gradually
sacrificed to meet the demand for fuel and for other purposes. The
cultivation of shade trees about the villages would add an element of
beauty, and would afford needed shade, besides promoting a more liberal
rainfall, which is so very limited here. Some of the Grand Masters have
done much by their personal efforts to induce the planting of fruit and
ornamental trees in and about the city. Several of the squares are thus
beautified, the trees forming an agreeable shade where in midsummer the
glare is almost intolerable in exposed places.

A modern survey shows the circumference of Gozo to be a trifle less than
twenty-five miles. It has been famous from time immemorial for the large
amount and the delicious quality of the honey which its inhabitants send
to market. The thriving fields of red-flowering clover, which is called
_sulla_ by the natives, and which grows to an average height of three
and a half feet, together with an abundance of wild thyme and purple
blooming vetch, afford rich food for the industrious bees and the gaudy
butterflies, "Yellow bees, so mad for love of early-blooming flowers."
The peculiar clover of which we speak is indigenous, and a well-grown
field, each upright stem surmounted by a large crimson flower, looks
more like cultivated roses than simple clover blossoms. When the breeze
sweeps gently over these fields, the eye is delighted by broad waves of
rich color rising and falling in the warm sunshine, while an
indescribable, ripe, harvest smell permeates the atmosphere. The
geranium grows to a mammoth size on this island, and tall, dense, and
secure hedges of it are not uncommon. In full bloom these form a most
striking feature of the landscape, as peculiar as the agave hedges of
Mexico. The former, when wearing their full-dress of scarlet, seem like
a fiery cordon drawn about the spacious area thus inclosed. The latter,
with their pale blue-green sword-like leaves, are as repellent as a line
of fixed bayonets, and absolutely impervious to man or beast. The byways
of the northwestern part of Gozo are delightful, verdant, and pastoral,
while the air is redolent of clover, violets, and hedge roses.

One of the ancient titles of this island was Melita, a name which is
believed to be derived from the excellent honey which it has always
produced. We can honestly testify to the delightful aromatic flavor of
this delicate article. Truly, it is a land flowing with milk and
honey,--Melita, "Isle of Honey,"--its choice goat's milk being also a
staple commodity. As for butterflies, to which we have incidentally
referred, graceful, leisurely, aerial creatures, nowhere outside of
southern India can finer specimens of this beautiful and delicate insect
be found. An enthusiastic German naturalist in Valletta told the author
that he had secured a rich collection in Gozo, and that he was then on
his way to the little island of Filfla to reap a harvest in another
line, namely, among the curious lizard family, which thrive upon its few
square rods of rocky soil.

Who ever traveled in out-of-the-way places abroad, without meeting some
quaint German naturalist, wearing a green woolen cap with an impossible
leather visor, a sort of Dominie Samson, in search of ugly centipedes,
stinging ants, extraordinary spiders, or other hideous bugs? These
"Innocents Abroad" are all alike, wearing gold-bowed spectacles, and
having a chronic disregard for clean linen. One can easily forgive the
butterfly enthusiast, these delightful, innocuous insects, exquisite in
their frailty and variety of colors, are so like animated flowers; but
pray spare us from poisonous bugs, with innumerable crooked legs.

One has not far to go, after landing upon Gozo, before small flocks of
well-conditioned, silky-haired goats begin to appear, intelligent-looking
animals, with large, gazelle-like eyes and transparent ears. They are
generally tended by a barefooted lad or a young girl having the
slenderest amount of covering in the shape of clothes. These boys and
girls, nine or ten years of age, are often strikingly handsome, the
latter betraying a perfection of youthful promise as to form, distinctly
seen through their scanty rags. The boys have the blackest of black
eyes, and the brownest of brown skins, such as one sees among the Moors
who come into Tangier with the caravans arriving from Fez. These sheep
tenders would answer admirably as models for an artist, often
unconsciously assuming artistic poses, forming grand pictures, and
reminding one of the subjects which Murillo delighted in. The quiet
self-possession of these children of nature is both impressive and
significant. They are utterly untaught, but how graceful in every
movement! It would be as impossible for one of them to be awkward as for
a young kitten. Every attitude is statuesque and full of repose. They
have borrowed somewhat of the grandeur of their birthplace, bounded by
wide, untamed waters and limitless sky. As is often noticed among
European peasants thus employed, the girls are always supplied, though
never so young, with some knitting or crochet work which keeps their
fingers fully employed. In the populous centres, men may loaf in the
laziest fashion, and remain quite unemployed, unless it be in the
arduous occupation of smoking rank tobacco, but the women seem to be
instinctively busy at all times.

We are reminded in this connection of another article of production for
which Gozo enjoys a certain and favorable reputation, namely, goat's
cheese, a delicate dairy compound, which should be eaten while it is
quite fresh. It is so well appreciated by the people of Valletta that
little, if any, of the article is ever exported, though choice packages
sometimes find their way to the larder of the P. & O. steamers, much to
the satisfaction of traveling gourmands. The goats raised upon this
island are of a breed which, it would appear, is specially adapted to
the local necessities, having singularly well-developed udders, which
reach nearly to the ground, and yielding milk profusely, while
subsisting upon the most common and inexpensive nourishment. Small herds
of these animals are driven by their owners about the streets of the
capital, and milked at the doors of the consumers, just as one witnesses
to-day in Paris and other continental cities. There is no chance for
adulteration when served after this fashion; and we all know that milk
challenges our credulity more seriously than nearly any other article
of domestic use, where water is so very cheap and accessible.

Cows would require too much pasturage to be profitably kept on these
islands, whereas the hardy goats, as we have said, are cheaply fed and
easily managed. Sheep, which are kept here in considerable numbers, are
quite prolific, often having four lambs at a birth, and rarely less than
two. The cows and oxen which are imported are designed almost entirely
for food, though some few are employed for domestic or farming purposes.
Cattle come almost wholly from the Barbary States. These animals fatten
quickly upon the rich clover, which is so cheap and abundant here, thus
making excellent beef. Asses and mules are the chief means in use for
transportation, and as a rule they are very fine ones. We were told that
Malta-bred animals of this class were in special request throughout
southern Italy. The native owner has an Arab's fondness for his horse or
mule, feeds him abundantly, and cares for him kindly. Animals thus
reared naturally present a better appearance, show finer instincts, and
bring better prices. Those of Gozo are remarkable for their size and
docility.

The gardens of this island supply the citizens of Valletta with nearly
all the vegetables which are required for daily use, together with
fowls, turkeys, and geese. Large quantities of green fodder come from
the same source for the sustenance of the animals kept for use in the
town.

An interesting sight may be enjoyed by going into the principal market
of the capital of Malta, in the rear of the Grand Palace, at early
morning, where one can watch the various products, fodder, fruits, and
vegetables arriving from Gozo. The quantity and excellent condition of
the supply gives promise of good fare at the average tables of the
citizens. Various game birds are seen, also brought from the sister
isle, especially quails. This bird not only breeds freely in the Maltese
group, but comes hither at times from Algeria in large flocks, driven
thence by the close pursuit of the local sportsmen. The Tunisians make a
wholesale slaughter of the quails annually in the month of May, shipping
the game thus secured to France, it being a favorite bird with the
Parisian gourmands. In the mean time the people of Algeria complain of a
fearful increase of the all-devouring locusts, indigenous there, which,
when young, form the food supply of the quails. So all extremes outrage
some clearly-defined law of nature, and entail prompt punishment.
Doubtless the securing of a reasonable number of these birds would do no
harm; but when the pursuit is carried to the verge of extermination,
some penalty must follow.

During the open season, as it is called, the officers of the British
garrison--desperately at a loss, it would seem, to find
amusement--resort to Gozo for quail shooting. There is also a certain
season of the year when a variety of ducks, plover, snipe, and other
aquatic birds may be taken. Only about a score of species of the
feathered tribe make their permanent home in the group; but there are
hundreds seen resting here from time to time, on their migratory course
to other climes. In stormy weather, dead birds are found at the base of
the big lighthouse on Gozo, attracted and half-dazed by the staring eye
of fire piercing the darkness of the night. When flying at great speed,
they are dashed fatally against the stout glass which shelters the
lantern. Similar occurrences are known in Massachusetts Bay, at the
lighthouse on Minot's Ledge, where the keeper is enabled to replenish
his larder with game birds after a hard blow at night. This lighthouse
at Guirdan, Gozo, dominates Cape Demetri, looming far heavenward when
observed from the sea, above which it stands four hundred feet, at once
gladdening and guiding the seamen in the nightwatches.

An attempt was made to introduce hares into Gozo for sporting purposes;
but the residents of the island, with the dire experience of Australia
and New Zealand before them, protested against it, and fortunately
succeeded in averting the dreaded scourge. As is well known, the rabbit
pest in the two countries named has assumed such proportions as to defy
the combined efforts of the settlers to get rid of them. Every green
leaf and tender root which comes in their way is destroyed to appease
the hunger of these rabbits; and vegetation is as effectually
obliterated from the land as would be the case if visited by millions of
locusts.

Let us review, for a moment, the geographical and topographical
character of this island.

Gozo is situated off the northeast end of Malta, from which it is
separated by a deep channel, less than four miles wide, known as the
Straits of Freghi. The principal town and capital is Rabbato, a sleepy,
Old-World metropolis, of very little consequence to the outside world.
It has been named Victoria by the English. The place contains some five
or six thousand inhabitants, besides which there are nine thrifty,
though small, villages upon the island. Lace-making is the almost
universal occupation of the people of Rabbato and its vicinity. The
incessant clicking of the bobbins, driven by deft fingers, greets the
ear on all sides. Of course there is a "Calypso" Hotel ready to capture
the innocent tourist. It is worthy of note that this special industry of
fine lace-making should have prevailed so long in Gozo. For aught that
is known, it may have originated here. It is certain that its popularity
dates long prior to the Roman colonization in the Maltese group. Common
usage does not retain the title given to the capital in compliment to
Queen Victoria of England, and in honor of the Jubilee year. It is
popularly known, as it certainly should continue to be, by its original
name.

Rabbato is situated very near the centre of the island, on one of a
group of conical hills. The citadel overlooking the place is partially
in ruins, but was once quite a substantial and extensive fortification,
being over half a mile in circumference. Whoever selected the spot as a
stronghold could hardly have realized that it was commanded by more
than one elevation in the immediate vicinity. Where its walls are not
raised upon the edge of a precipitous cliff, it is approached by very
steep stone steps, which could only be surmounted by an enemy under a
concentrated fire from several points. The place has a deep ditch after
the style of the Valletta fortifications, but this old stronghold is
rapidly crumbling to pieces. It was a mistake to select this spot for
the capital, if for no other reason than on account of the absence of a
good water supply. At the Bay of Marsa-el-Forno, near at hand, there is
not only a good harbor, but excellent drinking-water in abundance, while
the fertile soil makes a charmingly verdant neighborhood. There are some
delightful summer residences on the shore of this bay, the resort of
citizens who come hither from Valletta in the "heated term." Only those
foreigners whose official duties compel them to do so brave the summer
heat of Malta in the capital. The naval vessels which have wintered here
disperse to their several stations at that season, and invalids return
to England or elsewhere.

Rabbato was chosen as the capital of Gozo for the same reason,
doubtless, that Madrid was made the seat of government for Spain,
because it was so nearly the exact centre of the country, while almost
every other recommendation is wanting in both instances. The same remark
applies to Citta Vecchia, the ancient capital of Malta proper. The small
city of Rabbato contains a couple of fairly good hotels, a Jesuit
college, a cathedral, and two or three convents. Without wishing to
discourage the curious traveler from doing so, we would suggest that
when he visits the capital of Gozo, he go prepared to repel an army of
mosquitoes. The neighborhood is famous for this insect pest. The guide,
native and to the manner born, remarked that they never troubled him,
but devoted their attention entirely to strangers, which affords no
consolation to the afflicted.

The visitor finds in this neighborhood some very interesting
Phoenician and Roman remains, but mostly of the former and earlier
race of colonists upon the island.

Among the antiquities is one very remarkable ruin known as La Torre de
Giganti, "the Giant's Tower," which is probably the remains of a
prehistoric sacred temple, whose builders bowed before the image of
Baal. The careful study of antiquarians points to the fact of its having
been formerly the temple of Astarte, the Phoenician Venus. There are
others who attribute this ancient monument to a people who inhabited the
group before the nomadic tribes of Tyre and Sidon formed a colony in
Malta. This singular edifice, be its original purpose what it may, is
constructed of stones laid in a very skillful manner, no mortar being
used. The builders must have possessed admirable and efficient tools;
there is evidence enough to prove this in the careful finish shown in
many places. They must also have used powerful machinery to properly
adjust such heavy blocks in place. The great antiquity of the Giant's
Tower is undisputed. Its style antedates both the Greek and the Roman
examples which have been spared to us, and it is plainly the work of a
primitive people. It is situated on an eminence not far from Casal
Shaara, and forms a large inclosure with walls of great thickness. In
shape it is a circular tower open at the top, not unlike the "Towers of
Silence" which form the Parsee edifices near Bombay used for the
disposal of the dead. In this tower at Gozo, doubtless, the rites of
fire were celebrated; human victims were probably sacrificed here, and
their bodies burned. Fire, it will be remembered, was the symbol under
which ancient tribes worshiped the sun. The character of this tower is
also emphasized by a carved serpent cut in the solid stone, an emblem of
religious veneration among the ancient people of the East. Egyptian gods
were often represented with the bodies of serpents.

Even in our day, certain sects among the Japanese venerate this reptile
as sacred. In Benares, India, bulls, elephants, and monkeys are held to
be representatives of divinity. The author has seen in the Temple of
Honan, at Canton, China, a pen of "sacred" hogs! In the sincere struggle
to find some element as representative of the Great and Good, before
which to bow down and worship, for these singular devotional freaks seem
to be the outcome of such a purpose, one would think that the wildest
fanaticism must surely stop short of such excessive grossness.

Touching this most interesting Gozo tower, which it is not unreasonable
to say may have stood here for some three thousand years, it shows that
the builders, whoever they were, did their work thoroughly. It is
entered by two massive doorways, twenty feet in height and five or six
wide. The interior is cut up into various apartments, the use of which
can only be conjectured. The diameter of the whole is about ninety feet,
a considerable portion being paved with large, hewn stones. The whole is
supported by a foundation which no earthquake has yet been able to
undermine, though, as we are aware, the island has experienced many
shocks.




CHAPTER VII.

      A Maltese Fishing Hamlet.--Old Fort Chambray.--A Grotto
      shorn of Poetic Adornment.--The "Azure Window."--Bay of
      Scilendi.--Pirates' Caves.--Prehistoric Bones and
      Skeletons.--The Vast Changes of Land and Sea.--Suez
      Canal.--Geological Matters.--Native Race of Arabic
      Descent.--Curious Stone Mortars.--Primitive Artillery.
      --Maltese Fungus.--Springtime.--Riches of the Harvest.
      --Origin of the Island of Gozo.


The Bay of Migiarro, which means "the carting place," is the commercial
port of Gozo, so to dignify it, and was once considered of sufficient
importance to cause the Knights to erect a substantial stone tower or
fort for its defense. This is now in ruins, but the place has become a
busy and populous settlement, whose interests centre upon the fisheries
of this coast. The beach is a fine one, much resorted to for bathing
purposes. Close at hand, southward, is the grand cliff of Ras-el-Taffal,
a promontory nearly two hundred feet in height, crowned by old Fort
Chambray, which was named for the member of the brotherhood of St. John
whose liberality built it. He was a very rich Knight from Normandy, and
when he died, he left one fifth of his large estate to finish this
defensive work. The whole sum was required, and much more besides, to
complete the well-designed and elaborate fort. It was begun in 1749, and
was many years in course of construction, but it is now gradually
crumbling away, not being considered of importance.

Notwithstanding their many ancient monuments, the object which seems to
be of the most interest to the inhabitants and to tourists is the Grotto
of Calypso. This is a rocky fissure on the northwestern shore of the
island, situated about a league from Rabbato, and is the spot where the
grotto is supposed to have existed. It is now only a simple limestone
cavern, presenting no peculiarities worthy of detail. It has the usual
stalactitic incrustations and developments, recalling the much more
extensive caves of the same nature which the traveler sees at Matanzas,
Cuba. It is quite isolated, but is constantly visited by small parties
from Valletta, who drink in romantic ideas from the associations of the
place, and refreshment from the clear, sparkling spring which meanders
through the cave of the defunct goddess,--

 "The fair hair'd nymph with every beauty crown'd."

While on the spot we seek in vain for those "verdant groves of alders
and poplars, the odoriferous cypresses," and for "the meadows clothed in
the livery of eternal spring," with which Homer poetically endowed the
voluptuous abode of the Siren whose name he has immortalized. The view
presented from the top of the hill crowning the location of the Grotto
of Calypso is well worth mentioning, overlooking the Bay of Melleha and
most of the island of Gozo, with Comino and Malta in the distance. The
surface of the surrounding sea is at all times sprinkled with busy
fishing craft, pleasure yachts, row-boats, and large hulls freighted
with a wealth of merchandise.

In the neighborhood of Marsa-el-Forno, there is a stalagmitic cave of a
curious and interesting nature, which was discovered so late as 1888. It
is mainly situated under a field that lies close to the village church
of Sciara. This cave attracts large numbers of visitors to Gozo, and in
many respects is quite unique. It is eighty feet in length and sixty
wide, and contains a museum of curiosities which are the wonder and
admiration of all who behold them. When the cave is lighted by torches
or magnesium wire, the effect is extremely beautiful, the thousands of
crystalline stalactites suspended from the ceiling reflecting prismatic
colors of extraordinary brilliancy. It is indeed a fairy-like grotto,
much more worthy as a dwelling for Homer's nymph than the crude and
exposed cavern on the shore, already described. To one at all familiar
with these caves, which are found in various parts of the world, it is
no special marvel. These cavities are formed by the slow process of
well-understood chemical action, the active agent being the carbonic
acid gas which is held in solution by the rainwater that percolates
through the limestone roof of the cave. This acting upon the limestone
dissolves and conveys it away in liquid and gaseous forms.

Not far from here is a curious natural stone arch on the shore, called
Tierka Zerka, that is, the "Azure Window," through which one may look
upon the sea as though it were an artificial opening set with clearest
glass. It very naturally recalled a somewhat similar freak of nature
which occurs on the island of Torghatten, off the coast of Norway, where
one gets a sort of telescopic view, through a stone tunnel five hundred
feet long, of the blue sea and the islands in range far beyond it.

The next largest town to Rabbato is Casal Nadar, the only one on the
island whose population approximates in number to that of the capital.
This place is famous for the fruit which is raised in its neighborhood,
and especially for its excellent apples and choice ornamental trees. It
has nearly four thousand inhabitants. The cultivation of the land is
brought to a much higher standard here than in the larger island, but
the dwelling-houses are inferior to those of the villages of Malta
proper; and yet in estimating the general thrift of the country
population of the two islands, the result is decidedly in favor of Gozo.

A pleasant drive of three or four miles from Rabbato, through a
garden-like region where poppies, clad in imperial scarlet, peep out
from among the hedges to delight the eye, brings one to the Bay of
Scilendi, whose perpendicular cliffs contain many rocky caves, few of
which, probably, have been explored within the memory of living
residents hereabouts. They are believed to have been, in olden times,
the rendezvous of corsairs, where their ill-gotten wealth was stored,
where they held their revels, and where their prisoners were confined
until they were sold into slavery at Constantinople, or on the Barbary
coast. The manifest fertility of the soil lying between here and the
capital is owing principally to the irrigating capacity of several
invaluable and never-failing springs of pure water with which this
region has been exceptionally favored. The tangled masses of kelp and
seaweed, which constantly accumulate on the shore, are regularly
collected by the thrifty natives and liberally applied to the land as a
fertilizer. This material, becoming duly decomposed, imparts its rich
chemical properties to the soil, and thus repays the laborer tenfold.

Malta has been pronounced by an act of the English Parliament as
belonging to Europe, but the fact that the stratification of the
southern part of the island corresponds exactly with that of the coast
of Barbary indicates a similar origin. Ptolemy thought it was African,
but Pliny gives it to the Italian coast. Geologists of our day not only
believe that the Maltese group was once a part of Sicily, but that in
the far past it was also joined to Africa. In evidence of this
deduction, carefully prepared maps of soundings taken between the
islands and the continent on either side of the group are produced,
while in the soil of both Sicily and Malta the skeletons of hyenas and
other animals indigenous to Africa are frequently to be found, besides
other fossil remains indicating a like conclusion. If this supposition
be correct, how great must have been the changes which have taken place
in the physical geography of southern Europe and Malta! What a general
upheaval and subsidence must have agitated this famous sea in the remote
past! That important topographical changes have taken place in these
waters and in their relative connection with the land during historic
times is well known. A little more than two thousand years ago, the
Mediterranean and the Red Sea were united. De Lesseps' canal was no new
proposition. Nature had already half done the work by means of the
Bitter Lakes, and the modern engineer had only to restore a connection
which time had destroyed.

Among many other interesting fossil bones, teeth, and complete skeletons
unearthed at Gozo by naturalists, those of a pygmy species of elephants
were found, which must have stood but about four feet in height; these
were manifestly of African origin. The Ceylon elephant is distinctly
different, in size and in several other features. The latter is the
species universally met with in India, the beautiful island named having
yielded a regular supply to this country from time immemorial.

Dr. Andrew Leith Adams, a distinguished English surgeon and naturalist,
who resided for a period of several years in Malta, found fossil bones
and teeth of hippopotami in various parts of the group. He says in a
published account that he "unearthed hundreds of elephant's teeth,
together with those of other tropical animals." He also discovered, in
caves on the south side of the larger island, vestiges of aquatic birds
of a species now extinct, and which in life must have been larger than
the swan of our day. The presence of such remains indicates a great
change of climatic conditions between the far past and the present time.
It is difficult to imagine that Malta was ever the native land of
elephants and sea-horses, but Dr. Adams shows, at least to his own
satisfaction, that it was once covered with a productive soil and
luxuriant vegetation. According to the same authority, it must have had
lakes, rivers, and lagoons; trees and shrubs must have flourished in
profusion, and it was doubtless part of a land the principal portion of
which is now hidden beneath the surging waters of the Mediterranean.

Some of the most remarkable of Dr. Adams' discoveries were made in the
neighborhood of the village of Melleha, north of St. Paul's Bay, on the
principal island of the group. Here, in the sides of the ravine below
the hamlet, are numerous caves of various sizes, both natural and
artificial. Some of these are thought to be Phoenician tombs, as lamps
and lachrymatories have been found in them. A few of these caves are now
occupied by Maltese as dwellings. The village of Melleha has a very
ancient church, partly excavated in the solid rock, which is held in
great veneration, as it is said to have been consecrated by the Apostle
Paul. It contains a very ancient picture of the Virgin, believed to have
been painted by St. Luke! Penitential pilgrims come from all parts of
the group to kneel and pray in this church, a service which, according
to the local priests, carries with it absolution for any amount of sin
and wickedness. It is needless to say that a good round fee is also
contingent thereon.

The inhabitants of Gozo are, as a rule, thrifty, frugal, and
industrious; the gipsy-like dark-haired women, who almost invariably
have the charm of large, brilliantly expressive eyes, and even the young
children, devote themselves assiduously to making the famous Maltese
lace, for which a ready and profitable market always exists in European
and American cities, especially for the finer quality and more delicate
designs. Thus employed, for many hours of the day, they are often seen
in family groups, seated by the doors of their humble dwellings,--small,
massive, square stone buildings,--singing quaint old songs and gossiping
together. Strangers visiting these districts almost always carry away
with them, as souvenirs, specimens of this choice article, which has a
reputation all over Christendom. The collection of crown laces belonging
to the Queen of Italy contains specimens of Maltese lace reputed to be
five centuries old, while photographs of objects found in Egyptian tombs
date back the history of this delicate fabric to a thousand years or
more before Christ. A choice pattern manufactured from a new material is
now being made at Gozo, in small quantities. The basis is a peculiar
sort of white silk. The completed fabric of this style is costly, and
comes very near to the texture of a spider's web.

The Gozitans speak a language which differs somewhat from that common
in Malta proper, and which is generally considered to be a pure native
tongue, resembling the Arabic much more closely than does the mixed and
confusing dialect of the larger island. The names of places, persons,
monuments, household utensils, animals, and articles of food are all
Arabic pure and simple. It is curious to realize that this people should
have succeeded in keeping aloof from their conquerors so as not only to
retain their own language in its purity, but also their personal
resemblance to their Mohammedan ancestors. Their complexions are almost
as dark as those of the natives of Barbary. Sometimes one detects a
tendency to protruding lips and flat noses. When the Knights of St. John
took possession of Malta, they found the islanders universally
professing the Roman Catholic religion, but yet entirely governed by
Arab forms and customs. Their constant intercourse with the Barbary
States probably served to confirm them in these inherited proclivities.

At several points on the shore of Gozo where the attempt of an enemy to
land might be possible, the Knights during their early sovereignty
improvised a sort of ordnance called an earth mortar, after the
following process. A hole of the proper dimensions was cut or drilled in
the solid rock, at a certain angle trending towards the shore, designed
to hold a hundred pounds of gunpowder. The explosive was placed at the
bottom, and after a proper fuse was connected therewith, it was covered
with a layer of boards to act as a sort of wadding. Upon the boards a
ton or more of stones and rocks were placed, which completed the charge.
On the approach of an enemy, which would necessarily be by boats, the
fuse could be promptly ignited, and a wild discharge of rocks would at
once take place, sending the missiles high into the air at an angle
which would drop them upon the approaching enemy. These stones, falling
with destructive force upon the boats and upon those who were in them,
would scatter death and confusion in their ranks. We have never heard of
such a device put in practice elsewhere, but should imagine that it
would prove efficacious in a rude way to defend an exposed seacoast. A
large or even a small stone descending from a considerable height, under
such circumstances, would be sure, if it fell in a boat, to go through
its bottom, causing it to fill at once, and would be equally fatal if
falling upon the heads or bodies of human beings. The rock, which is of
the nature already described, admitted of being easily hewn into such
shape as was desired, while exposure to the atmosphere soon hardened it
to the required consistency and resisting power. A second discharge of
such a mortar might possibly involve as much danger to the defenders as
to the enemy. It must be remembered that at this period, between three
and four hundred years ago, the use of artillery was comparatively in
its infancy, and iron mortars, when they were procurable, were of the
crudest manufacture.

As forming a contrast to those days, and to the present means of
conducting offensive and defensive warfare, it may be appropriate to
mention that the author happened to be at Gibraltar not long ago, when a
hundred-ton cannon was landed there. With this extraordinary piece of
ordnance, it was believed that an effectual shot might be fired across
the strait to Africa! As it is at least twenty miles from the Fortress
of the Rock to the opposite coast, we took the declaration of the
artillerist who expressed this opinion of the power of the gun with
considerable allowance.

Hagar Tal Girnal--the "General's Rock"--is the name of a small,
outlying, and nearly inaccessible ledge off the shore of Gozo, upon
which there still grows in profusion, springing from the crevices of the
rock, the curious plant known to botanists as _Fungus Melitensis_,
Maltese fungus. This was so highly prized by the Knights of St. John as
to be most carefully gathered in its prime, dried in the sun, and
preserved as a stancher of blood in case of dangerous wounds, and also
for the suppression of internal hemorrhage. Indeed, the fungus was
believed to possess a variety of valuable medicinal properties. Small
packages of it were sent annually by the Knights as precious gifts to
the European potentates, it being equally prized by the recipients, who
believed it to be otherwise unattainable. It is certainly a very simple
weed, which is in flower about the last of April. When fresh it is of a
dark red color, like our sorrel, and is of a spongy softness, but it is
no longer held in such high repute either as an internal medicine or as
an efficacious dressing for wounds. The famous rock is now seldom, if
ever, trodden by the foot of man. It was always difficult of access in
rough weather, though it is hardly a hundred yards from the mainland.
The nearest village to the General's Rock is Casal Garbo. The people of
the neighborhood declare that the famous fungus grows exclusively on
this rock, but this assertion is not correct, as we have seen it in
bloom on the Mediterranean shore at Leghorn, Tunis, and elsewhere.

The language of the people round about Casal Garbo differs somewhat from
that which prevails in the rest of the island, seeming to be more Hebrew
than Arabic. It is certainly far from being the latter tongue. This fact
has given rise to many suppositions and learned discussions. We were
told that the subject was to be carefully investigated by a committee of
scientists, linguists, and archaeologists who were specially interested.

One hears about an important alabaster quarry, situated in the
northwestern part of Gozo, but the author did not visit it. There are
said to be ample evidences of its having been worked in an intelligent
manner centuries ago, even before the Roman period, if the indications
are rightly interpreted. Among so many nationalities as have at sundry
times held possession of this group, it is a very nice distinction to
attribute this or that work to any special one.

It has been mentioned that the island of Gozo is much more fertile than
Malta proper, though why this should actually be so it would be
difficult to explain. There is less rocky surface and more natural soil
in the former than in the latter. This is realized at a glance. Certain
it is that so far as verdure is concerned, the daisies and the
dandelions appear and the grassy lanes of Gozo are aglow with vernal
ripeness early in February, while the more drowsy soil of Malta does not
awaken until the middle of March. Springtime is the season of the year
when the earth sends forth her choicest treasures, even in this
semi-tropical, Mediterranean clime,--

 "Hanging her infant blossoms on the trees."

The deep purple vetch which enamels the fields of the islands,
especially in Gozo, is beautified by the scarlet poppies which Nature
sprinkles here and there with dainty fingers, producing vivid gleams of
color in strong and pleasing contrast with the surroundings. Sometimes
the ripening wheat-fields are made lovely after the same winsome manner.

The rich development and beauty of the tall, stout clover at this early
period of the year is particularly noticeable, giving promise of a
wealth of harvests calculated to gladden the husbandman's heart, while
taxing the industry of the bees from dawn to twilight. We know of but
few vegetable products which so richly repay the cultivators as this
Maltese clover. Surely writers are not authorized to speak of this group
of islands in mid-sea, with all these facts before them, as consisting
mainly of a series of bare, weather-beaten rocks. Why mock and mislead
us by such misrepresentations? In the wildest and least cultivated
districts of Gozo, rosemary and thyme may be seen, showing that regal
Nature has her poetic moods even under adverse circumstances, and that
she often indulges her fancy in lonely places without regard to the cold
appreciation of heedless human eyes, sometimes in her charming caprice
outdoing more labored and artistic methods. "You will find something far
greater in the woods than you will find in books," says St. Bernard.

Regarding the origin of Gozo, Comino, and Malta, we have seen that
authorities differ materially. As if still more completely to mystify us
upon the subject, Borzesi, a Maltese writer of considerable ability, has
seriously attempted to prove that the group is formed of the summits of
mountains belonging to the lost land of Atalantis. Signor Grougnet, of
Valletta, had formerly in his possession a stone which was dug up from
among some ruins near the old capital of Citta Vecchia, in 1826, on
which was an inscription describing Atalantis, and another to the effect
that the Consul Tiberius Sempronius, in the year of Rome 536, ordered
the preservation of this stone. This is either an adroitly conceived
canard, or it is a suggestion worthy the attention of students of
antiquity.

Bidding farewell for a time to Gozo, let us now recross the Straits of
Freghi to Malta proper, there to enjoy the unequaled attractions and
delights of beautiful Valletta.




CHAPTER VIII.

      Valletta, Capital of Malta.--A Unique City.--Bright Faces,
      Flowers, and Sunshine.--Architecture.--L'Isle Adam and La
      Vallette, Grand Masters.--Mount Sceberris.--Stone Dwelling-
      Houses.--Streets of the Capital.--A Specialty.--Fancy Goods
      Merchants.--The Yacht Sunbeam.--Main Street of the City.--A
      Grand Opera House.--A St. Giles in Malta.--Strada Santa
      Lucia.--Street of Stairs.--Thoroughfares.--The Military
      Hospital.--Characteristic Street Scenes.--Emigration.


As the Grand Harbor of Malta is entered and the white battlements of
forts St. Elmo and Ricasoli are passed, one realizes the vast importance
of the situation. Those heavy guns rising tier upon tier are silent now,
but they are capable of doing fearful execution upon an approaching
enemy. Probably the access to no other seaport in the world is more
powerfully defended, unless it be that of Cronstadt, guarding the mouth
of the Neva and the passage leading up to the city of St. Petersburg.
Let us hope that such armaments may prove to be preventives and not
incentives to warfare. "How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds make
deeds ill done!" This is very true, and yet being prepared, fully
prepared, for it has doubtless often prevented war. It is calculated
that twenty-five thousand men would be required to properly man these
defensive works which hem about the town.

Few persons visiting this capital for the first time are prepared, on
landing at the broad stone steps near the Custom House, to find in this
isolated place a large and beautiful city whose historic associations
and architectural charms so admirably harmonize. Valletta is a genuine
surprise. Whatever preconceived idea the stranger may have formed
concerning it, he can hardly have approximated to the truth. Unique and
mystical, it constantly appeals in some new form to the imagination. It
strikes one at first as somewhat too pretentious in its endless
fortifications, palaces, hospitals, churches, public institutions,
theatres, and population, for a place so circumscribed geographically,
and of such seeming commercial unimportance. It will appear, presently,
as we progress in our Story of Malta, why and how such a full-fledged
city should have sprung, Minerva-like, into complete existence, without
experiencing the throes of incipient childhood, and the slow-ripening
capacities of maturity.

The capital is well-built in solid masses of dwellings, presenting an
unmistakable air of prosperity. One is reminded here and there of
Oriental Tangier, with a suggestion of scenes borrowed from Spanish
Granada. There are fascinating combinations everywhere, a succession of
attractive novelties and surprises constantly greeting the eye. The town
seems to be full of sunshine, of bright faces, and of flowers; at least
it is so here on the Strada Reale. Everybody is gay and animated. The
fountains laugh with rippling melody in the warm atmosphere, and the
blossoms on the fruit trees are more lovely and fragrant than the
bouquets which the pretty Maltese girls offer at such minimum prices.
There is a rich and constant glow of shifting color, the yellow
buildings reflecting light like burnished gold.

Surely it is good to be here, good to behold this charming phase of
foreign life, and to contrast it with other scenes more famous but far
less attractive. Paris is said to be the city of art and poetry, but
Valletta embodies both within itself, adding a third allurement as being
the city of romance and vivid history, which leaves upon the visitor's
brain a memorable vision of light, life, and color.

Lord Beaconsfield wrote of Valletta as being equal in its architecture
to any capital in Europe, but this is an exaggeration, and is incorrect.
It may, however, be fairly said to vie with any town on the shores of
the Mediterranean for the elegance of its construction and its general
effect. "If that fair city," says the authority which we have just
quoted, "with its streets of palaces, its picturesque forts and
magnificent church (that of St. John), only crowned some green and azure
island of the Ionian Sea, Corfu, for instance, I really think that the
ideal of landscape would be realized."

The prevailing style of the edifices is Italian and Moorish combined,
quite appropriate to the climate and habits of the people. The Knights
are said to have brought with them from Rhodes the style of building
which has been uniformly adopted here. The palaces now seen in the
capital of Malta are reproductions of those left in the former home of
the order, that "Garden of the Levant." There is an unmistakable flavor
of the Orient in nearly everything which the fraternity brought hither
from Rhodes, even extending, in no small degree, to their domestic
affairs, manners, and customs. Valletta, including the immediate suburb
of Floriana, is about two miles long and nearly a mile in width. After
Venice we know of no other city more strongly individualized or more
thoroughly mediaeval. There is no other capital with which it can
reasonably be compared; it stands quite alone, a populous city and
citadel combined. Like Gibraltar in purpose, it is as unlike that
far-famed rocky fortress and town as can well be conceived. It was
founded in 1566, by Jean de La Vallette, forty-fourth Grand Master of
the Knights of St. John, whose statue, together with that of the brave
and gallant L'Isle Adam, who preceded him in the important office, is to
be seen over the Porta Reale. The latter was the able defender of
Rhodes, the former was the hero of the great siege of Malta, in 1565.

Concerning the lives and achievements of both these remarkable historic
characters, we shall have occasion to speak more in detail as we
progress with our narrative.

The title proposed for the new capital by its founder was quite
characteristic of the man and the priest. It was _Umilissima_, that is,
"the humblest," but those who succeeded the Grand Master, and who
faithfully carried out nearly all of his many purposes, saw the eminent
propriety of calling it after his own name, and thus it became a fitting
and lasting monument to his memory. La Vallette died in 1568, after a
most remarkable and eventful career. In briefly reviewing his character,
we find many contradictory traits. He was brave, but cruel; a warm and
loyal friend, and yet a most determined and rigid disciplinarian with
one and all. Only the renowned pirate chief, Admiral Dragut, who was his
contemporary, exceeded him in terrible deeds of warfare, and yet he was
always profoundly devout in his religious instincts, and specially
observant of all the Romish church ceremonials and requirements. He is
believed to have lived more in accordance with his religious vows than
did nine tenths of the brotherhood over whom he presided. The Knights
often curbed their vicious and licentious inclinations, checked by the
force of his judicious example. He fearlessly led his people in every
great contest, whether at sea, when he was commander-in-chief of the
galleys, or on land, when contending with the Turks in a fierce
hand-to-hand conflict. Being a powerful man physically and an expert
swordsman, his flashing weapon dealt terrible execution wherever he
appeared. He bore upon his body many scars which had been received in
the van of battle, while gallantly fighting the infidel hosts for more
than forty years: first in Rhodes under L'Isle Adam, afterwards upon the
sea in the galleons of the order, finally and victoriously at Malta,
where his management of the great siege placed him in the foremost rank
of successful generals. This was the crowning heroic deed of his life.
La Vallette was unquestionably the grandest of the Grand Masters of the
order.

The original plan of the city of Valletta was not consummated until
1571, under the Grand Master Pietro del Monte, successor to Vallette,
who imported masons and artisans of all sorts in great numbers from
Sicily and Italy for this purpose. The original design was to cut down
the ridge of rocks which form Mount Sceberris, upon which the city now
stands, thus forming a plain only a few feet above the level of the
Mediterranean. But this idea was abandoned as involving too much time
and expense, and also on account of news received by the Grand Master
from his spies at Constantinople, to the effect that another expedition
was fitting out there to attack the island. So the new capital was
finally built upon the sloping ridge which makes the natural
conformation of the peninsula, rendering it necessary to build the
lateral streets into stairways in place of roadways. Nevertheless, it is
to-day the most attractive and interesting small city we have ever
visited.

Mount Sceberris is an Arabic name, signifying "the jutting out of the
cape." Like Asiatic names generally, it is very appropriate. Primitive
races have a happy inspiration in this direction. Minnehaha, "laughing
water," is an instance of apt and descriptive nomenclature born in the
brain of uncultured Dakota Indians. The highest point of the city
foundations is about two hundred feet above the level of the sea, into
which it projects considerably over three hundred yards, with a width of
twelve hundred, though it narrows at its seaward extremity and is lowest
where it joins the line of the mainland. The fort of St. Elmo--the
patron saint of mariners--crowns the narrowed point of the peninsula
seaward.

The streets, running at right angles, divide the buildings into large,
quadrangular groups. The houses, which are all flat-roofed, are guarded
by low parapets, and are universally built of stone picturesquely
carved, and ornamented by balconies of all sizes and patterns. The
native stone masons are natural artists in the carving of stone. There
is something in the very air of Italy, so close at hand, which engenders
artistic taste even among the common people.

Within the dwellings, the rooms are quite large and lofty, insuring good
ventilation. The floors, even to the upper stories, are composed of the
same material as the main structure. This cream- stone is the
outcrop of the latest geological period. The facility for obtaining this
material where the whole island might be worked as a stone quarry has
led to its general adaptation. It will be remembered that all wood, for
whatever use designed, must be imported. Charcoal is used for cooking
purposes, and so is anthracite coal. Wood is even more expensive than in
Paris. The dwellings front upon thoroughfares of fairly good width,
which are well paved and kept scrupulously neat and clean. When the
building stone of which the houses are constructed is quarried, it is so
soft that it can be easily moulded, or rather carved, into almost any
desired shape, but exposure to the atmosphere hardens it gradually to
the consistency of our American freestone. When newly quarried it is a
light yellow, and under the midday sunlight it is somewhat trying to the
eyes. Age tones down this effect to a sombre buff hue. It is found that
exposure to the atmosphere, which at first hardens this stone, in the
lapse of time causes the surface to peel off, or in other words a slow
process of disintegration takes place, which gives, by the mouldering
away of the surface of the stone, an appearance of great age. Any one
who has noticed the action of frost upon brown freestone in our New
England climate has a familiar example of what we describe.

The streets which run up the steep hillsides upon which the city is
terraced have broad stone steps by which they may be ascended, but are
quite inaccessible to wheeled vehicles, forming a sort of "Jacob's
ladder," more picturesque than comfortable for one having to surmount
them. The simile does not hold good as to angelic spirits ascending and
descending, as those who are thus occupied here are very decidedly of
mundane origin. These curious streets of stairs, over which Byron grew
profane, with their quaint overhanging balconies, and life-size saints
presiding at each corner, are indeed unique. Strada Santa Lucia, Strada
San Giovanni, and Strada San Domenicho are among these, with their gay
little shops opening upon the steps, while about the doors linger small
groups of gossiping customers. These lateral streets are of easy grade,
and if one does not hurry too much in coming up from the water front,
they will safely land him at last on a level with the Strada Reale. It
is easy to imagine one's self, for a moment, amid these curious
surroundings, spirited away to another sphere, to some distant bourne
whence travelers do not return to write books. At Bahia, in Brazil, the
public ascend from the lower to the upper town, some two hundred
perpendicular feet, by means of an elevator. Why might not Valletta be
thus supplied?

The principal thoroughfare is the Strada Reale, lined on either side
with attractive shops, which display choice fancy goods, jewelry, silks,
photographs, gold and silver filigree work, and rich old lace. The
goldsmiths of Malta are justly praised for the excellence of their work,
original in design and exquisite in its finish. The ornamental articles
of web-like silver are nowhere else produced in greater perfection. They
recall the silver work found at Trichinopoli, India, the product of the
natives there, and the more familiar manufacture of Genoa. The Maltese
women are particularly skillful in the embroidery of muslin, and the
scarfs and shawls which they produce are not inferior to the best which
come from Turkey. They are often sold to foreigners as the work of
Constantinople artists. We say artists, for these goods are as much a
work of art as any piece of statuary, or a well-finished oil painting.
One other specialty must not be forgotten, for which Valletta is noted
just as that Rhine city of cathedral fame is for cologne. A preparation
of orange-flower water is distilled here, which constitutes a most
delightful perfume, very popular with strangers. It is a choice
delicacy, suitable for many purposes. A wine-glass of this distillation
added to a bathing-tub of warm water makes a bath fit for the gods,
having an excellent effect upon the skin, opening the pores, and
removing all foreign matter.

The shops on the Strada Reale are liberally patronized by visitors to
the island, nearly all of whom are desirous of carrying away with them
some attractive souvenir of Malta. It is computed that the passengers by
each P. & O. steamship which stops at the port on its way east or west
leave on an average five or six hundred dollars distributed among the
fancy goods merchants, and we should say this is a very moderate
estimate. A considerable amount of money is also expended by the owners
of private steam and sailing yachts, which are constantly arriving at or
departing from Valletta. The purchases of this latter class of customers
are often of the most lavish character. A storekeeper on this
thoroughfare told the author that the late Lady Brassey purchased goods
costing her a thousand pounds sterling, during the few days in which the
Sunbeam lay in the harbor. It is hardly necessary to remark that these
accommodating and enterprising merchants do not part with their goods
without realizing a handsome profit. There is a familiar saying among
the English residents in the island to the effect that "a Gibraltar Jew
starves alongside of a Maltese tradesman;" and still another, quite as
significant, to this effect: "It takes seven Jews to cheat one Maltese."

It is well to remember one characteristic of the mode of doing business
here. As in most of the Eastern bazaars, and also in the shops of Spain
and Italy, the local merchant does not expect the purchaser of his goods
to pay the first price which he names for them. It is often the case
that he is quite prepared to sell at fifty per cent. less. A certain
amount of dickering seems to be considered necessary, and it is in fact
the life of trade in Valletta and Alexandria. The dealer, after he has
specified the price of any given article, regards the customer with an
air of serene indifference, as though it did not matter to him in the
least whether he sells his goods or not. All the while, however, he is
secretly exercised by an intense anxiety lest you should not purchase.
If one really desires an article, it is pretty safe to offer half the
sum which is at first demanded, and nine times in ten it will consummate
the bargain. It is an illegitimate mode of doing business, but one which
is common in many parts of the world.

Speaking of the yacht Sunbeam recalls some pleasant memories. It has
been the author's privilege to meet that graceful craft in various
foreign ports, and to have known its cultured mistress. The last time he
saw this white-hulled rover was in the harbor of Sidney, Australia. It
was on the passage thence that Lady Brassey died of malarial fever, and
was buried in the bosom of the ocean which she loved so well. Lord
Brassey, who is an excellent seaman and practical navigator, fully
shared with his accomplished companion this fondness for ocean
adventure. The cabin of the Sunbeam was fitted with all the accessories
of a lady's boudoir, and with charming good taste. It was a veritable
museum of choice bricabrac, not an article of which was without its
pleasant association, a token to stimulate agreeable memories. One who
wrote so delightfully of her foreign experiences could not fail to draw
inspiration from such surroundings. All parts of the known world had
contributed to the adornment of her cabin, including domestic articles
from the South Sea Islands, Fiji weapons, African symbols, Samoan
curiosities, Chinese idols and oddities, Japanese screens, and Satsuma
ware of rarest beauty.

Let us not wander too far afield. We were speaking of the main
thoroughfare of Valletta.

This central street, which runs very nearly north and south, contains a
number of fairly good hotels, three or four banks, besides several good
restaurants and boarding-houses. It is a favorite promenade, day and
evening, being well lighted by gas. A large and imposing opera house of
the Grecian order is situated at the highest point of the Strada Reale,
near to the Porta Reale,--"Royal Gate." The elaborate edifice is finely
ornamented with Corinthian columns. If its traditions are correct,
Adelina Patti made her debut at this house. Patti was then quite
unknown, and is said to have received one pound sterling for her part of
the performance on the occasion; to-day she realizes one thousand pounds
sterling for a similar service in America. Though her voice evinces the
corroding power of time, she is unquestionably queen of the operatic
stage. That there is excellent music dispensed at this fine Maltese
opera house one can easily believe, remembering the proximity of the
land of song. The edifice was originally built in 1864, but was
partially destroyed by fire in 1873, a fate which seems sooner or later
to befall all such places of amusement. It was promptly rebuilt, with
many and costly improvements, so that it is now as complete an operatic
establishment as those of Naples and Milan. It cost the Maltese
exchequer over fifty thousand pounds sterling. So elaborate and
pretentious a structure to be devoted to this purpose was hardly
demanded in a community of the proportions of Valletta, and
consequently, when the full amount of its cost was made public, there
was considerable fault found with those officials who were responsible
for such lavish outlay of the public funds. The opera season is from the
middle of October to the middle of May, the performances being given
three times each week. There is another theatre close to the square of
St. George, known as the Teatro Manoel. This is a much older though
quite as popular a place of amusement, and antedates the grand opera
house a full century.

The edifices on the Strada Reale are generally three stories high, many
of them large and luxuriously planned. They are mostly occupied as
dwelling-houses above the first floor, the latter being usually devoted
to some sort of shop. When they are not improved for this purpose, the
lower windows are guarded with large, protruding iron bars, such as are
commonly seen in the cities of Italy,--more suggestive than ornamental.
It is probably custom rather than necessity which prompts to this
fashion. There is a certain incongruity in passing through a populous
thoroughfare where the lower windows are thus barricaded, while bright
children and happy family groups are visible behind the frowning bars.
There is no absolute danger of mistaking these residences for prisons or
insane asylums.

The taste displayed in the architecture upon the Strada Reale makes it
both quaint and beautiful; though it is very irregular in expression and
after no fixed order, still it is not without a certain fascination and
harmony of general effect. The facades exhibit here and there curious
armorial bearings, emblems of their former knightly occupants, but
atmospheric influences are gradually obliterating these interesting
mementoes. Many were purposely effaced by the French during their brief
mastership, who waged a bitter warfare against all titles or insignia
representative of other than military rank. Judging by this immediate
neighborhood alone, one would surmise that the town was especially
cleanly and quite devoid of low or miserable quarters; but that there
are vile, unwholesome dens here, where decency is entirely lost sight
of, in certain lanes, narrow streets, and out-of-the-way places, no one
can deny. So it is in all large capitals. Are New York, Boston, and
Chicago entirely exempt from such conditions? We do not agree, however,
with those who have given Malta a specially bad name in this respect.
There is a section of the town leading from the Strada Forni, known as
the _Manderaggio_, which signifies "a place for cattle," where the poor
and needy of the lowest class herd together like animals. Why some
deadly disease does not break forth and sweep away the people is a
mystery. Yet even this questionable neighborhood is no worse in its
debasement than the Five Points of New York used to be within the
writer's memory. There can be no reasonable doubt that the average
condition of the place, as regards morality, is of a far more desirable
character than it was during the sovereignty of the famous--we had
almost written infamous--Knights, whose priestly harems were simply
notorious, and whose dissolute lives were unrestrained by law or
self-respect. One thing we can confidently assert: there is nothing here
so vile and so grossly immoral as Chinatown in San Francisco, and
nothing worse than may be seen any day in St. Giles's, London, or the
Latin Quarter of Paris.

How closely the lines of civilization and of barbarism intersect each
other in all populous centres!

Valletta is well policed; rowdiness does not obtrude itself upon the
stranger. Even the annoying importunities of the beggars in some parts
of the town are not carried beyond the bounds of respectful, though
earnest solicitation.

Along the course of the Strada Reale,--the Broadway of the
capital,--which the French called, after the style of that period, Rue
des Droits de l'Homme, at the corners where the cross-streets intersect
it, graceful little kiosks are erected, painted in fanciful colors,
whose occupants, like those seen upon the Parisian boulevards and the
busy thoroughfares of Rio Janeiro, sell flowers, bonbons, coffee, fruit,
and newspapers. The pretty Maltese girls, with dark, brilliant,
beseeching eyes, who preside in these kiosks, are natural coquettes.
Like the occupants of the tall booths in the flower market of
Marseilles, coquetry is a most available part of their stock in trade. A
winning smile will sell a bouquet more readily than the most eloquent
oral appeal. These flower girls are kept quite busy making up and
disposing of buttonhole bouquets at certain hours of the day, to adorn
strangers and native dudes, from whose presence no locality is quite
exempt.

This main avenue is the highest street in the city, and runs along the
crest of the hill upon which Valletta is situated. The site gives the
place natural facility for drainage, and the sanitary conditions seem to
be excellent. Every one agrees that the capital is a healthy one, all
things considered.

Let us enter, for a moment, one of the dwellings on the main
thoroughfare, and leave behind the hot sunshine, which seems striving to
set everything on fire in the Strada Reale.

Passing in through a lofty vestibule leading to an open court or patio,
as the Spaniards call it, we come upon a maze of flowering shrubs, small
orange-trees in boxes, and other floral charms. A miniature fountain in
the centre of the area is very busy in sustaining at the apex of its
tiny stream a hollow glass ball of vivid hue, an innocent act of aquatic
legerdemain. The air is perfumed with fragrant flowers, and there is a
cooling sensation in the gurgle of the fountain. There rises from this
area a winding stone stairway, conducting to a gallery, from which
doorways lead into the several apartments. These rooms can be thrown
together so as to give the effect of a large hall, by opening the wide
connecting doors. The apartments are spacious and lofty, being at least
twelve or fifteen feet in height. There is not much in the way of
furniture to describe in this reception-room which we have entered,
which typifies the rest. It is lined with comfortable divans, and the
glazed tiles of the floor are covered here and there with small Persian
rugs. A few quaint old portraits of the Knights of St. John hang upon
the walls, grim and ghostly in their expression, together with a large
oval mirror of Venetian make. A lesser one hangs opposite, which plays
queer tricks with the faces and figures presented to its glistening
surface. A spacious table of dark wood occupies the centre of this
spacious room, having four or five antique chairs with tall backs ranged
beside it. There are no books, no small articles of bricabrac to be
seen, and there is a sense of emptiness and bareness which oppresses
one. It must have been the residence of some bachelor Knight, say a
hundred years ago; to-day it is a boarding-house. Out of this large room
a bay window or balcony opens, containing a mass of fragrant flowers
gracefully disposed, showing a woman's taste and a woman's hand. Such is
a Maltese drawing-room on the Strada Reale. One can take an apartment
here and dine at a neighboring restaurant, and live very cheaply, if
economy be a special object.

Each of the steep, narrow passageways which run down to the water's edge
from the Strada Reale bears the name of some patron saint. Strada Santa
Lucia is a typical street of this character, with its many tiresome
stone steps, not one of which is level from end to end. The Imperial
Hotel, so called, is upon this street. English and American visitors who
are passing a few days here generally choose the Hotel Angleterre, on
the Strada Stretta. There are half a dozen avenues which run parallel
with the main thoroughfare of the city. Strada Mercanti is the most
important of them. On this avenue there are several large public
institutions, including the post-office, the Monte di Pieta, and the
principal market. The latter is situated in the centre of the town, at
the back of the governor's palace. Flies and beggars congregate here in
almost equal numbers, forcing upon one's attention the puzzling problem
of hunger and plenty existing in juxtaposition. Here and there are seen
the spacious and elegant palaces formerly occupied by the rich,
comfort-loving, luxurious Knights, which are now devoted to English
government offices, as barracks, a public library, and law courts, or
are improved for club purposes. It is a wealthy nation which holds
sovereignty in Malta to-day, and her officials, civil or military, are
lodged like princes. The original Auberge de Provence, with its cool,
attractive corridors and lofty apartments, is occupied by the Union
Club, and the Auberge de l'Auvergne, equally palatial, is now used as
the Court of Justice.

The Order of St. John began its career humbly enough among the pilgrims
of Jerusalem, by taking upon itself vows of chastity, self-abnegation,
and poverty; but it ended in palaces, gross immorality, and undisguised
debauchery. Its lowly birth in that sacred Syrian city was grand and
noble in purpose, but ultimate success, together with the acquirement of
power, fame, and riches, acted as adulterants to the original
conception. Being only mortals, the Knights gave way freely to the
weaknesses of humanity. This perversion of the fundamental design of
the order was the natural presage of its gradual decline and final
downfall.

The principal streets of Valletta which run parallel with the Strada
Reale are Strada Forni, Strada Mercanti, Strada St. Paolo, Strada Zecca,
and Strada St. Ursula. The second named, as we have already intimated,
is the most important next to Strada Reale. Upon it is situated the
large military hospital which was erected in 1628, and which contains
four hundred beds. One apartment in this institution is nearly five
hundred feet long, exceeding in size any room or hall in Europe. In this
establishment the Knights were accustomed to serve by turns as day and
night nurses,--as "Hospitallers," in fact, and thus to keep good their
claim to the original title of the order.

Bonaparte, when he was in possession of Valletta, pronounced this civil
and military hospital to be the most perfect institution of the sort in
the world. It was lavishly conducted during the sovereignty of the
Knights, no regard being had for expense, and there was no advantage
known to the medical profession of the period which was not to be
obtained within its walls.

Street scenes are always significant of the character of a people. Here,
after the style which prevails in southern Europe, all sorts of trades
are carried on in the open air upon the streets. As on the Neapolitan
Chiaja, people live out of doors, invited by the mildness of the
climate. Barbers, tailors, shoemakers, tinkers, and basket-makers ply
their several callings in public, quite unsheltered by any sort of
device, except that of seeking the shady side of the thoroughfare. The
effect is at least to present an industrious appearance. It nevertheless
seems rather odd to see a man, his face frosty with lather, in process
of shaving under such circumstances, or to watch an individual posing
upon the sidewalk while being modeled in wax by a native itinerant
artist. This, by the way, is a specialty here, and its followers acquire
great facility, with a true artistic touch.

Several of the minor streets are devoted to special occupations, such as
the Strada Irlandese, "Irish Street," which, is well-filled with
blacksmith's shops; in the Strada Levante dwell stone-cutters and
ship-chandlers; another section is occupied by basket and chair makers,
while in a fourth coffin-makers congregate. So, in the City of Mexico,
one street near the great market is entirely devoted to the shops of
coffin-makers, who have florid signs displayed which indicate their
calling, and mural caskets hanging upon the shop fronts.

The crowded condition of the population suggests emigration, which is a
necessary recourse in these islands. Many of the Maltese are to be found
distributed among the several Mediterranean ports, especially at
Gibraltar, Tangier, Tripoli, and Constantinople. They are quite
unmistakable wherever they are met, retaining under all circumstances a
strong individuality, and using only their native tongue. The men are
sought for by sea-captains who navigate these waters, being as a rule
excellent seamen, prompt and obedient. Like the Sicilians, they are
quick-tempered and passionate, though not particularly quarrelsome. If
they are allowed to carry a knife, they are liable to make use of it in
a quarrel. As it is the men and not the women who emigrate, there is a
preponderance of the latter sex in Malta.

These Maltese women are often very charming, especially in their figures
and general bearing. No youthful person can be ugly while possessing
such eyes as Heaven has been pleased to give them. They have almost
universally a gentleness of manner which is in itself a great attraction
in women. That their charms are evanescent must be frankly admitted;
they marry early in their teens, and grow old quickly, like the women of
the fellah class in Egypt, who when young are really beautiful,
exquisite in form and graceful in every movement, but who fade rapidly
under the cares of maternity and the labor of the fields. The
occupations of the Maltese women, however, are of a far less wearing
nature.

One never wearies of wandering about Valletta. There is somehow, amid
the scenes encountered in these quaint streets, a suggestion of the
Arabian Nights which haunts one all the while, only a degree less
forcibly than at Cairo. It would seem to be quite the thing were
Haroun-al-Raschid Grand Master here, accompanied by his favorite
minister Jaafar, and there is ample material from which Ali Baba might
recruit his Forty Thieves. May not this fellow who is crying in Arabic
some mysterious merchandise upon the Strada Reale have new lamps to
exchange for old ones? We only require a score of over-laden donkeys and
a few mournful looking camels to complete the Oriental picture.




CHAPTER IX.

      Ophthalmia.--Profusion of Flowers.--Inland Villages.--
      Educational Matters.--Public Amusements.--Maltese Carnival.
      --Italian Carnival.--Under English Rule.--No Direct
      Taxation.--Code of Laws.--A Summer Palace.--Governor-General
      Smyth.--San Antonio Gardens.--Wages.--Oranges.--Life's
      Contrasts.--Swarming Beggars.--Social Problem.--Churches
      crowded with Riches.--Starving Population.--A Mexican
      Experience.


Nearly every locality which is visited by travelers is found to have
some special annoyance which is active in its warfare upon humanity.
Thus diseases of the eye prevail among the common people of Malta as
they do in Egypt, a trouble in both countries which is caused by the
fervor of the sun's rays and the general lack of shade, not forgetting
also an evident want of cleanliness. The author has seen native
camel-drivers come into Egyptian cities from across the desert quite
blind for the time being from continuous exposure to the sun's rays and
the powerful reflection of the heated sand. The same effect arises from
the yellow stone dwellings of Valletta, and the bare rocks inland
aggravate the prevailing trouble. So Arctic explorers, living amid the
constant glare of the snow-fields, are subject to ophthalmia, an
affliction which they guard against by wearing snow-goggles. In the
Maltese capital, as in Cairo, there is a fine dust permeating the
atmosphere when the wind blows, charged with silex and animal
impurities, which finds lodgment in the eyes. The ordinary people have
no predilection for the use of water wherewith to cleanse their hands
and faces, consequently such matter accumulates in these delicate
organs, first irritating, then poisoning them. Ulceration follows, and
insects--especially flies, which are a great pest in Malta--carry the
virus from one person to another, creating, in warm weather, an epidemic
of sore eyes. Children are most frequently the sufferers; and this
disease, commencing with them when they are of tender age, is liable to
become chronic.

Nine tenths of the inhabitants of the group are professed Roman
Catholics. One meets a priest or cowled monk at every turn in the public
streets, as well as upon the roads inland. They usually wear a
characteristic black robe, together with an impossible hat, very broad
of brim and turned up at the sides. There are said to be about two
thousand priests in these islands, whose physical appearance certainly
indicates free and generous diet, not to say luxurious living. The
reader may imagine what a strong contrast they furnish to the hungry,
begging masses of the town whom they pass by with the most utter
indifference. One is fain to ask, Does it ever strike the people, who
are taxed so heavily to support these "walking delegates" of the church
in idleness, that there must be something radically wrong in a system
which fattens a priest by starving a laborer? The conduct of church
affairs should be just as amenable to consistency and sound common
sense as any of the affairs of life. The Maltese, unfortunately, have a
paucity of reason and a plethora of priests.

Flowers are abundant in Valletta, and, as already intimated, are
marvelously cheap and beautiful, thus arguing a certain degree of public
taste and refinement in the community, which makes it profitable to
raise them. "That man cannot be mean and deceitful," said a shrewd,
cultured woman, and a good judge of human nature, "he is so fond and
careful of flowers." Seeing a bouquet prettily backed with maidenhair
fern, we asked if it was cultivated here, and were told that the plant
grew wild in some of the caves of Comino, near at hand. In the environs
of the capital there is a hamlet named Casal Attard, that is, "the
village of roses;" there is also a Casal Luca, "the village of poplars;"
and still another, Casal Zebbug, signifying, "the village of olives;" a
simple but very appropriate system of nomenclature. Casal Luca is mostly
inhabited by stone masons and quarrymen; indeed, the whole district
about the hamlet is one large quarry. The church in this thrifty village
contains three admirable and well-remembered paintings by that
illustrious artist, Mattia Preti.

There are twenty-six small casals in Malta proper, the larger number of
which are on the eastern end of the island, and all of them are very
much alike. They are divided by narrow streets, designed to exclude the
powerful rays of the summer sun, while the low stone houses are full to
repletion of children and Arabic-speaking people with Oriental
proclivities. Though there are beggars by the score along the roads and
in the villages, there are no other obvious tokens of poverty. Indeed,
there is a general appearance of thrift. It is in populous centres, in
large cities, that real want and hunger are mostly suffered, where from
force of circumstances the multitude of people cease to be producers,
but are still consumers. Each of these casals has its school, wherein,
it is said, the government tries to introduce the English language, but
it would seem with indifferent success. Those who are sovereign here
appear to be too indifferent in this matter. There is a well-organized
college at Valletta, where degrees are conferred in divinity, law, and
physic. To our inquiry of an intelligent citizen touching this subject,
he promptly replied: "Education in Malta is cheap, bad, and neglected."
This is only too true, though all the civilized world admits it to be
the great and most effective weapon of Christianity and progress. The
most effective missionary who can be dispatched to foreign lands is the
competent school-teacher. Tenets of faith will adjust themselves in
accordance with reason, among those who are rendered sufficiently
intelligent to think for themselves. The ignorance of a large portion of
the Maltese villagers is absolutely deplorable. They have no recognized
language in literature; and if they had, they could neither read nor
write it. They are quite uninformed even upon the most common current
events. An English gentleman (Mr. Seddall), who lived some years at
Malta, declared that they were not a whit better educated than the
Bedouin Arabs. As a conclusive evidence of this, he tells us in print:
"A laboring man once informed me that the Sultan was the supreme ruler
of the island." The same author says: "The priests oppose all
enlightenment of the masses." This is not anything new, as it is their
known and admitted policy everywhere; but in the multitude of witnesses
we arrive at the truth.

The school system of Valletta was reorganized a few years ago, but it is
still far behind the general progressive ideas of our times. Education
is not compulsory here.

The popular entertainments of a people form a good criterion for
judgment as to their general character. The amusement which seems to be
most generally resorted to in Malta is that of parading through the
streets in a special garb, while displaying various banners in
celebration of certain church festivals. As in the ritual of the Roman
Catholic Church there are some two hundred such days in the year marked
for similar displays, the festivities of this sort appear to be chronic,
and absolutely pall upon one. The natives are inclined also to make
these occasions an excuse for undue indulgences, and carelessness of
conduct generally. The Carnival is also made much of by the common
people, and indeed it would seem that all classes participate. It begins
on the Sunday preceding Lent and lasts three days, during which period
the populace engage, to the exclusion of nearly all other occupations,
in a sort of good-natured riot, not always harmless. The most ludicrous
and extravagant conduct prevails, the actors being generally masked and
otherwise disguised. Hardly anything that occurs and which is designed
only for diversion, and not instigated by malice, is too absurd for
forgiveness. Ladies are ready to engage in a battle royal from their
balconies, using confetti, dried peas, beans, and flowers, which they
merrily shower upon the passers-by with all possible force. Sometimes,
but this is not often, unpleasant missiles are employed and serious
quarrels ensue. The day after the close of the Carnival, those who have
taken any extravagant part in the revels, or who have been over
self-indulgent, repair to the small church of Casal Zabbar, called Della
Grazia, where they humble themselves by way of penance for their follies
and excesses. It must be admitted that under shelter of the large
liberty which the occasion of the Carnival renders possible, many
otherwise quite inadmissible acts are perpetrated, and that as a whole
this peculiar celebration is terribly demoralizing to all classes of the
community.

A story of a tragic character is told, having a sad local interest, and
which was a natural outcome of the carnival season. It happened not long
ago. On the last day of the revels, when extravagance of costume and
conduct had reached its climax, when the actors strove to so carefully
disguise themselves as to render discovery impossible, a certain popular
beauty of the humble class was being pursued, complimented, and plied
with bonbons by a masked individual, to the great, disgust and annoyance
of a youth who was her acknowledged lover. It seems that the conspicuous
attention thus bestowed by a new aspirant for her favor was not entirely
displeasing to the youthful beauty. The fact that her accepted lover
evinced great jealousy at this condition of affairs seemed to spur on
both the girl and her newly devoted companion. At last, jealousy so
wrought upon the passion of the neglected lover that, seizing a
favorable moment for his purpose, he plunged his knife to the hilt in
the breast of the unknown rival. The wounded man fell to the ground,
bathed in his own blood, and his mask was promptly removed to give him
breathing space. He who had given the fatal blow escaped. To the
amazement of all, the dying youth was recognized as the girl's own
brother, who was merely enacting a Carnival deception. The man who dealt
the murderous blow has never since been heard from, but the
broken-hearted girl, who was by no means blameless, soon entered a
convent and donned the irrevocable veil.

Once since the English held possession here, a Scotchman was sent to
Malta as governor, a devout Presbyterian, who conscientiously endeavored
to abolish the noisy celebration of the Carnival on the Sabbath. This so
angered the people that it very nearly led to an open and general
rebellion against English rule. The occasion was not without bloodshed,
though the governor did not push matters to extremes. Their
parishioners were secretly spurred on by the priesthood, who were only
too happy to find an opportunity to make trouble for the Protestants.

Some of those who read these pages will doubtless remember the Carnival
as it occurred annually in the principal cities of Italy a few years
ago, in Venice, Naples, Milan, and Rome, but more particularly in the
last named capital. The Italian populace would no more be content
without the annual Carnival than the Spaniards would without their cruel
bullfights. The difference between these nationalities is clearly
evinced in these two exhibitions. The Italians are passionate and quick
to quarrel, but as a rule they are not cruel, a trait which is, however,
wrought into the very web and woof of Spanish character.

The Roman Corso is vividly recalled by the mere mention of the Carnival,
a specially Italian celebration. Through that narrow thoroughfare the
spirited and riderless horses, clad in barbed trappings which spurred
them at every leap, rushed at wild speed until brought to a sudden halt
by the heavy ropes stretched across the entrance of the Piazza del
Popolo. In a similar manner, on high festive occasions the Strada Reale
of Valletta was turned into a racecourse, though it is by no means
level, like the Roman Corso. Intoxicated with mirth, frolic, and
mischief, the motley Roman crowd, the better class of whom, men and
women, wear masks, filled the atmosphere of the Piazza di Spagna with
ribald songs and laughter. The streets which lead into and out of this
central square were crowded with hilarious people dressed in
caricature, all busily engaged in practical jokes and mimic warfare.
Harlequins, gods and goddesses, clowns, spirits of good and evil, all
were represented. Priests and peasants were depicted with their several
belongings, together with members of the learned professions. Those who
assumed these characters strove to be ludicrously consistent therewith.
Foreign lookers-on sometimes mingled with the crowd, from which they
were only too glad to escape after being decorated with mud, and having
their tall hats driven down over their eyes and their coats turned
inside out! To the crowd it was fun, but it was anything but amusing to
the victims. Three days and nights of this pandemonium ended the mad
frolic. To-day, in Rome as in Malta, the Carnival is losing its popular
interest. Horses no longer rush furiously through the Corso, and there
are but few maskers on the streets. The occasion is not forgotten in
Milan, Florence, or Turin. It still lingers with some of its pristine
extravagance in Venice, but its "glory" has departed.

The reader will perhaps sympathize with the exuberant memory of the
writer, when it breaks forth for a moment recalling these vivid scenes
of past experience.

Let us return once more to Valletta.

The British government seems willing not to interfere to any
considerable extent in the domestic or religious affairs of the islands.
An unequaled military and naval station is secured to England in the
Mediterranean, that is the main point. The loyalty of the people to the
British Queen is quite a secondary consideration. Were the Maltese to
break out in a rebellious mood, they would be instantly and ruthlessly
crushed. Their position would be in no way improved. The privileges
which they enjoy would be greatly curtailed, and their political
condition would assimilate to that of the subjected and down-trodden
tribes of India. As we have said, there is no direct taxation imposed
upon the Maltese. The rents of the government lands, together with
customs, licenses, etc., bring in an annual revenue of about two hundred
and sixty thousand pounds sterling, which is calculated to be quite
sufficient. Malta is considered to be self-supporting, in the political
acceptation of the term, so far as England is concerned. In fact, a
small balance appears on the right side of the account toward the
support of the large military organization held here in reserve at all
times, and from which, in case of an emergency, she could draw for
service elsewhere. Gibraltar, Malta, and Aden, the latter at the mouth
of the Red Sea, form important links in the chain of British outposts
guarding the route to her possessions in India. During the ninety-two
years of English occupancy, the group has steadily increased in
population, wealth, and productiveness. Were England to give up Malta,
it would under some specious pretext fall into the hands of Germany,
France, Italy, or Russia. It is far too insignificant in itself to
maintain its independence, and too important in its strategic position
not to be controlled by some one of the great nations.

As regards the code of laws recognized by the local courts, in
conversation with a native advocate it was found that that of Malta was
of a very confused character. These laws are based upon old Roman
legislation, amended by ecclesiastical enactments brought hither by the
Knights, and fortified by provisionary regulations issued by the several
Grand Masters, and designed to meet special cases. The system is,
indeed, a standing puzzle to the judges themselves. However, as the
Maltese are not a contentious people, but on the contrary are most
docile and easily governed, the authorities find no great
stumbling-block in the legal code. When in doubt, they have always
English common law to fall back upon, and being masters of the position,
there is no appeal from the decisions rendered by the English judges.
Here as elsewhere, litigation is an expensive luxury, in which only
those with full purses can indulge. The petty courts are quite
sufficient to keep the masses of the people in proper discipline. The
large garrison constitutes the most restless element, but as its members
are amenable to martial law, which is always prompt and decisive, good
order is easily preserved. Trial by jury has been applied to all crimes
since 1855. It was first introduced in certain criminal cases as early
as 1829, but its scope was extended in 1844, and as we have said, it now
applies to crimes of whatever nature.

The governor's summer palace is situated at Casal Lia,--known as San
Antonio,--about five miles from the city, where the chief official makes
his home during a portion of the year. The incumbent of the office at
this writing is General Sir Henry Augustus Smyth, who receives a salary
of twenty-five thousand dollars per annum. Sir Henry is also
commander-in-chief of the troops stationed at Malta. San Antonio is on
the road from Valletta to Citta Vecchia, just before one reaches Casal
Attard,--"the village of roses," with its fine old stone church. The
"palace," as it is called at San Antonio, is spacious and handsome.
Though it is quite plain architecturally, the surroundings are very
beautiful, consisting of extensive gardens, artificial ponds, musical
fountains, and myriads of thrifty fruit trees, the latter laden with
blossoms or golden fruit, such as oranges, lemons, pomegranates,
citrons, figs, and limes. The terraced grounds are connected by easy
stone steps, inviting the visitor to ramble in all directions. A
superficial view of the group gives no promise of such a lovely spot of
ground, borrowed, it would almost seem, from fairy-land, or, as the
Moors were wont to say of Andalusia, "a favored region dropped from
Paradise." Gorgeous butterflies, fragrant geraniums, scarlet and purple
verbenas, graceful lindens, glutinous honeysuckles, and ever-fragrant
roses, all combined to attract the eye and delight the senses. One is
reminded of the low lands of Florida and Louisiana, where the air at
certain seasons is heavily laden with the perfume of the lotus-like
magnolia, empress of the everglades. Very enchanting were the hours
passed at San Antonio, beneath its cool green shades. One can never
forget how brilliant was the floral display, how soft the atmosphere,
and how glorious the sunshine.

Maltese gardeners understand their business, in the various combinations
of which a tangible poem may be written by one loving his calling and
with a genius for floriculture. Great care is taken as regards the
fitness of one color or form placed in juxtaposition with another; a
group of ornamental trees harmonizes with its surroundings, and even the
fruits are classified with an eye to their fitness for companionship. An
inartistic arrangement in a garden will jar upon the eye of a critical
observer, even as the ear is shocked by a discord in music. It has been
finely said: "To cultivate a garden is to walk with God, to go hand in
hand with Nature in some of her most beautiful processes, and to learn
something of her choicest secrets."

"How much is paid for the services of a capable gardener here?" we asked
of the guide.

"About two shillings per day. How much is paid in America?" he inquired.

"Not less than ten shillings," was our answer.

The incredulity of the guide was written upon his countenance, but he
made no reply.

The grounds of San Antonio, like all garden plats in Malta, are
protected by high stone walls. Here, they reach upward eighteen or
twenty feet, above which, here and there, a few towering dark green
cypress-trees are seen, standing like watchful sentinels guarding the
palace grounds. The large number of productive orange-trees makes the
place like a garden of Hesperides. The Knights of old--this having been
the summer residence of the former Grand Masters--are said to have
realized a large income from the sale of the fruit ripened in these
grounds. The orange grove contains over three thousand trees, which
would excite the envy of a successful Florida cultivator by their
thriftiness. In a favorite corner were some specimens of the evergreen
loquat; its long, overshadowing leaves and peculiar yellow fruit
reminded one of the attractive gardens of Hong Kong. At this season
fine, luscious oranges sell in the market of Valletta at twelve or
fifteen cents per dozen, while large quantities are packed and exported,
realizing profitable returns. The royal family of England has a regular
supply of this fruit forwarded from these islands, especially the
fragrant and luscious tangerine, or mandarin species, which lies so
loosely within its crumpled skin as to require only a touch to remove
it. The natural covering of this orange is full of a highly concentrated
and richly flavored oil, whence a superior perfume is produced, and also
a flavoring extract. The fruits of Malta, being grown on an arid soil,
are more juicy and savory than is usual in tropical regions, where they
develop to an abnormal size, and where, if the soil is too rich, the
pulp becomes spongy.

San Antonio is one of the loveliest and greenest spots on the island.
The view of the sea, city, and harbor from some of the elevated points
of the gardens is charming. Here the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh
resided for a considerable time, and here one of their children,
Princess Victoria Melita, was born, in 1877. She is said to be the only
British princess ever born in a foreign dependency of England.

The fee of the property of San Antonio is in the British government,
having passed into its possession by right of conquest, like all other
property formerly belonging to the Order of St. John in these islands.
Pleasure unalloyed is not to be found on the earth. That we are in
terrestrial regions, and not in Paradise, is made clearly manifest not
only in this fruitful garden, but also in some decided form wherever we
seek enjoyment. The prominent objection to this beautiful location is
the maddening discomfort of flies and mosquitoes, for the place swarms
with them during four months of the year. It is a happy provision of
nature that we remember best the pleasures of our experiences in foreign
travel, and soon lose the recollection of the annoyances which we
encounter. One can dismiss the mosquito pest; but as we write these
lines there comes back to us, like a half-forgotten strain of music, the
recollection of sweet-smelling syringas, lilacs, and lemon verbena,
mingled with the all-pervading Maltese orange blossoms. Taken as a
whole, San Antonio is a perfect Gan-Eden, a garden of delights in which
to linger and to dream, forming a sort of fairy world, peopled with
blossoms, where wood-nymphs might hold their moonlight revels.

This is very pleasant to relate and to remember; it is enchanting for
the time being, and puts one at peace with all human nature; but as we
have just illustrated, in the instance of San Antonio, there is always a
reverse side to the picture.

Let us glance for a moment at the every-day street life of the Maltese
capital.

The observant stranger is struck with sadness upon first landing in
Valletta at sight of the swarming hordes of the unemployed who throng
the shore and some of the public squares of the city. He sees before him
an ignorant, hopeless, poor, hungry mass of humanity, and wonders where
these people can obtain sufficient bread to keep them from starving. The
manifest poverty of the prolific lower classes of Malta is appalling to
the political economist. Who would dare to sound the depth of this sea
of human want and misery, the daily lot of these hordes of half-fed men?
While looking upon such a scene, a resident with whom we were in company
was asked: "Where can this army of poor, portionless creatures bestow
themselves at night?" The reply was brief and significant: "They have
always the sky over them!" Doubtless a large percentage of these people
sleep on the bare ground, or rather on the flat stones leading up the
lateral streets, with a step for a pillow, like homeless dogs, wherever
drowsiness overtakes them. Fortunately, in this climate the poor do not
suffer from cold under any ordinary circumstances. We were told by our
companion that many of these lazzaroni were heedless rogues and
professional thieves, without the least moral sense of right and wrong.
Who can be surprised at the dishonesty of such poor, ignorant creatures?
_Is_ it dishonesty, this feverish, irregular, desperate struggle for
existence? Must not food be had at any cost? Ah, the great social
problem of dire poverty and purse-proud wealth, this startling
inequality of possession and position, this paucity of sustenance on the
one hand and plethora of means on the other, which presents itself in
every populous community all over the globe!

It is to sever the Gordian knot of this confusing problem that the
half-crazy, drinking socialist, the wholly reckless, unreasoning
nihilist, resorts to the sword and the fulminating bomb. Far be it from
us to sympathize with such disciples of anarchy; we only present facts
to the mind of the thoughtful reader. Every one admits the incongruity
of the situation. Many worthy persons give way to a false spirit of
philanthropy in connection with it. One thing is certain,--the means
adopted by these irresponsible agitators, socialist or nihilist, will
never remedy, but only augment the difficulty.

There are many rich people in Malta, while the churches--supposed
emblems of charity, peace, and good-will towards men--are uselessly
decorated with gold and silver candlesticks, precious stones, costly
marbles, valuable tapestry, and priceless works of art, articles as
foreign to any true principle of devotion as snow is to the vegetation
of the tropics. No one can travel in Spain, Italy, Mexico, or South
America--all Roman Catholic countries--without being brought face to
face with a similar state of affairs: costly cathedrals and churches
crowded with gorgeous display, upon which gold has been recklessly
lavished in all possible ways, often surrounded by a ragged and starving
populace steeped in ignorance. Is there any amount of sophistry which
can reconcile such incongruities?

On coming out of the magnificently adorned Cathedral of Guadalupe,
situated a league from the City of Mexico, not long since, the author
was literally dazed by the strong contrast which presented itself.
Passing by a dozen steps from within this rich and gorgeous temple, upon
which millions of dollars had been lavished, into an atmosphere of the
most abject poverty and dismal want was like changing from brightest
sunshine into the valley and shadow of death. A half-naked, starving
army of beggars--men, women, and children--stared one in the face, their
cadaverous features and attenuated forms, all too clearly defined,
appealing for them with more eloquence than words could do. What sort of
religion is that which can hoard jewels of fabulous value, together with
plate of gold and silver, in its churches, while the poor, crippled,
naked multitude starve outside of its towering and gilded walls?

The sense of outraged humanity was too strong for words. Even the sleek,
well-fed priest, who had acted the part of guide through the church,
looked abashed as we pointed to this tableau of misery, and then
reproachfully at the gorgeously appointed temple whose portal we had
just left behind.

How forcibly that Mexican scene is recalled while we write these lines.
At each of the two corners of the plaza nearest to the cathedral stood a
native woman beside a large receptacle of corn meal, from which, by
adding a little water and salt, she was making what is here called
polenta, or dough cakes, which she fried in small slices over a charcoal
fire. Of this plain, simple food,--probably the cheapest which can be
produced,--such of the poor creatures standing near as were possessed of
the means ate a small portion, for which they paid one penny, devouring
the cake with voracious appetite, while the rest looked on with hungry
and longing expression. The reader may be assured that the half-starved
crowd were supplied to the extent of their appetite for once with the
nutritious though simple food, while thin-cheeked mothers were seen
hurrying away with pieces of the polenta in their hands to feed their
hungry children at home. The profuse blessings which were showered upon
the "Americano" were cheaply purchased.

Within that pretentious church were idle treasures, the interest upon
which, if the principal were properly disposed of, would feed the hungry
people of Guadalupe for years. "Ah!" says the poet Shelley, "what a
divine religion might be found out, if charity were really the principle
of it, instead of faith!"

Does Christianity, as strikingly represented by gorgeous temples, filled
with hoarded, useless treasures, while surrounded by a hopeless, naked,
starving populace, render any real service to humanity? To the author's
mind, religion of this sort, so far from preventing one crime, affords
pretext for hundreds.

Let us now conduct the reader to more cheerful and attractive scenes,
and describe the picture as presented by the main thoroughfare of the
charming capital of the Knights.




CHAPTER X.

      Broadway of Valletta.--Panoramic Street View.--A Bogus
      Nobility.--Former Grand Palace of the Knights.--Telegraphic
      Station.--About Soldier-Priests.--Interior of the Palace.
      --Ancient Tapestry.--Old Paintings.--Antique Armory.--An
      American with a Fad.--Ancient Battle-Flags.--Armor worn by
      the Knights.--Days of the Crusaders.--Bonaparate as a Petty
      Thief.--There are no Saints on Earth!--Dueling Ground.--
      Desecrating Good Friday.


The Strada Reale of Valletta is thoroughly kaleidoscopic in its gay and
fascinating presentment of humanity, forming a strange medley of colors,
while its variety of nationalities recalls Suez and Port Said, where
representatives of the East and West are so confusingly mingled. Here
one sees English ladies and gentlemen clad in fashionable London attire;
soldiers in smart red uniforms; barefooted natives, whose lower garments
are held in place by a gaudy sash tied about the waist; brown-skinned
peddlers, with fancy wares, jostled by a dignified Hindoo, a turbaned
Turk, or a swarthy Spaniard of questionable purpose. There passes also
an occasional Greek in picturesque national costume; a white burnoused
Arab; a native woman in sombre dress, with her face nearly hidden by a
dark hood (a faldetta), which takes the place of a Castilian mantilla.
Here, also, are noisy, half-tipsy blue-jackets, with broad collars, and
straw hats, enjoying shore-leave after their ideas of pleasure. There
are many plethoric, unctuous priests and cowled monks, all mingling
indiscriminately; while persistent, whining, half-clad beggars are
present everywhere. Verily, it is a motley group one encounters upon
this principal street of the Maltese capital.

Having once promenaded the Strada Reale from the fortress of St. Elmo to
the Floriana Gate, lined from the beginning to the end with quaint
yellow buildings, green projecting balconies, prominent statues of
saints, and filled with a variety of colors generally which a painter's
palette could hardly excel, an American is not likely soon to forget the
brilliant picture of foreign life which it presents. In our own country,
nothing like it is seen off the theatrical stage.

As regards the faldetta, or dark hood, which screens the faces of the
Maltese women, though a popular legend ascribes its origin to the time
of the French invasion, our own idea is quite different. Its adoption is
most probably connected with the Oriental veil or yashmak of the Eastern
women. It came into use, doubtless, upon these islands during the
dominion of the Arabs, and has been handed down from mother to daughter
ever since. It is purely for street wear. Within the house, at the
theatre, or other public entertainments, variety in dress is not
wanting, nor the dazzling brilliancy of diamonds and other precious
stones, to set off in attractive style the rich brown complexion, dreamy
eyes, and fine features of the Maltese ladies. The effect of this
peculiar hood as worn in public is both nun-like and coquettish,--a
seeming anomaly; but it is quite correct. The average woman of this
mid-sea group speaks a universal language with her dark, expressive
eyes, though only Maltese with her lips.

Society, as the term is commonly used, is rather peculiar in Valletta,
and is divided into many cliques. There is plenty of gayety, such as is
always to be met with in a great naval and military depot. Many of the
conventionalities of English home life are dropped here, as they are
inevitably in Her Majesty's Indian possessions, or at Hong Kong. All
colonial life is apt to be a little lax, so to speak, just a trifle
fast. Ennuied by their semi-isolation and circumscribed resources, even
cultured people are liable to grow careless as regards the nice
refinements of society. There are several clubs whose object is of a
literary character. A well-organized society for the prevention of
cruelty to animals exists here, also one to promote agriculture, and
another known as the Society of Arts. Each of these engages the
attention of a certain set of people of culture, to their own advantage
and indirectly to that of the community.

It is natural that there should be a certain exclusiveness observed
between the Maltese families and those of the official English
residents. Caste, so to express it, though not under the arbitrary
conditions in which it exists in India, is not unknown here. Where is it
not to be found under various forms throughout Christendom? It exists
to a certain degree among the English themselves. The separation caused
by the dissimilarity of language, religion, and education is also wide.
There are, as already stated, a certain number of "nobles" who transmit
their distinction to their sons. These are a bigoted, useless, and
extremely ignorant class, generally possessing just enough inheritance
to keep them from beggary, yet who are too proud of their empty titles
to adopt any occupation. These individuals, together with the numerous
native priests, as illiterate as their humblest parishioners, form the
black sheep of Malta, equally useless and unornamental, illustrating the
proverb that "Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do."

The quays bordering the harbor of the capital present a busy and
picturesque scene well worthy of study. Next to the Strada Reale, they
afford the strongest local color. They are dotted with fruit stands,
refreshment booths, out-of-door cafes, piles of ship-chandlery, jack
tars in white canvas clothes and beribboned hats, and native boatmen in
scarlet caps and sashes of the same texture. One feels inclined to laugh
at the queer little go-carts intended to carry three or four persons,
and drawn by a dwarfed donkey. These vehicles are not unlike an
Irish-jaunting-car, the passengers sitting sideways in the same fashion.

The former Grand Palace of the Knights of St. John is quite a plain
structure externally, much less pretentious than the edifices devoted
to the several divisions of the order. The Auberge de Castile, for
instance, is a far more striking and ornamental palace, built at the
headquarters of the Spanish language. The Grand Palace has an unbroken
frontage of three hundred feet on St. George's Square,--Piazza St.
Giorgio,--forming an immense quadrangle bounded on each side by large
thoroughfares. Two centuries ago this was called the Piazza dei
Cavalieri, or the "Square of the Knights," and was held as almost sacred
ground. No Maltese could resort to it without a permit in the early days
of the new city. The French called it the Square of Liberty. On the
opposite side of this esplanade is the main guard house of the garrison,
also an establishment known as the Casino, a popular resort of the
merchants and the public generally. Over the entrance of the building
devoted to the guard is the following inscription in Latin: "The love of
the Maltese and the voice of Europe confirm these islands to great and
invincible Britain." In the Strada Vescovo, on the left of the square,
is the house occupied by Byron while he resided here, a fact which your
guide will be sure to mention, as though it were of some real
importance. The old palace has two principal entrances in the front,
each of which leads into an inner area or open court. There are two
other entrances, one from the Strada Vescovo, and one at the back facing
the public market. Centuries ago these spaces within the palace were
improved, one for the storage of the sedan chairs belonging to the
leaders of the several divisions of the Knights, and the other as a
stable for the horses of the Grand Master. During the Carnival these
dignitaries made a gallant show, drawn in the state carriage, to which
six gayly decorated mules were attached, and preceded by a trumpeter.
To-day these deliciously cool areas which lie within the palace are
planted with orange-trees, tall scarlet verbenas, pink oleanders,
hibiscus, rosebushes, and honeysuckles. A large and thrifty creeping
vine, whose name we cannot recall, covered one whole side of a wing of
the building, from foundation to roof, with a wilderness of green,
together with a wealth of scarlet bloom, imparting an agreeable sense of
beauty and fragrance. The liquid notes of a musical fountain also
delighted the ear. In the right-hand court is a large Norfolk Island
pine, planted by the Duke of Edinburgh, and this is called Prince
Alfred's Court. The left-hand area is named for the Prince of Wales, and
contains a statue of Neptune by Giovanni of Bologna.

This famous old palace is now occupied as the town residence of the
English governor and commander-in-chief of the forces.

The upper portion is surmounted by a tall square tower, originally
designed as an observatory, the obvious incongruity of which seems to
indicate that it was probably an afterthought on the part of the
architect. It is now used as a marine telegraph station, whence all
arrivals are signaled as soon as the ships' flags and numbers can be
made out. The view from this _torretta_, as it is called, drew forth the
admiration of Lamartine, who visited it. "From the tower of the old
palace," he writes, "Valletta is seen in all its original beauty,
appearing as if cut out of a single piece of living rock."

The area in front of the palace--no longer exclusive ground--is now a
favorite public resort, and contains two fountains brimming with sweet
refreshment. Here one of the regimental bands gives out-of-door concerts
twice a week. This is also made the headquarters of the annual carnival
displays and frequent military reviews. The Spaniards would call it the
plaza of the city.

It is true that the exterior of this historic pile is somewhat
disappointing and commonplace in its architectural effect, but the
interior more than compensates for this first impression. One enters the
lofty corridors stimulated by a throng of active memories touching the
romantic story of the chivalric order of the Knights. The impress of
that seemingly incongruous combination, the soldier and the priest, is
everywhere to be seen. We promptly recall their humble beginning
centuries ago at Jerusalem, where, actuated by pious zeal, they
fulfilled the duty of good Samaritans; how they grew in numbers and in
importance until they finally became a warlike body of soldier-monks,
knight-errants of the cross. We remember that for hundreds of years they
fought incessantly against the active power of the Porte, and, almost
single-handed, kept the Ottomans and the piratical Algerines at bay, an
enemy who, uniting, strove to extend the creed of Mohammed westward by
power of the sword, and to banish Christianity from the face of the
earth; how, successively driven from Jerusalem, Cyprus, Acre, and
Rhodes, they finally established a home for the order in this Maltese
group, in defense of which they fought heroically, spilling their blood
like water upon the ramparts of St. Elmo, and finally erecting this
noble city, where they have left such lasting monuments of their
bravery, enterprise, success, and decline.

Such thoughts are almost automatically suggested by the brain as one
enters the portals of the interesting old palace, once the court of the
now virtually extinct fraternity. Though occupied by the English
officials and kept scrupulously in order, it has an unmistakable and
most melancholy air of desertion in its stately hangings, its echoing
halls, and quaint vestibules. It must all have been very grand when the
renowned brotherhood were at the zenith of their fame and power, when
the head of the order presided here and ruled the proud organization in
regal state.

The interior of the palace is divided into broad passageways inlaid with
 marble, picture galleries, banqueting hall, hall of justice,
hall of council, grand armory, and many other spacious apartments. Among
the most meritorious paintings are a series of striking views
representing the various sanguinary battles in which the Knights had
from time to time been engaged. This series is the work of Matteo da
Lecce. Other examples of superior workmanship are by Caravaggio,
Cavalier Favray, Giuseppe d' Arpino, and so on. There are no modern
paintings in the palace, all are mellowed by age. Indeed, there is
nothing new here in art or furniture; such would be quite out of place;
everything seems to have about it the tone of lapsed centuries, while
exhibiting a lavishness of original expenditure which the most limitless
means alone could warrant.

In one of the broad corridors near the armory hall, the gilded state
carriage formerly used by the Grand Masters may be seen. Its gaudy
construction shows the style kept up by the Knights in those days. The
tawdry, lumbering, gold-decked state carriage one sees at the State
Department of the City of Mexico, left by the ill-advised Maximilian, is
no more extravagant in character. The idea of supporting an official
carriage at all upon this circumscribed island is an obvious folly and
straining after effect. The most extensive journey such a vehicle could
make would be the length of the Strada Reale, or possibly from the
palace square through the Porta Reale into the suburb of Floriana, about
two miles. This useless carriage somehow recalled the ponderous gilded
car of Juggernaut, seen at Tanjore, India, the structure in which the
idol takes its yearly airing drawn by thousands of poor, deluded, and
fanatical Hindoos.

This edifice in the Square of St. George, it will be remembered, was the
official palace of the order, the headquarters of the Grand Master.
Each "language" or division of the Knights had also its separate palace.
Valletta, like Calcutta or Venice, was a city of palaces. In these
latter days the members of the fraternity lived in great splendor; their
tables were heavy with the richest viands to be obtained, while they
were served in regal style by numerous slaves, male and female.

The council chamber of the Grand Palace is hung with ancient Brussels
fabrics of great original cost and beauty. These pieces of tapestry,
twenty-two in all, are each fifteen feet square. The figures are of
life-size, representing typical scenes in India, Africa, Europe, and
America, and depicting with considerable accuracy the fauna and flora of
each section of the globe. In the representations of America, there are
a few manifest incongruities and inaccuracies, but one should not be
hypercritical under such circumstances. Little, comparatively speaking,
was known three hundred years ago of this great western continent. These
tapestries are in a state of remarkable preservation, both as regards
color and texture. They are said to have hung in their present position
for over two centuries and a half, exposed to a strong light, and more
or less to atmospheric influences. These are rare specimens of the
admirable work as well as of the durable colors produced by those early
artists in textile fabrics. Connoisseurs whose interest is in this
special line visit Malta solely to see them as they hang in the old
palace.

The author chanced to meet a wealthy American gentleman in the city of
Florence, lately, with whom this mania for ancient tapestry had become
chronic, and was pursued to some purpose. The individual referred to was
Mr. Charles M. Ffoulke, now of Washington, D. C. He had invested over
fifty thousand dollars in the purchase of very old and neglected fabrics
of this sort, found in various parts of Italy, notably at Rome. These
were mostly from the looms of Gobelin and Brussels. Mr. Ffoulke had
secured the services of a score of patient nuns in the convents of
Florence, who were engaged in the careful restoration of the frayed and
torn, but valuable fabrics. When every piece should be brought as nearly
as possible to its original condition, the whole was to be shipped to
America. One portion of this collection, valued at twenty thousand
dollars, is already in this country, and was presented by its generous
owner for the adornment of the sacristy of a prominent church in New
York city.

The spacious dining-hall of the government palace of Malta contains
among many other portraits one of Grand Master Vijncourt, by the famous
artist Caravaggio. A master ruler of the order, as we have shown, always
lived in regal style. When he went to church he was attended by a
hundred Knights in full uniform, and half a dozen pages to hold up the
bottom of his robes of state. When he dined in public, the Knights who
formed the rank and file of the order ranged themselves about the hall
standing, and no one moved until he gave the signal for doing so. He
was addressed only in the most deferential manner, and the Knight doing
so must uncover his head and bow submissively. No royal court observed
more strictly the etiquette of profound respect, as evinced towards the
reigning sovereign of the realm.

There is also in the old palace a gorgeous throne-room and ball-room
combined, sometimes used for the latter purpose to-day. The several
private apartments are all richly frescoed by the best exponents of the
art who could be obtained in Italy, when frescoing was held to be one of
the highest branches of pictorial illustration. Many of the scenes are
very elaborate and quite unfaded, representing events in the early
history of the Order of St. John, including tableaux of the famous
defense of Rhodes, together with many sea-fights between the galleys of
the order and the piratical crafts of the Barbary coast. The Knights
prided themselves upon being as good sailors as soldiers. It was in
their galleons that they captured their richest spoils from wealthy
Ottomans, who often carried with them to sea not only much personal
property and convertible wealth, but also a portion of their slaves and
the favorites of their harems. It was thus that each capture of the
Knights represented a considerable amount of real wealth.

In visiting the Grand Palace of Malta, the apartment which is sure most
to interest and occupy the stranger is that of the elaborate armory of
the ancient order, a spacious hall, two hundred and fifty feet long by
forty wide, wherein are exhibited the steel harness, mailed gloves,
crossbows, javelins, halberds, pikes, arquebuses, and battle-axes which
were used by these soldier-monks in actual service. Like Falstaff's
sword, the edges of these weapons present tokens of having given and
received many shattering blows, but one feels no doubt that the evidence
here displayed is genuine. History in this connection is quite vivid
enough without seeking to heighten its color by any subterfuge. In the
days when these weapons were used, conflicts were mostly at close
quarters, hand-to-hand. Cavalry and long range cannon were of little
account; indeed, the latter did not exist, and in siege operations the
former were almost entirely useless.

In this interesting and curious armory are many torn flags, Turkish
robes of military rank, and other trophies of war captured from the
infidels in various conflicts.

A critical eye will observe that most of the armor must have been
designed for men of smaller physical development than the average
soldier of our period. There is one mail suit in the hall, to wear
which, a man must have been at least seven feet in height, and of
corresponding physical development, the helmet alone weighing
thirty-five pounds, which would soon exhaust the strength of an ordinary
man. There are said to be over three hundred suits of armor preserved
and mounted in the collection, though we should not have thought there
were nearly so many. The average weight of these must be considerably
over forty pounds each. Many are constructed of the finest quality of
steel, elaborately engraved, and inlaid with gold and silver. The
author's attention was called to one suit, which was so heavily
ornamented with the precious metal that the original cost must have been
at least a thousand pounds sterling, including the artistic and
mechanical labor involved in its production. This armor, it should be
understood, was only designed to protect the front and side of the
wearer's person. Here and there are seen a breast-plate with indentures
evidently made by an enemy's bullet or spear-thrust, which would
doubtless have proved fatal to the wearer but for this metallic
protection. The armory is also hung with an interesting series of grim
old portraits of the Grand Masters of the Order of St. John, dating back
to the earliest days of the organization. As here represented, they must
have been men of decided character, the traits of decision and firmness
being those most prominently delineated by the artists. One or two were
evidently persons of fine and commanding personality, notably L'Isle
Adam and La Vallette. There is, somehow, a sternness and spirit of
aggression pervading all these counterfeit presentments.

Some of the firearms in the Knights' armory are very curious weapons,
closely resembling the principle of our modern revolvers and
breech-loading guns, although it must be remembered that these specimens
are three or four hundred years old. When one pauses to consider the
matter, this seems to make the late Colonel Colt more of a discoverer
than an inventor. A most curious cannon preserved among the rest of the
arms, small in calibre and of Turkish workmanship, is particularly
interesting. It has a barrel which would take a ball of about an inch
and a half in diameter, and is made from closely-woven tarred rope, with
a thin metallic lining, the whole so strong and compact that it would
sustain a discharge of gunpowder sufficient to propel a shot with fatal
effect a hundred yards at least. This singular weapon seems to have been
used for belligerent purposes, and it purports to have been taken from
the Mussulmans during the famous siege of Malta, in 1565, when an enemy
forty thousand strong, with a hundred and fifty galleys, invested the
island and besieged it for three months, being finally defeated with a
loss of three quarters of their army. Thirty thousand men are said to
have lost their lives on the part of the Turks, by the sword and camp
fevers, not to enumerate those disabled by wounds.

As regards this strong and compact rope cannon just spoken of, so far as
we know it is unique, and would seem to belong to an earlier period than
is claimed for it. Probably it was brought by the Knights from Rhodes.
Few people are aware how strongly tarred rope can be bound together by
seamen and others accustomed to manipulate it. When thoroughly worked
into shape, it becomes almost as solid as iron.

The rusty old lances, broken spears, and dimmed sword-blades hanging
beside tattered battle-flags bearing bloody marks of the fierce contests
in which they took part, are silent but suggestive tokens of the
Crusades, recalling the names of Saladin and Coeur de Lion, when
Christians and Mohammedans were arrayed in bitter sectarian warfare
against each other upon the plains of Palestine,--romantic and historic
days rendered thrice familiar to us by the captivating pen of Scott.
Here we pause for a moment before the trumpet which sounded the retreat
from Rhodes. These instruments close beside it are the batons of office
which were used on state occasions by Aliofio Wignacourt and La
Vallette. Those curious in such matters find the place full of interest
while carefully examining these warlike appurtenances, which as a whole
form a collection unequaled in its line by any armory in Europe. There
are many interesting relics of the famous Order of the Knights in this
apartment, besides those of the battlefield. The hall is a veritable
museum, containing many illuminated books, manuscripts, sacred emblems,
ancient Phoenician, Arabic, and Maltese coins, with curious church
paraphernalia which were in constant use centuries ago, each article
forming a page, as it were, in the history of those Knights of the
church. Among the treasures preserved in the armory was the costly and
artistic sword given to the Grand Master, La Vallette, by Philip II. of
Spain. The golden hilt was set with large diamonds of purest water, and
the workmanship was of exquisite finish. This sword Bonaparte stole and
appropriated to his private use, wearing it ostentatiously when he
departed from Malta on his way to Egypt,--a mean and petty sort of
thieving which this man constantly practiced.

Among other valued curiosities, one sees in a glass case the deed of
perpetual sovereignty granted to the Order of St. John by Charles V.,
dated March, 1530. Nothing upon earth endures for long. The formal deed
of gift is here, but the title is extinct, and so is the order of the
Chevaliers of St. John.

The English government have stored in the palace a large collection of
firearms, including some twenty thousand muskets, which were
manufactured in the Tower of London. Such have been the improvements
made in this weapon, however, that these guns would hardly be considered
suitable arms with which to furnish a body of infantry in time of war.
The old smooth-bore, muzzle-loading firearm is now entirely obsolete.
Even the African tribes, who have so lately fought the French in
Dahomey, were supplied with, and used effectively, breech-loading
rifles.

It appears, as we have felt it our duty to make plain, that these
church-robed warriors were very human in their instincts, and by no
means exempt from the average sins that flesh is heir to. Some outspoken
historical writers have recorded acts of debauchery perpetrated by them
which we should certainly hesitate to reprint. All this, too,
notwithstanding their pretended sanctity and discipleship, together with
the stringency of their priestly vows. We may be sure that there are no
saints on this mundane sphere, and that those who pretend to the
greatest degree of sanctity are mostly those who possess the least.
Experience never fails to furnish proof of this. Our most cherished
idols have feet of clay. Nothing known to civilization is more debasing
to morality, truthfulness, honor, and chivalrous manhood than the
holding of slaves. The Knights of St. John were open and undisguised
slave traders,--slave traders in the fullest sense of the term, reaping
therefrom not alone constant additions to their material wealth, but
also all the miserable consequences contingent upon so vile a
connection. This was perhaps the greatest promoter of the sensuality,
gluttony, and gambling propensities which prevailed to such a
demoralizing and shameful extent among the members of the brotherhood.

These famous champions of the church had also their schisms, their petty
jealousies and quarrels, like all the rest of the world. There were in
the code of laws, to which they solemnly subscribed, stringent rules
against premeditated dueling, but these were easily and frequently
evaded. Fatal infractions often occurred, the outcome of quarrels
started over the gaming-table or the wine-cup. Punishment was somehow
escaped. The law was plain enough, but the misdeed seems always to have
been condoned. Men who live by the sword are very liable to die by it.
Deaths arising from personal conflicts were by no means rare among this
priestly fraternity. If a Knight was challenged by one of his
brotherhood for what was deemed to be good and sufficient cause, and did
not promptly respond, no matter why, he was denounced among the
fraternity as a coward, and was punished by social ostracism. The
inconsistency of such a state of affairs, existing in a pretended
religious community, will at once suggest itself to the reader. The
profession of Christianity did very little to separate the armed priest
from the brute. This fact was not only illustrated in this dueling
propensity, but in the recklessness of their daily habits. Human life
was held at the lowest possible estimate, and its sacrifice for trivial
causes was taken little if any notice of by those in authority. Men who
make a profession of arms are very liable to resort to weapons of
warfare, rather than to reason, in the settlement of any question which
may arise among them.

There is a narrow street which runs the whole length of the city,
parallel with the Strada Reale, which was celebrated as the dueling
ground of the Knights. The reason for this selection was because a
combat in this circumscribed passageway might be looked upon in the
light of a casual encounter, or an accidental collision. This was a very
weak deduction, but it appears to have sufficed for the purpose. The
fact was, that a challenge which had passed between two Knights, no
matter what the circumstances were, could not be ignored by them, or a
personal encounter avoided, any more than such an occurrence could be
disregarded among the swashbucklers of Dumas's musketeers. The instinct
of the sword, so to speak, was stronger with these professed
religionists than was any other recognized principle. The combatants
were bound, however, by some recognized palliating rules: for instance,
to put up their swords upon the interference of a brother Knight, an
officiating priest, or a woman, which may be interpreted as an attempt
to draw a line of prevention about this barbaric custom of settling
private disputes with the sword.

When a fatal conflict occurred on the Strada Stretta, a cross painted or
cut upon the house front nearest to the spot ever after indicated the
event. There used to be a long line of these significant signs upon this
thoroughfare, but nearly all are obliterated, some by design and others
by the wear of time. The records of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries teem with entries of stabbing, wounding, and killing among the
Knights, the result of encounters upon the Strada Stretta. When there
was a common enemy to encounter, and upon whom to expend their surplus
energy, the Knights were as one man, living together in comparative
harmony, but in days of peace they were only too ready to turn their
weapons against each other in heated quarrels.

Washington Irving relates a veritable ghost story concerning a fatal
encounter which took place in this notorious Strada Stretta, as related
to him by an old Knight who once lived upon the island of Malta, and
whom he met somewhere in Italy. The basis of the story was the fact
that two Knights of the Order of St. John, one of Spain and one of
France, met and fought a duel here on a certain Good Friday, the latter
losing his life in the conflict. There was always more or less active
rivalry existing between the French and Spanish divisions of the
brotherhood. In the instance referred to there was a woman in the case,
for the Knights were as famous for their gallantry towards the ladies as
for prowess in battle. In times of peace they occupied their leisure,
not with any intellectual resort,--alas! that the truth must be told,
few of them, comparatively speaking, could read and write,--but nearly
all seem to have been experts at domestic intrigue and gambling, at
wine-bibbing and dueling. Their only study was the effective handling of
warlike weapons. The fencing-master, not the schoolmaster, was
constantly "abroad."

The story, which Irving tells at considerable length, represents the
victor in the duel referred to as having suffered infinite remorse for
his murderous act, and that he was pursued night and day by a terrible
phantom visible only to himself. In vain was the severest self-imposed
penance, in vain the confessional, in vain his prayerful regrets. He
seemed doomed as a just punishment to endure a purgatory upon earth. The
great onus of the whole affair, however, as made to appear in the
narrative, was not the sacrifice of a human life under such
circumstances, but that the act should have been committed on Good
Friday!




CHAPTER XI.

      The Famous Church of St. John.--By What Means it was
      Decorated.--Grand Mosaic Floor.--Roman Catholic Ceremonials.
      --Remarkable Relics.--Chapels of the Languages.--A Devout
      Artist.--Church Treasures.--Thieving French Soldiers.--
      Poetical Justice.--The Hateful Inquisition.--Churches of
      Valletta.--A Forlorn Hope.--Heroic Conduct.--A Maltese
      Pantheon.--A Rival Dome to St. Paul's, London.--Some Fine
      Paintings.


After the Grand Palace of the Knights, described in the last chapter,
the next place of interest to a stranger in Malta is the church of St.
John, which stands upon an open square, shaded by graceful trees,
opposite the head of the Strada Santa Lucia. It is a little over three
centuries old, having been built by the order about the year 1576, at
great cost. The members of the fraternity vied with each other in its
elaborate adornment, and lavished untold sums of gold for this purpose.
Robbery upon the high seas, predatory invasions of unprotected coast
towns, and the sale into slavery of the captives--men, women, and
children--whom they thus got possession of, served to keep the purses of
the Knights full, and enabled them to indulge their wildest fancy to its
full extent. Perhaps the expenditure of their ill-gotten wealth in this
direction was the least harmful of all the ways in which it was
squandered. The piratical manner in which they procured the means for
the costly adornment of the church of St. John did not militate against
the acceptability of the same, on the part of the priesthood immediately
attached to the cathedral. What a satire upon the "holy" character of
this Romish temple, this church of St. John! "The church," says Goethe,
"has a good stomach; has never known a surfeit; the church alone can
digest such ill-gotten wealth." In Mexico, Sicily, and Spain the
banditti go to the priests when contemplating murderous crimes, and pay
to be shrived of their sins before committing them, promising also to
hand over to the church treasury a liberal portion of the proceeds of
their robberies!

But let us return to our description of this marvelously decorated
church of Valletta.

Below the cross which forms the apex of the front is a statue of the
Saviour, a masterpiece of art from the hand of Algardi, a famous
Bolognese sculptor. There are two heavy square towers, containing
numerous bells, whose metallic tongues are perfectly deafening on all
festal occasions, giving utterance at early morning hours, intended by
nature for sleep, and continuing all day long, the dread of unaccustomed
ears. They are not rung in the manner commonly adopted elsewhere, and
after what would seem to be the most legitimate fashion, but are beaten
with a hammer, in the stout hands of a native islander. In Japan they
ring their ponderous, low-hung bells, placed in front of the temples,
with a battering-ram of timber, driven by many hands, which, though it
sounds like veritable thunder, is no more malicious than the Maltese
sledge-hammer method.

The clock of this church has three faces, showing the current hour, the
day of the week, and the day of the month. It is a curious, though not
remarkable, piece of work, interesting, however, as being the product of
a native Maltese mechanic. This edifice was intended to be the
Westminster Abbey of the order, where the mortal remains of its members
should find a lasting and monumental sepulchre. The architect, Girolamo
Cassan, was a famous artist of his day, who laid out and designed the
city of Valletta as a whole, with its many palaces, under the immediate
direction of the Grand Master whose name it bears.

As we draw aside the heavy matting which always hangs before the
entrance to the church, it is impossible not to be impressed by the
magnificence which is everywhere displayed.

An oppressive odor of floating incense at first salutes the senses, as
is the case in all Roman Catholic churches; but a few moments serve to
accustom one to the musty, unventilated place. It does not seem to occur
to the custodians of these edifices that such a place of public
assemblage requires change of atmosphere just as much as a domestic
residence. Architecturally, the church of St. John has no pretension
whatever, either inside or out, though its proportions are very grand.
The mosaic pavement is doubtless the most perfect specimen of the kind
in existence,--a mosaic of tombs, and an example of sepulchral
magnificence. The whole effect is rich beyond description, from
pavement to roof. Yet there is, strange as it may seem, a cold
emptiness, not to say gloom, which overcomes the stranger amid all this
plethora of furnishing and fresco. The detail is too infinite to be
taken in as a whole. Only a general impression of the place is retained
by the average visitor. To the thoughtful and unprejudiced it must
surely prove to be more pagan than Christian.

Where we stand upon its tessellated floor, each square yard is sacred to
the memory of some departed Knight; the marbles bearing their names are
also emblazoned with their arms. One can readily imagine the many
festive occasions, elaborate and pompous ceremonials, military, civic,
and religious, which have taken place within these walls while the
Knights were at the acme of their power. The chairs of state were then
filled with gaudily dressed officials. Priests, in glittering robes,
bearing gold and silver mitres, filed hither and thither in long
processions, accompanied by banners, and preceded by youths in spotless
white, who swung burning and pungent incense in silver vases, while the
ponderous organ breathed forth its solemn, reverberatory notes. The
tapestried alcoves were brilliant with numberless candles, and the high
altar was ablaze with burning wax, while the figures in the sacred
paintings must have looked down from their canvases with weird and
cynical expression. No doubt these church ceremonials were solemn and
impressive, where one and all assumed a virtue, if they had it not. Is
it surprising that this cunningly devised and gaudy display, these
elaborate performances, should be awe-inspiring to an ignorant and
superstitious people? One can even conceive that the actors themselves,
in such a theatrical show, having been brought up in the Roman Catholic
faith, may believe that they, poor, finite creatures, individually
glorify the great and good God by this hollow mummery.

To-day, only a score of nun-like Maltese women, clad in black, kneel
here and there before some favorite saint. If the stranger catches a
glance of their dark eyes from behind the screening faldetta, he finds
them more redolent of earth than of heaven,--dreamy, persuading eyes,
glancing from beneath downcast lids, and shaded by long lashes. Only two
male visitors are present,--the author and his guide, while a single
priest, robed in a velvet surplice, goes through a pantomime of kneeling
and crossing himself in front of the high altar, with his back toward
the scanty audience. This man's voice is so low, if he speaks at all,
that the solemn silence of the place is quite unbroken. If he could be
heard, no worshiper of the class who come hither would understand the
Latin tongue in which he is supposed to read the service.

We can remember but two other churches of its class which equal this of
St. John in tawdry, yet costly and useless decorations, namely, those of
Burgos and Toledo, in Spain. It was the former church that was
considered so exquisite, and delicately artistic in every appointment,
that Charles V. said it ought to be placed under glass. The Toledo
cathedral rivals any Romish church we have visited, in its riches of
gold, silver, precious stones, and art treasures. It contains also more
stained glass windows than any other ever built, with the possible
exception of St. Peter's. Statues and pictures abound in the church of
St. John; gold and silver accessories, added to the original expense of
the carved lapis lazuli, render the high altar, as a whole, of great
aggregate cost. The railing in front is composed of solid silver. The
keys of Jerusalem, Acre, and Rhodes, esteemed of priceless value as
memorials, are deposited beneath the high altar,--relics of the early
possessions and the old chivalrous days of these warriors of the cross.
Just behind the altar hangs a famous painting of the Beheading of St.
John, by Caravaggio, painted in 1609. There is also an elaborate group,
in marble, representing the Baptism of Christ. It is the work of Maltese
artists of the seventeenth century, forming a remarkable monument of
native talent.

Before the altar of this Valletta church, on the right and left, richly
upholstered chairs are placed, raised above the level of the floor, and
draped with canopies of rich crimson velvet. These chairs are designed
for the bishop and the representative of the sovereign power in Malta.
They are occupied only on state occasions. Over the last mentioned is
placed the British coat of arms. In the spacious sacristy are a score or
more of fine old paintings variously ascribed to great masters. One or
two of these are very old, and were brought by the Knights from Rhodes
when they evacuated the island.

The most celebrated relic of this Maltese cathedral was the reputed
right hand of St. John the Baptist, brought originally from Antioch to
Constantinople by the Emperor Justinian, who, in the intensity of his
veneration, built a church expressly for its preservation. After the
capture of Constantinople by the Turks, the Sultan Bajazet gave it to
the Grand Master D'Aubusson at Rhodes, whence it was brought to Malta by
L'Isle Adam. The hand was incased in a glove of wrought gold covered
with precious stones, among which was a large diamond of unusual value.
This gem, Bonaparte, as usual, stole and placed upon his own hand. "You
may keep the carrion," said the French general flippantly, as he handed
the relic to the Grand Master, minus the ring. It was a curious act of
destiny that the Corsican scourge should have carved his name upon this
rocky island of Malta,--this granite page of history.

When Hompesch treacherously and in the most cowardly manner surrendered
the Maltese group to the French, he carried the hand of St. John away
with him, and afterward presented it to Paul I., Emperor of Russia, when
he was chosen Grand Master of the order, under peculiar circumstances.
This singular relic is still preserved in the Winter Palace at St.
Petersburg.

The tapestries in the church of St. John are known to have cost
originally thirty thousand dollars, and were from the famous
manufactory of De Vas Freres of Brussels, for whose looms Rubens did not
disdain to work. On the way to Malta they were captured by a Moorish
corsair, and ransomed by the payment of their full value in gold. Thus
they cost the church just sixty thousand dollars.

Among other relics which are shown to the visitor is a thorn from the
crown worn by Christ, a fragment of the infant Jesus' cradle, one of the
stones which slew St. Stephen, the foot of Lazarus, some bones of St.
Thomas of Canterbury, and so on.

On either side of the nave of the church of St. John are dome-crowned
chapels, each having its special altar elaborately ornamented with
paintings of more or less merit, together with bronze and marble
statues. These chapels were devoted to the several divisions of the
Knights,--the different languages, comprising those of France, Provence,
Auvergne, Aragon, Castile, Italy, Germany, and Anglo-Bavaria, eight in
all. In the French chapel is a sarcophagus in memory of the Duke de
Beaujolais, brother of Louis Philippe, who died of consumption at Malta.
This tomb is ornamented with a full-length recumbent statue of the
youthful prince, and is a fine work of art. From this chapel there are
marble steps leading to the crypt in which are the tombs of twelve of
the Grand Masters, including those of L'Isle Adam, first Grand Master in
Malta, and his successor, La Vallette. The sarcophagi in this place are
elaborate works of more than ordinary merit, and are said to have come
from Florence, Milan, and Rome. The sepulchre of La Vallette interested
us most, as does the life of this remarkable soldier, commander, and
prelate. The pedestal is of bronze, upon which the Grand Master is
represented as reclining in the full armor of a Knight of the order
which he had served so long and so faithfully. At the foot of this tomb
lies the body of Oliver Starkey, La Vallette's trusted secretary, who,
had he possessed the ambition, might have aspired to almost any post of
honor within the gift of the brotherhood. In the silence of this
sepulchral chamber, one naturally falls to musing upon the vanities of
life and the stern reality of the end. The tomb is the great leveler;
the emperor and his humblest subject must alike crumble to dust.

As we ascend once more to the nave of the church, the brain becomes very
busy with thoughts suggested by the surroundings, where there is such an
incongruous blending of religious with warlike associations. Everything
speaks of the brave but heedless Knights, and their common pride in and
devotion to this ostentatious temple.

Besides the chapels which were assigned to the several languages of the
order in this church of St. John, here called the cathedral, each
division had also some church in the city devoted entirely to its
service. Thus to the Knights of Provence belonged the church of Santa
Barbara, in the Strada Reale; that of Italy possessed the church of
Santa Catarina, in the Strada Mercanti; the church of Our Lady of Pilar,
in the Strada Ponente, belonged to the language of Castile and
Portugal, the other divisions being similarly supplied with separate
churches.

We have several times referred to the divisions of the Knights; this
should perhaps be made clearer by a few words. In consequence of the
admission to their ranks of kings, princes, and nobles from all parts of
Christendom and speaking various tongues, they divided themselves into
what was called "the eight languages," each, as we have shown, having
its special chapel and palace. In the Grand Master, however, who was
nearly always an accomplished linguist, rested supreme power over each
and all. No vow which the members of the fraternity took upon themselves
was deemed more binding than that of implicit obedience to the presiding
head of the order. The importance of discipline was thoroughly
recognized, and there was no possibility of appeal from a decision of
the Grand Master. By no other means could so heterogeneous an assembly
of men from different nations be controlled, especially when consisting
of individuals whose sense of moral rectitude was of the feeblest
character, and whose principal occupation was that of arms.

We were speaking more particularly of the cathedral of St. John, in
describing which many pages might be easily if not profitably filled.

The roof of the edifice, which is divided into zones, is superbly
painted in elaborate designs, representing hundreds of figures of such
proportions as to appear from the floor to be of life-size. The
subjects are mainly Scriptural themes, especially relating to the life
of St. John, painted in oil laid on the stone, which the artist prepared
by a peculiar process devised for this purpose. At the corners of each
of the arches are a score of figures representing martyrs and heroes,
illustrative of the history of the knightly order. The real genius
displayed in the designs could only be born of one inspired by a true
love of art, together with a devoutly religious spirit. The excellence
of the designs and the naturalness of the army of figures challenge both
surprise and admiration. They are so artistically done that it is
difficult not to believe them to be in bas-relief. The whole was the
patient work of one prolific artist, Mattia Preti, an accomplished and
enthusiastic Calabrian, who spent forty years of his life in the special
adornment of the church of St. John, refusing, it is said, all pecuniary
remuneration for the same. He was quite content to live frugally,
exercising strict self-denial, that he might thus exemplify his art and
his religious devotion. Preti studied the rudiments of his chosen
calling with his brother, who was director of the Academy of St. Luke,
at Rome, and brought with him to Malta not only ability and experience,
but a devout love of art for art's sake. His body lies buried before the
entrance to the vestry, the artist having died in 1739, well advanced in
years, and leaving behind him, in Malta, a vast number of examples of
his ability, which form an appropriate monument to his memory. As
evidence of his indefatigable industry, it should be mentioned that in
the cathedral of Citta Vecchia in the centre of the island, other
specimens of Mattia Preti's work in the same line of church adornment
may be seen, together with some fine individual pieces of composition.

The treasures still remaining in the church of St. John are of great
intrinsic value, notwithstanding the fact that Bonaparte's soldiers,
after the usual fashion of the French in these days, robbed it of nearly
all portable articles which were of a salable nature, during their brief
stay upon the island. Their stealings included the twelve life-size
statues of the Apostles, which were of silver. These statues are said to
have been ransomed by some rich prelate, and are now in the old
cathedral of Citta Vecchia, if common report may be credited. The
author, however, did not see them there. A golden lamp of great size and
value was also purloined by the same freebooters when they robbed St.
John's church of other effects. Many articles which it was not desirable
to carry off, these vandals wantonly destroyed. One of the Venetian
chandeliers, thus sacrificed, when lighted burned several hundred
candles at a time. The guide points out the balustrade before the altar
already spoken of as consisting of solid silver, which escaped the
observation of the soldiery. This was brought about by the ingenious act
of a thoughtful priest, who, to hide the true character of the material,
painted the precious metal black. It has in our day assumed its true
argentiferous appearance. It was this shameful thieving propensity of
the French, that of pillaging all the churches, art galleries, and
charitable institutions of those upon whom they made war, which finally
led to their expulsion, causing the Maltese at last to rise in a body
and declare a revolution. This inexcusable pilfering was begun before
Bonaparte left the group; indeed, he set the example himself, though he
was only six days on the island. Leaving a trusted general in charge, he
hastened onward with his ships and soldiers to Egypt, which was the
objective point of the expedition. The invasion and capture of the
island of Malta was, as it were, only incidental. The treasures stolen
from Malta were placed on board L'Orient, a vessel which was lost in the
sea,--it was blown up, in fact, and now lies on the bottom of the bay
where the battle of Aboukir was fought. It was destroyed by the British
fleet under Nelson in that memorable action, and forms an example of
poetic justice with which one cannot but heartily sympathize. When
Bonaparte left Malta he impressed the native regiment which formed the
guard of the Grand Master into the service of France, promising to pay a
certain sum regularly to the families whom they left upon the island; a
promise which was never fulfilled by Bonaparte, and was never intended
to be. The French were liberal in promises and agreements duly drawn up
and signed--then totally ignored.

Sometimes Providence chooses to employ peculiar agents whereby to
accomplish its purposes. Thus the French, who were birds of ill-omen
wherever they appeared in those days, were the means of bringing about
one great and much-needed reform during their sovereignty here in 1798,
for which they deserve much credit. They promptly banished from the
island that hateful and bloody agent of the Romish church, the
Inquisition, which had taken deep root in Malta, and which was reveling
in its bigotry, cruelty, and despotism, defying the authority of all
recognized and regularly constituted laws. The spacious stone edifice
formerly devoted to the use of these inquisitors, situated in the Strada
Porta Maggiore, is now occupied as barracks for an English regiment. So
it is with those priestly harems of Mexico, the late convents and
nunneries, which, having been forbidden by the national government to be
used for such purposes, are now improved for district schools,
hospitals, libraries, and sundry other useful and respectable purposes,
much to the improvement of the morals of the community.

An impressive personal experience in the church of St. John occurs to us
as we write.

The soft light from the wax candles did not banish the sombre hues
inside the ancient place, though it was midday on one occasion as we
stood examining the rich old tapestry near the high altar. It was very
still, and we were quite alone. No services were going on. Suddenly a
strong ray of sunlight penetrated some opening from above and rested
upon the illumined hangings. It brought out the dim colors and figures
as though they had been touched by the wand of an enchanter. The eye
involuntarily followed this shaft of light to its source, the rays being
made up, apparently, of buoyant and infinitesimal sands of gold. The
translucent column slowly changed its angle, until it rested for a
moment, like a halo, upon the severed head of St. John, in Caravaggio's
canvas, then suddenly disappeared. It seemed like an artificially
produced theatrical effect, cleverly managed, but the memory of the
singularly impressive experience is indelibly fixed upon the brain.

There are between thirty and forty churches in and about Valletta, none
of which merit special attention for their appointments. It would seem
as though there were more than the number named, since in wandering
about the town one is constantly coming upon a fresh one, whose
crumbling walls, however, are anything but "fresh." Two or three of
these churches were founded by Roger, when King of Sicily and Malta, and
were liberally endowed by him about the beginning of the eleventh
century. There is also a Jewish synagogue of modern construction, to
accommodate the followers of that faith, who, although not numerous, are
still represented by considerable numbers in the city. The architecture
of the churches is mostly of the Renaissance, presenting each a great
dome flanked by two heavy towers. Besides these churches, there are
several minor chapels within the fortifications. Particular interest
attaches to one of the latter, which for many years was hidden by the
debris of the fallen walls of St. Elmo. The episode which makes this
small chapel so specially worthy of mention forms one of the bright,
chivalric pages in the too often darkened career of the Knights of St.
John.

When the capture of this fort by the Turks, in the famous siege of 1565,
became at last inevitable, after months of stout defense and gallant
fighting, the few surviving Knights who so bravely held the position
against immensely superior numbers retired to this small chapel within
the fort, where they received the viaticum, solemnly embraced each
other, and then, although many of them were already grievously wounded,
went forth upon the ramparts to die. In the general defense of the
island it was all-important,--nay, imperative--that St. Elmo should hold
out as long as was possible. Every hour that it delayed the enemy was of
the greatest importance. Reinforcements from Italy were anxiously
expected, and the fleet which should bear them might heave in sight at
any moment. The walls of St. Elmo were already honeycombed by the shot
of the enemy, but the idea of surrendering to the Turks did not even
enter the minds of its brave though weary defenders. The Grand Master
demanded of them, if it became necessary, to die sword in hand, fighting
the infidels to the last gasp. This order was literally obeyed.
Communication with the other forts was entirely cut off, so that it was
impossible to reinforce those who were left within the crumbling walls,
but the gallant defenders managed to send word to headquarters by
employing an expert native, who made his way across the harbor in the
night, swimming mostly under water, so that the Grand Master was
informed of their exact situation. By the same means of communication,
the order was sent to them, "Hold the fort, or die fighting," in
obedience to which, every Knight faithfully laid down his life!

We know of no parallel case in warfare. Indeed, there are few more
heroic pages in history than those which record the gallant defense of
the Maltese fort of St. Elmo, before which, not only hundreds, but many
thousands of frenzied Turks, the flower of the Ottoman army, were
slaughtered in vain but savage assaults upon its walls. The few
chivalrous Knights who constituted the forlorn hope left to the last in
the fort sold their lives to the enemy at such fearful cost, killing so
many of them outright,--quarter being neither asked nor given,--as to
spread consternation among the whole army of besiegers, the remnant of
whom not long after withdrew from the island in despair. The frenzied
recklessness of the Turks was no match for the cool, determined purpose
of men who had consecrated themselves, as it were, to death.

The leader of the infidel forces, Mustafa Pasha, when surveying the
scene of the last terrible conflict, and realizing that more than half
of his invading army had been sacrificed before the walls of St. Elmo,
is reported as having said, while looking toward the other and greater
forts still held by the Knights, "If the child has required the
spilling of such rivers of blood and such myriads of lives to conquer
it, what sacrifice will not the parent demand before yielding?" Nothing
but Mohammedan frenzy, a wild, unthinking, religious zeal, infatuation
pure and simple, could have sustained this long, destructive, and
fruitless siege on the part of the Turks.

St. Elmo to-day is considered to be the most perfect and the most
absolutely impregnable of all the fortified points of the Maltese
capital. It requires two regiments of artillery and one of infantry to
man the extensive walls of this fort in war time. It was, comparatively
speaking, an infant in arms, in those early days. Now it is like a
full-grown giant,--a man-of-war in size and strength. Its original form
was almost exactly like a star, but ample additions have somewhat
changed its outlines.

Speaking of the several churches of Valletta and its environs, the
remarkable dome of Musta is recalled. It covers a Pantheon-like edifice,
situated in a village a league or so from the capital. The church is
visible from a lofty point in the city, and was built by the labor of
the poor peasantry of the neighborhood, patiently and resolutely
continued through a period of thirty years. Yet, speaking of these
peasants, Mr. Henry Ruggles, a late American consul to Malta, says:
"They are so poor that the most opulent has not sufficient income to
purchase a goat." The Musta church was originally designed by a devout
and conscientious priest, who inspired his helpers by his self-devotion
to the purpose which he had conceived. But he did not live to see it
finished. It is curious that the dome of this village church, on a
Mediterranean island, should be a widespread, lofty structure, larger
than that of St. Paul's, London. The span of the latter is ten feet less
than that of the former. It is a round edifice, composed of the yellow
Maltese stone, and of such majestic proportions as to be very pleasing
to the critical eye. The church is dedicated to the Madonna. The extreme
height from the ground to its apex is about two hundred feet, the walls
being very thick. The diameter of the whole is about that of its height,
which are the same proportions as the Pantheon at Rome, from which many
of the features are evidently copied. It has a couple of large bell
towers placed at either end of a Corinthian portico which forms the main
entrance, but they are rather diminutive compared with the central dome.

This, as well as all the village churches in the group, is plentifully
ornamented with images and paintings, the latter mostly of a very
ordinary character. Occasionally a fine one arrests the visitor's
attention, and such examples are generally attributed to some famous
artist; whether correctly or not, it is impossible for any one but an
expert to decide. The date of these works, the proximity of Italy, and
the liberality of the people in artistic decoration of the churches
render quite possible the originality claimed for many of the best
paintings found in Malta.

Several legends are current as to the origin of this Musta temple, but
they would hardly interest the average reader, though possessing a
certain emphasis and fascination when related to one standing beneath
the shadow of its lofty walls. When it was decided to erect the church,
for some special reason it was particularly desirable to have the new
edifice occupy the same site as the ancient structure already upon the
ground. The question arose as to how this should be brought about.
Knowing that the new temple must be years in course of construction, it
was thought best not to destroy the smaller existing church until a new
place of worship was completed. To meet this exigency, the one now
bearing the grand dome was built outside and over the old one, the
latter remaining undisturbed during the process. The dome, it is said,
was thus constructed without raising any staging around it. When the
walls and all of the new temple were finished, the old church was
demolished and the debris promptly removed. This was certainly a
remarkable architectural achievement.

There are a dozen domes within the city walls, of less size, in view
from the same point which takes in the Musta Pantheon, as it is often
called. Many of the edifices to which they belong are costly structures,
but they are not elegant or attractive. There are a few fine paintings
in these city churches. One by Guido Reni in the church of Santa Maria,
representing Santa Ursula, is highly prized, and is often visited by
connoisseurs in art. It is doubtless an original. Unless one has a
considerable amount of leisure time to dispose of, after a thorough
inspection of the grand church of St. John, there remains little in the
same line worthy of attention in Valletta. A careful study of this
structure and the cathedral of Citta Vecchia will doubtless satisfy the
average traveler.

There are said to be two hundred churches and chapels in the group, but
this is, we should think, an exaggeration. Nevertheless, it is certainly
true that a few less churches and a great many more schools would
redound to the well-being of the inhabitants.




CHAPTER XII.

      Public Library of Malta.--British Museum, London.--City
      Circulating Library.--Museum of Valletta.--Interesting
      Curiosities.--Birthplace of Hannibal.--Pawnbroker's
      Establishment.--Savings Bank of the Monte di Pieta.--The
      Baraccas.--A Superb View.--An Excursion Inland.--Ancient
      Capital of Malta.--Citta Vecchia.--Toy Railway.--About the
      Vatican at Rome.--An Ancient Cathedral.--Dungeons of the
      Middle Ages.


The public library and museum of Valletta are in the same edifice,
adjoining the Grand Palace, the entrance being under the arcades facing
the Cafe de la Reine. This was the last building erected by the
fraternity of St. John in Malta. It contains a collection of over fifty
thousand volumes besides many choice manuscripts. The library is mostly
composed of the individual collections once owned by the Knights, each
of whom agreed to bequeath, at the close of life, his private
possessions in this line. Of course there were some studious and
scholarly men as well as many charlatans in the brotherhood. It now
forms a library of much more than ordinary importance, to which valuable
books are still added from time to time. The printed works can be taken
out for home use by any resident of Malta, under reasonable
restrictions, and even strangers are permitted this privilege, if they
are properly introduced by any responsible citizen. The shelves, as
might be supposed, are particularly rich in the literature of the
Middle Ages, containing some extremely interesting volumes, the work of
zealous old monks, some few of which are illumined with rare artistic
ability. The department of engravings is quite extensive, embracing some
examples of very ancient origin, especially curious and valuable. It is
true that nothing could possibly be cruder than some of these specimens,
wherein the rules of perspective, after the Chinese fashion, are
entirely ignored. Indeed, some of the objects attempted would seem to
require labeling to fix their character and purpose.

This library was founded by Bailli de Tencin, who started the
institution with ten thousand volumes, his entire personal collection of
books, freely contributed for this purpose. It is true that
comparatively few persons avail themselves of the advantages here
offered, but an occasional priest, an elderly citizen, or a foreign
student is seen turning over the leaves of the ancient tomes.
Specialists sometimes visit Malta, coming from long distances solely to
consult this collection of books and manuscripts. An individual was
pointed out to the author who seemed to be very much interested in the
library, and who was said to be here in behalf of the British Museum,
London, to effect the transfer or exchange of certain duplicate volumes
in the collection to the grand, monumental library of the great English
metropolis. Our companion was a cultured Englishman, who spoke with just
pride relative to the London library. "Do you realize," he asked, "how
many books that noble institution contains?" We confessed a lack of
exact knowledge in the matter. "Well," said he, "there are to-day upon
its shelves, properly classified and catalogued, over one million and a
half of printed books, not to enumerate its many thousands of rare
manuscripts which are held of priceless value."

The books in the Valletta collection are principally in Latin, Italian,
and French, but there is also a large assortment in other European and
in Asiatic tongues.

The English residents maintain a well-supplied and constantly growing
subscription library, known here as the Garrison Library, situated in
St. George's Square. This resort forms a sort of ladies' club, where the
gentler sex congregate daily; they come to read, write, and to learn the
news. Here they have access to all the latest magazines and newspapers,
and here they gossip to their heart's content. Like Viesseux's
Circulating Library in Florence, or that in the square of the Spanish
Stairs, at Rome, such an institution is of as much benefit to travelers
as to the local inhabitants. There are a dozen newspapers published in
Valletta, about half of which are in English and the rest in Italian.
The number of volumes in the Garrison Library is about thirty-one
thousand. It is an indispensable acquisition in such an isolated spot,
helping to reconcile one to the fate of being forced to make Malta his
home. Army officers look upon an assignment to either this group or to
Gibraltar as anything but desirable, while entertaining a strong
preference for Malta. With the facilities and gayeties furnished by the
Union Club, these gentlemen of the sword and epaulet manage after a
fashion to exist. Public dinners are given, as well as balls and
assemblies, both by the governor at the palace and by the managers of
the club, each week during the season. This Union Club of Malta is
favorably known all over the continent of Europe for its hospitality and
general excellence. The hall of entrance to the club is very
artistically ornamented, and so is its elegant and spacious ball-room.

The museum of Valletta did not escape the outrageous cupidity of the
French soldiery, who perpetrated more mischief in their senseless
destruction of antiquities than will ever be known in detail. Plunder
and spoliation were second nature to them, but they also spitefully
defaced escutcheons and armorial insignia which were the only available
keys wherewith to unlock the mysteries of the past. The Valletta museum,
notwithstanding its misfortunes, contains many curious and unique
specimens of antiquity, being almost entirely composed of such as have
been found upon the islands of this group. These consist of statuary,
vases, illumined marbles and very ancient coins, amphora of Egyptian
shape and mural urns. A considerable number of these and also some
beautiful Etruscan vases were found on the island of Gozo, and were
unearthed quite recently. One of the marble groups represents the
familiar subject of a wolf suckling the infants Romulus and Remus.
Another marble figure is a bust representing Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra.
This is in alto-relievo. Some of the metallic objects are too much
corroded by time and rust to enable one to divine their original
purpose, like the specimens seen in the museum at Naples exhumed from
buried Pompeii. There are three or four interesting medals exhibited
which are in excellent preservation, bearing Phoenician characters,
and some other articles which are inscribed in the same language. There
is one monument which evidently belongs to the period of the Goths,
besides a fine marble statue of Ceres, the product of the same period.
This was exhumed on the island of Gozo. A few medals bear Greek
inscriptions. There are some lachrymals and sepulchral lamps which came
from Roman tombs near Citta Vecchia, the ancient capital, also a couple
of terra-cotta sarcophagi from the same neighborhood. A square stone
slab of great interest bears a legend in Punic characters, designating
it as cut to mark the burial place of the famous Carthaginian general,
Hannibal. This was found in a natural Maltese cave near Ben-Ghisa.

It is claimed that Hannibal was born on this island, and there is a
respectable, intelligent family now living near the city of Valletta who
bear the name of Barchina, and who assert themselves to be his
posterity. Menander, the celebrated orator, was born at Malta. Aulus
Licinius, whom Cicero styled the Aristotle of Malta, and Diodotus, the
philosopher and intimate friend of Cicero, were also born here. The
latter died half a century or more before Christ was born, which reminds
us that the "Sons of Malta" were representative men in Rome about two
thousand years ago.

We were shown a small but highly valued and curious gold coin, which
must have been issued by the Arabs about the year 1090, though its date
could not be distinctly made out. It was in the possession of private
parties. On one side was an Arabic legend: "There is only one God, and
Mohammed is the prophet of God." On the reverse side was: "King Roger."
It will be remembered that Count Roger the Norman, son of Tancrede de
Hauteville, was declared King of Sicily and Malta about the close of the
tenth century. We were told that a hundred pounds sterling had been
offered for this coin not long since, by an agent of the British Museum,
London.

The curiosities in this collection are not very numerous, but they are
extremely interesting. It is especially remarkable that so many highly
choice examples of antiquity should have been obtained in so limited a
space as the Maltese group, nor is the field exhausted. One cannot but
be impressed by these silent witnesses of the mutations to which these
islands have been subjected.

A pawnbroker's establishment on an extensive scale occupies a long
building in the Strada Mercanti, opposite the city post-office, and is
under special government charge. It is an institution very similar in
its purpose and management to one existing in the City of Mexico, and
was established in 1507, its object being to afford prompt pecuniary aid
when needed by the native people, who are often in temporary distress.
The government regulates the rate of interest, which is placed at the
lowest figure compatible with the purpose of making the institution
self-supporting. It was in the first place a private enterprise, and
high rates of interest were charged for the use of money, but as it grew
in means and usefulness, it was taken in hand by the government, or
sovereign power for the time being. The Maltese women who have inherited
from parents or grandparents cherished articles of personal adornment,
such as jewelry and the like, prize the same far beyond the intrinsic
value, and if they are forced to pawn them for a period, they are very
sure to redeem them when they possess the means to do so. Since 1833,
solely with a philanthropic purpose, a savings bank has been added to
the pawn establishment. After half a century of experience, this branch
of the institution has proved to be of decided public benefit, promoting
frugality, industry, and self-respect among the common people of Malta.
It has been the means of changing the daily habits of many careless,
heedless individuals, who through its agency have gradually laid by a
foundation for acquiring a competency. In 1891 the deposits had reached
an aggregate of over two million five hundred thousand dollars. This is
a very large sum for such a community as constitute the humbler class
of Valletta. The number of depositors is set down at six thousand in the
last annual report. Any native may place here a sum as small as one
dollar, to which he can add from his savings similar sums at his
pleasure. When these deposits amount to one pound sterling, the money
begins to draw interest. Being under the control of government, it is
safely and honestly administered for the public good. An unsuccessful
effort was made by the author to obtain other details, as it seems to be
a subject of general interest, and a progressive move worthy of
imitation.

The French, who respected neither religious nor charitable institutions,
even robbing the hospitals, and stealing right and left wherever they
appeared under Bonaparte,--the Alaric of his age,--plundered the Monte
di Pieta of Valletta, purloining therefrom about one hundred and fifty
thousand dollars, in small securities, left on deposit as collaterals by
the poor men and women of the capital! This ruined the institution
temporarily; and it was compelled, for the first time in about three
centuries, to close its doors. Such an unfortunate experience served to
confirm many of the ignorant Maltese in the Arab passion for burying
their money in the earth for safekeeping. This is a practice which they
have not wholly outlived, even at the present time, showing the tenacity
with which a people will adhere to the customs of their ancestors. After
the much-hated French were driven out of the island, a few liberal men,
who possessed the means, capitalized the Monte di Pieta at once, and by
energetic and honest effort it steadily regained its former position,
proving itself to be indeed a public charity. It benefits all classes,
makes no distinctions, and loans as high as three thousand dollars to
one individual.

There are two Baraccas or parterres in connection with the line of
fortifications surrounding Valletta, which form favorite promenades of
the citizens. They are known as the Old and the New Baraccas, from
either of which fine and comprehensive views may be enjoyed. The latter
is preferable on account of the great extent of land and sea which it
commands, as well as for its beautiful garden. A study of the topography
of Malta from this point will enable the visitor to bring away with him,
impressed upon the tablets of his memory, a truthful map of the group.
Experience soon teaches the traveler to adopt this expedient when he
finds himself in any new locality which admits of so doing, until he
finally possesses many photographic pictures stored within his brain,
forming delightful reminiscences of which no misfortune can rob him.

One of the most charming pictures which lives in the author's mind is
that of a bird's-eye view enjoyed from a lofty standpoint in the Maltese
capital, on a beautifully clear afternoon in early spring. The larger
portion of the yellow-hued city lay far below, with its myriads of
cream-, flat-roofed houses, and its thrifty, business-like
boulevard; while its many blooming fruit trees afforded warm bits of
color here and there. The Strada Reale recalled the Via Victor Emanuel
as seen from the top of the Milan cathedral. Both harbors of Valletta,
with their numerous shipping and stately warehouses, were in view. Half
a dozen iron-clads with their grim, threatening batteries formed a
prominent feature. The broad Mediterranean stretched far away to the
horizon, dotted at intervals by the picturesque maritime rig of these
waters, its placid surface now serene and quiet, radiating the afternoon
light like liquid sapphire. A fleet of gaudily emblazoned native boats
shot hither and thither over the near surface of the bay. Large,
broad-winged sea-gulls sailed lazily through the air, dipping now and
then into the water, and rising again upon outspread pinions of
stainless purity, dazzling as new-fallen snow. One or two long,
irregular lines of dark smoke, floating among the distant clouds,
pointed out the course of the big continental steamers bound east or
west. Far away to the northward, the conical outline of grand old Mount
AEtna, king of volcanoes, was faintly limned upon the sky which hung over
the Sicilian coast.

How soft and summer-like was the still atmosphere, how suggestive the
comprehensive view! Can one who was brought up on these islands ever be
content to live in the cities of the mainland? How they must hunger for
a horizon!

As we viewed the scene, the hum of the busy town rose upon the air like
the drone of insects in a tropical forest, mingled at the moment with
the soft chimes from the church of St. John. It was a fete day in
Malta, and other bells joined in the chorus which floated upward with
mellow cadence, creating a tender glow of peacefulness. While we gazed
half-entranced upon this varied scene, the sun declined serenely toward
its ocean bed, and slowly disappeared. At the same moment a sharp,
ringing report was heard from the flag-ship of the squadron, preceded by
a small puff of white smoke, which rose in circling wreaths from the
evening gun. Then the national colors came gracefully down by the
halliards from each peak and topmast head, and the brief twilight
following was steeped in the red and yellow afterglow of the departed
day, always so beautiful where sea and sky make the horizon, fading into
each other's embrace.

How full of vitality and animated contrasts seemed the small world that
lay within the scope of vision as we gazed! But now it was the close of
day; both man and beast were ready to seek repose. Nature had set the
example. Even the sea-birds turned toward their night-haunts, where they
might fold their busy wings, as the war-ships had just furled their
pennants.

What a delightful picture it was to hang in the gallery of one's memory,
often to be recalled by a single word or sound.

Let us look inland from an advantageous point in the city of Valletta;
an undulating country presents itself to the eye, sparsely settled, with
here and there a small village, always dominated by its quaint stone
church, and divided round about, as already described, by high stone
walls designed to shelter the vegetation. A central rocky ridge is
observed running north and south, which divides the island of Malta
proper near its middle, the eastern side being the most extensive and
populous. This view does not reveal any of the small groves; these are
hidden in the few valleys where they exist, and the landscape is almost
entirely devoid of arboreal ornament.

The people are few and the churches many, the latter quite out of
proportion to the number of the population or their pecuniary means. In
no other country, unless it be Mexico, is there such a manifest
disproportion in this respect.

Two leagues away to the westward, upon a prominent elevation, the
highest point of the ridge referred to, Citta Vecchia is seen breaking
the line of the horizon. It is called the "old city" to distinguish it
from Valletta, the modern capital. At this distance it appears dim and
dusty, almost like a mass of ruins, and, indeed, in some respects it is
but little better. The stones of its best edifices are corrugated by the
finger of Time, for the old capital of Malta was founded many centuries
before the advent of Christ upon earth. One writer states that its
origin dates back to 1804 B. C., but upon what authority we know not. It
is a hill city, founded upon a rock, originally proud and pretentious in
its design. We can easily imagine its grandeur when ten times its
present population dwelt within the walls, and it was at the zenith of
its prosperity. To-day, hoary and decrepit with age, it is rich only in
the traditions of its past. Situated near the centre of the island, it
was under various sovereignties and during many ages the honored capital
of the group; but to-day, its dirty, gloomy, silent streets are
comparatively abandoned, and a general somnolence reigns in its
thoroughfares, though it is connected with Valletta by a narrow-gauge
railway, built some few years since,--the only one on the islands. This
is a mere toy railway, so to speak, after leaving which a broad,
well-kept road leads up a gentle ascent to the brown and dingy walls of
the crumbling old city.

As we enter the ancient metropolis by its principal gate, a time-worn,
battered statue of Juno is passed, a figure which dates back to the
Roman period of possession here; and just within the walls the guide
points out the remains of a temple dedicated to Apollo. Everything is
gray and picturesque; dilapidation and neglect are everywhere apparent.
There are probably four or five thousand people still residing within
the city limits, not a tithe of the number which were once to be found
here. It is said that the walls which encompass the town formerly
embraced three or four times the present area, but they were contracted
to the present dimensions during the sovereignty of the Arabs, to make
them more easy of defense when besieged by an invading enemy. Citta
Vecchia flourished in times when might alone made right, and warfare was
the normal condition of the world. Malta was specially exposed to
invasion from various quarters by those who sought its capture, or for
purposes of plunder. Greek, Turkish, and Algerine pirates swarmed from
the Dardanelles to the Straits of Gibraltar, and when satisfactory
prizes were not to be found upon the open sea, inroads were organized
upon the land. It was therefore necessary for the people of Citta
Vecchia to be always prepared to repel an active and daring enemy, and
even to withstand successfully a protracted siege.

Only the skeleton of a once great and thriving metropolis now remains.
The place has no commerce and no special industry, but is slowly fading
away into the dimness of the past.

In wandering about the doleful streets of the ancient capital to-day,
one meets a swarm of plethoric priests, sandaled monks, and hooded
friars, while escorted from point to point by sad-looking, ragged,
importuning beggars. Where the first of these elements abound, the other
is sure to do so. This is a universal experience. Nowhere are the people
more absolutely subservient to the control of the priesthood, or more
completely subject to the exacting ordinances of the Roman Catholic
Church. The priests receive rental for at least one third of the land
which is occupied or cultivated on the islands. Unfortunately, this
money is not expended in a way to benefit, even indirectly, the
inhabitants of Malta. Nearly all the income from this source flows into
that great pecuniary receptacle and avaricious maw, the pontifical
treasury at Rome. There is no other palace in the world which is so
rich in hoarded treasures as the Vatican, the thrice voluptuous Roman
home of the Pope, where he lives surrounded by a populace which leads a
life of penury and semi-starvation. Little heeds he of such trifling
matters, while he "quaffs his Rhenish down." Appreciative travelers
speak of the "cold wilderness of the Vatican." This sensation is easily
accounted for. It is because this grand palace is so much more of a
museum than a home, or human habitation. It has been called, not
inappropriately, a congress of palaces, and, with two exceptions, is the
largest in the world. The Royal Palace at St. Petersburg and that of
Versailles exceed it somewhat in proportions, but by no means in the
richness and intrinsic value of its hoarded wealth. The accumulation of
original paintings and statuary, by the great masters of art, which are
stored in the Pope's palace would alone bring over thirty million
dollars, if sold to be added to the grand national collections open to
the public in various European cities. The value of other treasures of
the Vatican one would hardly dare to estimate, but the aggregate figure
would far exceed that named in connection with the paintings and
statuary. The gold in the Pope's plethoric treasury is to be added to
this estimate. With this enormous amount of riches lying perdue, and
being constantly added to, myriads who look upon the Pope as their
spiritual father actually starve on the banks of the Tiber, at his very
gates.

But let us return to Citta Vecchia, whose site upon one of the spurs of
the Bingemma Hills was so well chosen.

Much interest is felt by visitors in the ancient cathedral of the old
city, its mouldering monasteries, its convents, its theological school,
its hospitals, and its bishop's palace. The cathedral is said to be
built upon the site of the house formerly occupied by Publius, the Roman
governor of the island at the time of St. Paul's shipwreck, and who, if
tradition may be believed, was his ardent friend and follower. It has
two tall bell towers, a hundred and thirty feet in height, from which a
grand view of the Maltese group is enjoyed, the elevation being over
seven hundred feet above sea-level. The length of the edifice is nearly
two hundred feet, and it is about half as wide as it is long. The form
is that of a Latin cross. In effecting an entrance, one passes through
an army of mendicants, poor, miserable creatures, who with blind
credulity come hither in the hope of obtaining relief from their
sufferings, the most prevalent of which is gnawing hunger!

The interior of the cathedral is very rich in gorgeous decoration. Like
the church of St. John, its roof is superbly painted. This work was done
by Vincenzo Manno, an eminent Sicilian artist, and represents scenes in
the life of St. Paul. The high altar is composed of the finest marble,
artistically wrought, and must have been very costly. The mosaic
tombstones which form the flooring, after the style of the Valletta
cathedral, are a marvel of patient workmanship, and produce a fine
effect. A picture of the Madonna is pointed out by the guide, which is
said to have been painted by St. Luke, and there are several presumed
relics of the Apostle Paul. In one of the chapels is a painting
representing the Apostle miraculously routing twenty thousand Moors, who
came to besiege the city. The site upon which the cathedral stands is so
elevated as to afford a most extensive view even from the terrace.

Beneath the ancient Court of Justice near at hand, there are some damp
and dreary dungeons where human beings used to be confined ages ago,
dungeons which rival in horror those of the Doge's Palace at Venice, or
the direful cells beneath the Castle of Chillon, excavated under the
Lake of Geneva.




CHAPTER XIII.

      Ancient Catacombs.--A Subterranean City.--Phoenician Tombs.
      --Grotto of St. Paul.--A Crumbling Old Capital.--Dreary and
      Deserted.--Bingemma Hills.--Ancient Coins and Antique
      Utensils.--Ruins of a Pagan Temple.--A Former Fane to
      Hercules.--A Garden of Delights.--Druidical Circles.--
      Beautiful Grotto.--Crude Native Dances.--Unique Musical
      Instrument.--Nasciar.--Suburb of Floriana.--A Capuchin
      Convent.--Grim Skeletons.


The stranger who comes to Citta Vecchia seems to inhale an atmosphere of
the Middle Ages which pervades everything in this quaint dwelling-place,
almost as old as the sacred city of Benares, the Hindoo Mecca, which was
famous before Rome was known, and when Athens was in its youth. Medina
was the old Arabic name by which it was known, but probably it had other
names in the far past. Phoenicians, Greeks, and Romans reared their
dwellings upon its site, and have left evidences of their departed
glory. Historic memories and suggestions hang about its crumbling
monuments, its ruined ramparts, and its narrow footways. One of the most
remarkable attractions in the vicinity is the extensive system of
catacombs, which are very similar in many particulars to those of Rome,
and which, if we may believe local tradition, were once connected with
Valletta by a spacious tunnel. This would require a remarkable piece of
engineering. To perfect such a passageway through solid rock, though it
was comparatively easy to work, would involve a cost of time, labor, and
money which would be hardly at the command of a primitive race. If such
a tunnel did exist, it would nearly equal the Hoosac Tunnel of
Massachusetts, and would be at least five miles long. The entire length
of the catacombs as they now exist is computed to be fifteen miles,
though there are no authentic statistics about them. Their size and
regularity of construction have caused them to be called the
Subterranean City. They are hewn out of the rock at a depth of from
twelve to fifteen feet below the surface, small openings upward at
suitable intervals admitting the necessary fresh air. Torches or
lanterns are quite indispensable in visiting them, and a competent guide
should always be taken. A stranger might easily become confused and lost
among the intricacies of these dim, subterranean passages. Tradition
tells of a schoolmaster who attempted to explore these catacombs without
a guide, in company with a troop of his pupils, and, according to the
story, the whole party lost their way and perished miserably.

There are several spacious halls among these underground galleries, the
roof of one being supported by a line of many fluted columns wrought out
of the solid rock, just as they stand. Here it is supposed that
religious or pagan ceremonies of some sort took place. A solid stone,
which might have served as a rude altar or place of sacrifice, was found
in the centre of the hall referred to. Portions of these catacombs have
been walled up in modern times, since a second party of visitors became
lost in them. Along the sides of the passages there are occasionally
excavations which seem to have been used for sleeping purposes, or
possibly for burial nooks, wherein the bodies were hermetically sealed
after death. There are places also which appear as if designed for
baking ovens; indeed, there are many special arrangements of so peculiar
a character that it is difficult to imagine their several uses. The
origin of the catacombs and their real design are lost in antiquity, but
they are known to have existed in the days of Roman sovereignty here,
that is, over two thousand years ago. They may have served both as tombs
and as hiding-places. The primitive Christians are believed to have fled
to them for refuge, and are thought to have used them also as tombs, and
yet if they ever contained any mural appointments they must have been
long since removed. There is nothing in these subterranean passages now
but the mouldering stones and an atmosphere of an earth-impregnated
character, suggestive of humanity turned to dust. Upon the whole, one
cannot but rejoice at leaving these damp, gloomy, mysterious passages
far behind.

It suggests itself to the visitor that the large amount of rock which
must have been removed in the formation of this Subterranean City was
used for building purposes upon the surface of the island. Probably
Citta Vecchia itself, so near at hand, is largely composed of the
natural stone thus procured. A double purpose may thus have been
served,--the obtaining of means for building substantial habitations
above ground, and the forming of sepulchral avenues for tombs,
hiding-places, or for secret rites, either pagan or Christian. There
were times when Christians were compelled to worship here in secret.

Near the entrance to the catacombs is the Grotto of St. Paul, over which
an unpretentious chapel is built, dedicated to the memory of the Apostle
to the Gentiles. He is supposed to have lived here during his three
months' sojourn upon the group, in which time he not only converted
Publius to Christianity, but also sowed the seed which bore fruit to the
same effect among nine tenths of the population. According to all
accounts, Christianity, as we construe the word, thus made its advent in
Malta with the shipwreck which took place in St. Paul's Bay, so many
centuries ago. In the middle of the grotto just spoken of is a crudely
executed statue of the Apostle. The visitor is assured that the stone of
this cavernous apartment is remarkable for its efficacy in the cure of
fevers and of poisonous bites. Credulous people secure pieces thereof,
and keep them on hand for use in an emergency. A story is told of the
miraculous nature of the grotto stone, to wit: it seems that, although
it is constantly cut away to supply the demand for it as a remedial
agent, yet it never becomes less, but is always replaced by unknown
means. The many legends relating to St. Paul and his stay upon the group
are most religiously cherished and believed in at Malta, and it would
be considered little less than an insult, by a native, to question their
verity. If there is any truth in profane or sacred history, we are quite
ready to believe that St. Paul was wrecked on the island of Malta, and
that the outline of the story as handed down to us is veracious; and
yet, who is it that says, "History is only a fable agreed upon"?

Some few descendants of the old Maltese nobility, as empty in purse as
are their titles in any real value, keep up a degree of appearances in
their moss-grown and decaying "palaces," so called by courtesy, while
other edifices, once grand and pretentious, are either quite untenanted,
or are occupied for commercial purposes. The town forcibly reminds one
of Toledo, on the banks of the Tagus in Spain, which is equally dead and
deserted, and probably of as ancient origin. Its grand edifices are now
diverted to storage purposes, and its palaces closed. Here, in the day
of Spanish glory, royal pageants alternated with ecclesiastic parades,
and grand military displays often varied the scene. Coveted by various
conquerors, she too had been besieged more than twenty times. Like Citta
Vecchia, her glory was at its acme in mediaeval days.

In an endeavor to keep up the importance of the old Maltese capital
under the rule of the Order of St. John, it was required that each new
Grand Master of the Knights should come hither to be inaugurated, and
here, the precedent having been established, each new bishop of the
island is still consecrated. There are several other official acts which
are not considered binding unless they are first promulgated at Citta
Vecchia. So in Russia there are certain state ceremonials, such as the
crowning of a new Czar, or the marriage of a royal pair, which must be
performed at Moscow, the ancient metropolis of the empire,
notwithstanding the fact that St. Petersburg is so much more populous,
and is the capital as well as the royal residence. But in this instance
the old Muscovite capital is in perfect condition, so to speak,
picturesque and beautiful, and never more populous and prosperous than
it is to-day. Citta Vecchia, one can easily see, must once have been a
proud and stately city, surrounded by high walls and stout bastions, but
its glory has long since departed. Ptolemy eulogized it in his day under
the title it then bore,--Melita. The once formidable walls are now in a
crumbling, neglected condition. Indeed, the charm of the old place
consists in its memories alone. It was growing less populous yearly when
Valletta was begun, more than three hundred years ago; the completion of
the new city acted as a finishing stroke to its social and commercial
interests. So rapidly was the ancient capital deserted by its
inhabitants, who sought homes in the new metropolis, that, as we have
intimated, ingenious laws were devised to make it more attractive to its
residents.

During the dominion of the Knights, Citta Vecchia was governed by a
ruler chosen from the native Maltese citizens by the Grand Master, a
custom which was cunningly designed to satisfy the native population by
holding forth the idea that it was an independent, self-governing
district. When the Knights first came to Malta, they were specially
considerate of the native people, conciliating the populace in every
possible way, but after they had thoroughly established themselves upon
the island and become firmly seated, they ruled the natives with a rod
of iron. In later years they had become so arbitrary and exacting that
the Maltese were quite ready, when the time came, to bid them farewell,
and to welcome their new masters, the English.

The Grand Master, Matino Garzes, made Citta Vecchia a place of refuge,
as it were. It was decreed that all persons who lived permanently within
its walls should be free from arrest for debt during a certain period.
If any of its citizens committed an offense outside of its walls, giving
cause for civil complaint, the case must be tried only in the local
tribunals of Citta Vecchia. These and many other special enactments,
though designed to particularly favor the residents of the old capital,
failed to have the desired effect. The people gradually removed to the
more attractive seaport, fascinated by its scenes of busy life, its
freshness and cleanliness, together with its charming site, all were in
such broad contrast to the drowsy, cheerless inland resort which crowns
the Bingemma Hills.

There is plenty of evidence hereabout to show that this was of old the
great centre of life upon the island of Malta, and that more than one
race was here in large and thriving numbers, each of whom ruled for a
period of longer or shorter duration, and then passed away. Conjecture
alone can fill up the gap between the known and the unknown, traceable
by crumbling monuments and suggestive ruins.

Not far from Citta Vecchia, clearly attesting to the great antiquity of
this mid-island neighborhood as a populous centre, the hills--Bingemma
Mountains, the Maltese call them--are thickly occupied by Phoenician
tombs excavated in the solid rock, "pathetic monuments of banished men."
Out of these tombs curious articles have often been taken, and such are
still occasionally found in them. It is plain that the primitive people
who formed these rock-tombs possessed good tools and an aptitude for
using them; also that they had a cultured taste in architecture,
adhering to a certain purity of order in their designs wherever
exhibited, whether in tomb or temple. The resemblance of these caves at
Bingemma to the sepulchral grottoes which still exist in the environs of
Tyre and Sidon is remarkable. The latter, it will be remembered, was the
early seat of the Phoenician kingdom, in which fact we have evidence
of a common parentage between the two people who built them.

Strangers are offered apocryphal coins by itinerant peddlers, which
purport to have been current in Malta when ancient tribes were masters
of the group; but common sense teaches us that original and genuine
articles in this line must have been exhausted centuries ago. There are
also urns and domestic pottery on sale at Citta Vecchia, supposed to
have been in use among the Phoenicians. The survival of such articles
for the period of two or three thousand years is too great a tax upon
one's credulity to be patiently entertained. While in Egypt, the author
saw an insignificant article purchased of a peddler by an English lady,
which was said to have been exhumed at ancient Thebes, and for which she
paid five pounds sterling. An expert in such matters afterward showed
the lady certain unmistakable marks upon the object she had purchased,
which proved to her that it had been manufactured at Birmingham,
England, for this purpose. There are other articles offered for sale at
Citta Vecchia, which are after the Greek style, and still more which are
Roman in design. Some of the latter appear to be genuine, but who can
tell? The imitation serves every purpose, one must freely admit,
provided only the imitation be correct.

Many ruins of temples, tombs, and prehistoric monuments exist between
the site of the old city and the coast, especially toward the south,
most of which are attributed to the Romans; but there are also others
which the Romans must have found here when they came. Antiquarians
believe they can identify the period to which most of these
"black-letter records of the ages" individually belong. Without doubt
sufficiently complete portions of some of them are still extant to
serve for this purpose, though the rust of twice ten centuries has
crumbled and disintegrated some of the largest stones.

So late as 1839, a very spacious edifice was exhumed south of the
ancient capital, which, so far as regards its almost complete
preservation in all essentials, together with many antiquities which it
contained, proved to be even more interesting than the greater Giant's
Tower, on the island of Gozo. It closely resembled that structure, and
is believed beyond doubt to be the work of the same race, though it is
not of such mammoth proportions. Implements of husbandry, domestic
utensils, and large jars formed of baked clay, supposed to be designed
for oil and wine, were found in this singular structure. To us it seemed
to be clearly of Phoenician origin. It is thought by many that this
people had their capital in the group near this spot, possibly
antedating Citta Vecchia, but this is all conjecture. In the
neighborhood of these ruins, considerably nearer to the sea, are more
remains of a similar character, which have not yet been so fully
uncovered, and there are many other indications showing that this
vicinity must once have been a populous district. The shore for some
seven miles in either direction is so precipitous as to form an
inaccessible barrier on this side of the island. Vestiges of a fane to
Hercules are also found near the coast. Quintius speaks of this temple,
and describes it as embracing a circle of no less than three miles!
Cicero speaks of a temple of Juno, at Malta, as being remarkable for its
splendor in his day, but one naturally hesitates at entertaining the
theory of a temple existing here whose base covered a circle of three
miles.

Less than a league from Citta Vecchia, in nearly the same direction, the
visitor will find a delightful valley, forming a garden-like expanse,
called El Boschetto, or "little forest," where inviting shade trees,
fruits, flowers, and fountains abound. This is sure to prove an
agreeable surprise to the stranger. A superficial view of Malta gives no
promise of any such gem as this oasis in the rocky expanse of the
island. Had Homer chosen El Boschetto for the abode of his Siren, it
would not have been necessary to draw upon his poetical fancy to make
its attractiveness apparent. Like San Antonio, it is a small rural
paradise, watered by artificial canals, and having an abundant spring
and fountain combined. Picnic parties are made up in Valletta to visit
this charming spot, and others sometimes come from the old city on the
hill, just as the populace used to do, no doubt, hundreds of years ago.
On the festal days of St. Peter and St. Paul, this valley is thronged.
The place is overlooked by a large square tower, which was formerly one
of the summer resorts of the governors of Malta, but which is now in a
crumbling condition. It crowns Monte Verdala, named for the Grand Master
who built the tower, and was once a palatial residence occupied by Hugo
de Verdalle, who gathered about him various skilled artisans from Italy
to ornament, fresco, and beautify the place. Some of the evidences of
his regal manner of living here are still extant within the spacious
walls. The site was shrewdly chosen, and from its windows the view is
both rural and lovely. Verdalle is represented to have been a man of the
most selfish and sensual nature, who thought of little else except his
own personal enjoyment. He died in 1595, tormented if not absolutely
killed by gout, induced by riotous living and constant self-indulgence.
He was truly a typical Knight of St. John, but as Grand Master, how
unlike La Vallette!

A little south of El Boschetto is the palace, so-called, which was once
occupied as the summer resort of the iniquitous and jesuitical crew who
represented the Inquisition for a considerable period in Malta, but who
were finally expelled in disgrace from the island. It was here that a
vile and characteristic conspiracy was hatched by several members of the
institution in connection with some Spanish Knights, to murder the Grand
Master, La Cassiera, in 1657, but this purpose of cold-blooded
assassination was discovered and frustrated. It was no new thing for the
officers of the Inquisition to resort to secret murder to further their
vile purposes. Like the Council of Ten in old Venetian days, the
assassin's dagger was made one of their ordinary instruments by which to
rid themselves of enemies whom they feared to attack openly. This
building, with its vile associations, is now the property of the
British government. The immediate vicinity is a very fertile and
fruitful region, and contains a famous spring called Ain-el-Kibra.
Irrigation is systematically applied all over this district. Two miles
or less from the inquisitor's palace is a place known as Fanara. It
overlooks the sea, and is much resorted to by picnic parties. Here is
the head of the new aqueduct, called new in distinction from the old one
already described.

Some of the most remarkable ruins in Malta are to be seen within a mile
of this spot, consisting of masses of Phoenician masonry, called by
the natives Gebel Quim, that is, "stones of worship," reminding one of
the ancient Druidical circles, forming a strange jumble of rude altars,
colossal stones, and mysterious nooks and niches.

At El Mnaidre, which signifies "the sheepfold," are more ruins of a
similar character, said to be the remains of a temple originally
dedicated to AEsculapius. We are here near the brink of the cliff
overlooking the sea, taking in a distant view of the rocky island of
Filfla, which looks like a huge whale come up from the depths to blow,
and pausing for a few moments upon the surface of the blue expanse. In
the face of the perpendicular rock sea-gulls find a safe home, where
they lay their eggs and rear their young. Instinct teaches them that
this abrupt cliff-formation is inaccessible to man. Flocks of these
white-winged birds are seen wheeling round about the locality,
especially at night and morning, together with the so-called
rock-pigeons, a sea-bird which also abounds upon the coast. It is a
lonely shore hereabout, with only an occasional ancient stone tower
commanding a view of the far-reaching Mediterranean. In troublous times
watch was kept from these stone structures, for the coming of Barbary
corsairs, or a possible Turkish inroad. There are a dozen or more of
these lookout stations, placed at suitable distances from each other.
They were built by Grand Master Martin de Redin more than two hundred
years ago, at his own expense, and form conspicuous objects on
approaching Malta from the northwest. They are now occupied by the
coast-guard placed here to watch for smugglers.

In the southwest part of the island, besides many more rock-cut tombs,
there are also some conspicuous ruins, showing the former existence here
of a large town, concerning which no other information survives. This
may also possibly have antedated the Phoenician period. One is led to
marvel that even the destructive power of time could have swept a large
and fixed population from the island, and have left no clearer record of
their existence behind them. The vicinity in which these ruins are found
affords a dreary prospect at present, whatever it may have been at some
former period. There is a trying meagreness in the landscape. One is
homesick for want of color. Everything except the sea is gray, while the
broad-spread rocky surface of the island is cheerless and repelling.
There are many caves on this southwest coast, some of which seem to
have been utilized as dwelling-places by a primitive people. Here and
there the calcareous rock has been worn into singular forms by
atmospheric influences and the incessant wash of the sea for ages, as
one sees the same material wrought upon at Biarritz, on the boisterous
Bay of Biscay. In one inlet there is a cavern very like the Blue Grotto
of Capri, in the Bay of Naples. Not far away is a natural arch, so broad
and high that a full-rigged ship of six hundred tons might sail through
it, with all her canvas spread and yards squared.

There are numerous heaps of ruins besides those we have mentioned, on
this side of the group, each one a history in itself, though nearly
effaced by time, written in a tongue which our scholars strive in vain
to unlock. The neighborhood is a Sahara of solitude, the scene of
gardens deserted long ago, abandoned vineyards, and palatial edifices
now nearly or quite crumbled to dust.

About six or seven miles from Valletta, near the hamlet of Casal Crendi,
there is a most singular oval depression of the land, about a hundred
and forty feet in depth, at the bottom of which is an orchard of fruit
trees. The ground about the grove is quite level, and measures over
three hundred feet in length by two hundred in width. Rugged and uneven
stone steps lead down the precipitous sides of this land basin. Nature
must have been in a very erratic mood when she created this singular
depression, at which the average visitor gazes with curious and puzzled
eyes. There is a gradual sinking of the country round about, until it
centres abruptly in the manner described. The place is known as Tal
Macluba, that is, "the overturned." The natives have a tradition about
the place to the effect that a casal once existed here, but the people
being unbelievers, and defiant towards the Almighty, the earth suddenly
opened, swallowing the village and the occupants thereof at a single
gulp.

Geologists explain the creation of this cylindrical hollow in a much
more reasonable and satisfactory manner.

These islands, as we have shown, are full of caves, formed by the
processes of nature, especially on the shores, where they are multiplied
by the ceaseless action and combinations of chemicals. Probably a
cavern, which had been ages in forming below this spot, finally
collapsed, and let the surface earth sink to fill the space it had so
long occupied. There is no evidence of any village or hamlet having ever
been situated near to this depression of the earth.

A similar hollow, of nearly the same dimensions, exists also in the
island of Gozo, at Kaura.

In the neighborhood of this chasm, of which we have spoken at length,
and of Casal Crendi, one is besieged by a swarm of beggars. The latter
place is a small agricultural village of more than usual importance. Its
ancient stone church contains some very interesting paintings, the
principal one of which bears the name of Rocco Buhagiar, who has also
some meritorious pictures in the churches of Valletta.

There is an ancient quarry near Crendi, in one of the cavities of which
some curious Roman remains have been found. A small bronze statue of
Hercules, perfect with the exception of one foot, was exhumed from this
place. It is a highly valuable memento of the far past, and should
certainly be in the museum at Valletta; but it is in private hands at
present. A very singular medal was also discovered in the crevices of
the rocks near the place where the Hercules was found. It has on the
convex side figures of soldiers in armor, and on the concave a group
which is supposed to represent Lot and his daughters. This medal is not
in the museum; but the custodian of the institution will give any
inquirer such information as will enable him to get sight of it.

In the little inland villages of stone cabins a pastoral air prevails;
but one occasionally witnesses novel scenes and unique performances,
such as small groups of peasantry dancing after a style erratic enough
to suit a Comanche Indian. The accompanying music, on the occasion we
refer to, was produced by a home-made instrument, which reminded one of
a Scotch bagpipe, only it was, if possible, still more trying to the
ears and nerves. It is known here as a _zagg_. It is made of an inflated
dog-skin, and is held under the musician's arm, with the defunct
animal's legs pointing upward. A sort of pipe is attached to this
air-bag, which is played upon with both hands. It is hardly necessary to
say that a more ungainly instrument could not well be conceived. A
tambourine accompaniment, performed by another party, is usually added
to the crude notes of the dog-skin affair. To the music of these simple
instruments the bodies of the dancers sway hither and thither in a
singular and apparently purposeless manner. There was, however, a
certain uniformity in the movements of the participants which showed
design of some sort. The dancers seemed to lose themselves in the
process, and to enjoy the queer pantomime, after a fashion. For
significance of purpose, or poetic design, this exhibition will not
compare with the tarantella, which the peasantry dance in southern
Italy, or with the dashing firefly dance of the common women of St.
Thomas, in the West Indies.

A league to the westward of Valletta is situated Casal Nasciar, which is
perched upon a steep hilltop, and forms a good type of an ordinary
Maltese village. Its stone church is nearly two centuries old, and
contains some interesting relics. The people native here claim for their
ancestors that they were the first in the group to receive Christian
baptism, a matter which they deem to be of immense importance. Just
outside of the village there is a statue of St. Paul, who is said to
have preached upon the spot where it stands. The site of this Casal
Nasciar is peculiar, being upon the summit of a great geological
"fault," of which there are two or three striking examples in the group.
The view from this village is far-reaching and beautiful, embracing
certain portions of the island which are under high cultivation.

One sees a different people in these interior towns or villages, the
inhabitants being more thoroughly Maltese than those of cosmopolitan
Valletta. After once looking upon the rich and fertile plains of
Nasciar, one no longer feels inclined to call Malta "only a sterile
rock."

Among the peasantry, stalwart, light-haired fellows are often met, with
bright faces and clear blue eyes, quite in contrast to their companions.
To account for the presence here of this type, we must go back and
inquire of the gallant, priestly Knights of St. John, whose elaborate
vows of celibacy were thinner than the parchment on which they were
written. The roads between the casals are, as a rule, excellent, the
rocky surface making them, as it were, naturally macadamized; but they
are so dusty as to be very trying to the eyes and lungs, impregnated as
the atmosphere is all through the dry season with the fine silex of the
friable surface rock. The dwellings of the people are flat-roofed and
all of stone, the abundant native material.

To reach Citta Vecchia from the present capital of Malta, one leaves
Valletta by the Porta Reale, the outlet of the city proper toward the
country. The town is closed by three gates,--that which has just been
named, the Porta Marsamuscetto, leading to Quarantine Harbor, and the
Marina Gate, conducting to Grand Harbor. Having crossed the broad
drawbridge which spans the deep, wide, artificial ditch, on looking back
one realizes how thoroughly the city proper is cut off from inland
access when this drawbridge is raised. There is no part of the elaborate
system of engineering for defensive purposes which does not seem to be
as nearly perfect as is possible for such works. The entire design is
masterly, and the consummation admirable.

After crossing into Floriana, we are still surrounded by a cordon of
elaborate fortifications, demi-lunes, curtains, and ditches. This suburb
is so named for the engineer who planned this curious and intricate maze
of ravelins and bastions. This was Pietro Paolo Floriani. The place
might have been thus appropriately called on account of its gardens,
verdure, and flowers. As soon as the bridge is crossed, there lies
before us a level space designed for military parades, an esplanade
large enough for manoeuvring two or three thousand troops. The ditch
which separates the city from Floriana is intended as a final barrier to
any invasion from the land side; it is nearly a thousand yards long,
sixty feet deep, and thirty wide, cut out of the natural rock, and
reaches from Quarantine to Grand Harbor.

It is customary for strangers coming hither to visit the church of San
Publio, a curious old sanctuary full of altars, pictures, and cheap
images, together with any amount of tawdry gilding. Here one sees
innumerable emblems, such as arms, legs, ears, feet, and hands,
represented in wax, silver, and wood, hanging upon the walls, thus
placed as thank-offerings for cures experienced by various sufferers. So
the temples of Japan represented centuries ago, and do so still, a
similar custom, each emblem being specially dedicated to the deity or
spirit which received credit for the donor's cure.

The streets of Floriana intersect each other at right angles. The
central and principal one, Strada Santa Anna, is a broad thoroughfare,
with attractive and sheltering arcades on either side. In the Piazza
Maggiore is the Soldier's and Sailor's Home, an excellent charitable
institution, furnished with a good serviceable library, a reading and
writing room, smoking and other rooms. This admirably conceived and
philanthropic organization is calculated to greatly benefit and improve
the class for whom it is designed, affording them not only respectable
accommodations, but occupation for their leisure hours. There is a
similar institution in the city proper, which we should not fail to
mention. It is situated in the Strada Cavaliere, "Street of the
Knights," forming a resort for sailors, soldiers, and marines, and
conducing to their moral and intellectual improvement. It is very
judiciously managed by a committee of European citizens, and to
strangers is certainly significant of the spirit of progress which seems
to prevail among the officials at Malta.

There is a well-arranged theatre in Floriana, the Princess, where
amateur performances mostly occupy the stage. The botanical gardens of
this section afford a charming exhibition of a floral and arboreal
character, where the genial climate seconds the tasteful efforts of the
intelligent florist. This suburb of the capital contains many fine
dwellings, shops, and manufacturing establishments. There are also
extensive barracks, and one or two regiments of English infantry are
always quartered here.

In Floriana are situated the numerous spacious vaults, cut out of the
solid rock, for the storage of grain to support the garrison and
populace in case Malta were compelled to sustain a long siege. Here,
too, are the catacombs belonging to the old Capuchin convent, founded in
1588, where the dead bodies of the brotherhood are preserved, clad in
their usual robes and arranged in sitting postures, filling nooks in the
walls. Here and thus they remain for many, many years, until the slow
process of decay crumbles both body and bones to dust. This is a
Sicilian idea early imported into these islands, "a custom," we should
say, "more honored in the breach than the observance." These dreary,
cadaverous corpses are supported in the positions which they are made to
assume by means of steel wires hidden beneath their scanty robes. If
this strange mode of disposing of human bodies after death has any
really worthy and reasonable purpose, or if it is of any possible
advantage to the quick or the dead, we are too obtuse to believe it.
Sightseers call a visit to the sepulchral chamber, "going to see the
Baked Monks," it being generally believed that the bodies go through
some toasting or drying process which preserves them.

About the walls of this mortuary chamber myriads of bleached human
bones of beings who died centuries ago are fantastically arranged. From
this collection ghostly skulls peer at the visitor with a sort of
derisive, satanic grin. Perhaps it will be argued that all this is
calculated to suggest the fleeting nature of earthly things, but the
moral is too far-fetched. The uncanny smell of the place still haunts
us, like the mummy flavor from certain receptacles in Cairo and
Alexandria. We were told that this mode of disposing of the deceased
monks had been discontinued, that they were now buried like other bodies
after death, and that the Church of Rome tolerated such exposure of the
mortal remains of the faithful simply as a check to human pride. "To
this complexion must we come at last." We were not convinced by the
explanation of the propriety or desirability of these mummy exhibitions.

A somewhat similar display of skeletons, but without drapery of any
sort, may be seen under the Hospital for Incurables at Valletta, in what
is termed La Chapelle des Morts, where bleached skulls and whitened
bones are stored in fantastic shapes by the thousand. Both this and the
Floriana chamber naturally recalled the charnel-house of the Capuchin
church in Rome. This church, it will be remembered, contains Guido's
renowned Archangel Michael.




CHAPTER XIV.

      The Chivalric Order of St. John.--Humble Beginning of the
      Organization.--Hospitallers.--Days of the Crusades.--Motto
      of the Brotherhood.--Peter Gerard.--The Monk lost in the
      Soldier.--At Acre, Cyprus, and Rhodes.--Naval Operations.
      --Siege of Rhodes.--Garden of the Levant.--Piratical Days.
      --Six Months of Bloodshed.--Awful Destruction of Human
      Life.--A Famous Fighting Knight.--Final Evacuation of
      Rhodes by the Order.


Our story of Malta would be incomplete unless we gave a succinct and
consecutive account of the famous Order of the Knights of St. John, to
whom we have so often alluded in the foregoing pages, and who have left
upon this island more of their personality than all the other
sovereignties that preceded or have succeeded them. While we freely
reprehend their many and glaring faults, we are forced to admire and
praise their energy, their heroic bravery, and their undoubted spirit of
enterprise. Providence saw fit to raise up this fraternity for its own
good purpose, and perhaps it was the one element needed to cope with the
exigencies of the troublous times in which they flourished. They played
their important and tragic part in the great drama of the ages, and
passed away. The ashes of their last representatives now lie beneath the
mortuary mosaics of the church of St. John.

The beginning of the organization was, as already intimated, of a very
humble character, but being in its purpose founded upon true Christian
principles, it challenged at the outset the just admiration of many
sincere and devout people, who gladly joined in furthering its estimable
object, and thus it grew, though very slowly at first, until finally it
became a great power throughout the civilized nations, exercising in its
day a vast degree of both religious and political influence. The Grand
Masters of the order took position among the highest potentates of the
age, and were given the post of honor next to that of royalty itself, at
all assemblies of state to which they were called.

A few sincere, energetic, and practical individuals, said to have been
Italian merchants from Amalfi, then belonging to the kingdom of Naples,
impressed by the peculiar exigencies of the time and place, solemnly
joined themselves together as a sacred fraternity, at Jerusalem, by
taking upon themselves vows of indissoluble brotherhood, and of chastity
and poverty. Little did the pious, self-abnegating Peter Gerard, the
accredited father of the Hospitallers, when collecting a few friends
together at his own humble dwelling in the latter part of the tenth
century, realize that he was then and there founding an order whose
power should presently become the main prop of Christianity, as
sustained against the energetic inroads of the Ottoman power. The avowed
purpose of these men thus banded together was to devote their lives to
the care and protection of poor, oppressed, and sick pilgrims, who had
come from afar to the sacred city as the Mecca of their religious
faith. After a considerable period of usefulness in the direction
indicated, and seeing the possibilities before them, they obtained
permission from the Caliph of Egypt to found a hospital for the use of
the sick and the needy, but especially in behalf of those who came from
foreign lands to visit the Holy Sepulchre. The rapid increase in the
service they had assumed soon demanded the erection of a second
hospital, or annex, one being devoted to women and the other to men.
This enlarged capacity soon rendered it necessary to create a sisterhood
of regular nurses, composed of self-devoted women actuated by the same
Christian sentiments which had given rise to the formation of the
brotherhood. The hospice prospered beyond the most sanguine hopes of its
originators. Grateful pilgrims who had shared its hospitalities, on
returning to their distant homes, spread the fame of its charities all
over Europe, thus arousing the warmest enthusiasm, and liberal
contributions of money were freely given in its behalf. To meet the
necessities of the case, a chapel was in time duly added to the hospice,
thus forming a very complete and well-organized whole, which may be said
to have been the cradle of the afterward famous Order of the Knights of
Malta.

There can be no reasonable doubt that the early members of the
fraternity, when they were best known as Hospitallers, were entirely
consistent in their object, as it was announced to the world, and that
they were actuated solely by the highest sense of duty and of Christian
endeavor. The sick were healed, the hungry fed, an economical and
unostentatious hospitality was exercised toward one and all, and good,
effective, charitable work was constantly performed. These
self-appointed servants of the poor and unfortunate were sincere
followers of the Master, and devoted to his service. Those who were at
this time in power at Jerusalem, though professed Mohammedans, were
apparently won by the liberality of the organization, in freely
extending its charities to all of the native population who applied for
aid. Christian and infidel fared alike in sharing the benefits of the
hospice. No unfortunate one was turned away from its gates empty-handed,
when actual want drove him to supplicate for the Christian's aid. If
such were poor and needy, these were the only credentials required to
command the free services of the brotherhood of Hospitallers, who
derived this name from their special care of the sick, and by it they
were solely known in the early days at Jerusalem. Their governing motto
was: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my
brethren, ye have done it unto me."

As we have said, generous, sympathetic people all over Europe subscribed
liberally toward the support of this sacred charity; the Hospitallers
became the almoners of their spontaneous bounty. Prince and peasant alike
contributed, each one in accordance with his means. All were enthusiastic
and cheerful givers. This condition of affairs was, however, abruptly
changed by the new conquerors of the country,--warlike Turks, who
ignored the tolerance of their Mussulman predecessors. They at once
instituted a system of persecution with regard to the Christians which
became intolerable, and which almost entirely obstructed the design and
the operations of the organization of the Hospitallers. It was thus in
self-defense that the fraternity gradually developed into a band of
soldier-monks and armed physicians, adding to their original vows a new
and important clause, binding themselves to combat with warlike weapons
on all suitable occasions in behalf of their religious faith, and to
protect themselves with arms in their hands from their infidel
oppressors.

It was not long after the Hospitallers were driven from the sacred city,
and their leader, Peter Gerard, imprisoned, that the remarkable
expeditions known in history as the Crusades were organized, their
object being the rescue of Jerusalem from the possession of the Turks.
This uprising of Europeans finally resulted in the capture by them of
the ancient city, under the command of Godefroi de Bouillon, the
illustrious leader of the first Crusade, in 1099. All Christendom
rejoiced. Peter Gerard was released from his dungeon, and the banner of
the cross superseded that of the crescent in the province of Judaea. One
of the great epochs of history at the close of the tenth century was
when Godefroi was proclaimed first Christian king of Jerusalem.

Nearly eight hundred years have passed away since this interesting era
of the world's progress, and one pauses reflectively to realize and to
moralize over the fact that the "Holy Land" is still Mohammedan. It is
the crescent, not the cross, which floats to-day upon the breezes of
Palestine. No Peter the Hermit preaches a new Crusade in this nineteenth
century, to recover possession of the Holy Sepulchre.

We are writing of a period when personal prowess was considered the
great essential of true manhood. Learning and the sciences were left to
monks and the cloister. The profession of arms, therefore, attracted all
noble and ambitious youths,--it was in fact the only path open to
chivalric purposes, and which led to high preferment. The spirit of the
age was one of superstition and veneration combined, so that it was easy
to raise a host of brave followers for the purpose of fighting the
Moslems, and of rescuing Jerusalem from their possession. A belief that
the shedding of one's blood in such a cause not only purchased
forgiveness for all sins, but also insured to the soldiers of the cross
the future joys of heaven, prevailed in those days among high and low,
throughout Europe. Recruits for the ranks of the Crusaders required no
urging. They marched at first, like an impetuous mob, in myriads toward
the East, and were defeated, as a matter of course; but learning wisdom
by experience, they duly organized themselves, and victory followed.

Though the avowed purpose of the brotherhood of whom we write was one of
charity, peace, and good-will toward men, of self-abnegation and
devotion to good works, especially embracing the idea of nursing the
sick, still, owing to the exigencies of the situation, as we have shown,
the organization gradually developed into a complete military order, and
presently came to be known the world over as the Knights of St. John;
the significant and at first strictly appropriate title of Hospitallers
was over-shadowed by the more soldierly one of Knights. Their first
military duty was that of escorting pilgrims to and from the coast,
guarding them from the frequently fatal violence of the natives. The
field of their operation became rapidly enlarged, and they grew to be
more and more warlike, until presently the soldier got the better of the
monk, and from acting only in self-defense at the outset, the order
eventually became boldly aggressive. Their ranks were recruited by
soldierly additions from among the Crusaders, and their banner of the
white cross floated victoriously over many a hard fought field of
battle, when the Christians were fiercely struggling with the possessors
of Palestine.

From Jerusalem the order removed to Acre, in Syria, about the year 1187,
where Richard Coeur de Lion established a headquarters for the
Knights, and here they remained as an organization for about one hundred
years, devoting themselves only in part to their original design as a
religious and charitable body, but redoubling their belligerency toward
the Moslems. An opportunity for conflict was never avoided by these
military monks, and unless they were beset by ten times their own
numbers, the Knights were almost certain to be victorious. Finally,
overpowered by the Turks, in a terrific and decisive battle, they were
expelled from Acre, those who escaped the awful massacre taking refuge
in Cyprus. This was in the year 1291. In this island, which Richard I.
of England captured from the Saracens, the order maintained itself for
the comparatively brief period of twenty years; but at last, forced to
abandon the place, they seized upon the island of Rhodes, about the year
1310, which was then in the possession of Mohammedan pirates and Greek
rebels. The Knights were not in open warfare against Greece, though they
bore its people no special good-will. The Greeks had secretly opposed
the Crusaders, and by treachery had aided the Turks on more than one
important occasion.

We were speaking of the seizure of the island of Rhodes, which was a
matter of no small importance, and to accomplish which involved
herculean efforts at the very outset.

The enemy were so well organized and so thoroughly equipped with
defensive material, that it required four years of incessant and
vigorous warfare before the Knights finally gained undisputed
sovereignty on the island. In this sanguinary and protracted struggle
the order was nearly exterminated, losing hundreds of its best and
bravest members, but their places were gradually filled by fresh
acquisitions from Europe. There was a spirit of emulation in the ranks
of the Knights, as to the exhibition of bravery and prowess exercised
against the enemy, which often led them to great personal exposure, and
to the performance of heroic deeds. The individual conflicts were
frequently characterized more by rashness than by good judgment and
bravery. In the period of which we write, the mode of warfare and of
military organization left much freer scope for individual gallantry and
originality of purpose, much freer play for personal prowess. Men fought
less like machines and more like heroes than it is possible for them to
do under our modern system of combinations and of implicit obedience to
orders. The hope of successful and gallant adventure spurred on the most
indifferent to do something which should lead to distinction. Emulation
is an instinctive quality in those who make a profession of arms, and
fighting is an appetite which grows by what it feeds upon. Emulation and
imitation have been called twins.

It was after almost incredible suffering and persistency of effort that
the Order of St. John was finally settled at Rhodes upon a firmer basis
than it had ever before enjoyed, and here it remained sovereign for over
two centuries, becoming so identified with the place as to be known
throughout Christendom as the Knights of Rhodes. They had little
opportunity for the exercise of those Christian virtues which they had
heretofore claimed for their fraternity, but their character as a
warlike brotherhood did not suffer by want of aggressiveness upon their
part.

This most beautiful island of Rhodes, which was about one third larger
than Malta, embowered with palms and citron groves, flourished
wonderfully under the sovereignty of the Knights, while the order itself
steadily increased in numbers, power, and wealth. The neighboring
islands of Telos, Syme, Nisyros, Cos, Leros, and Calymna, known on the
old charts as the Sporades, were conquered one after another and annexed
to the island of Rhodes, thus coming under the governorship of the Grand
Masters of the Knights. While establishing themselves in this island and
strengthening its half-ruined defenses, the most profitable employment
of the Knights was privateering, or, more correctly, active piracy. They
cruised against all Mohammedan and Greek vessels. True, their vows only
bound them to perpetual warfare against the Turks, but a very little
stretching of their consciences enabled them to see no wrong in
capturing the commercial property of the Greeks also. It must be
admitted that the latter people, as a maritime nation, were themselves
ever a predatory race. Might alone made right in the waters of the
Levant, and especially so in the Grecian archipelago. No candid writer
can defend the marine policy of the Greeks, and perhaps the Knights of
St. John only meted to these rovers the same treatment which they (the
Greeks) were used to accord to others. All history shows that the
eastern basin of the Mediterranean was for centuries a swarming nest of
corsairs of various nationalities, Greeks, Turks, and Algerines. Any
attempt to transfer a legitimate cargo of merchandise from an Asiatic to
a European port by way of the Straits of Gibraltar was to run the
gauntlet of a fleet of piratical vessels which preyed indiscriminately
upon the commerce of all nations. Those we have named were the most
numerous among these sea robbers, the Turks and Algerines making war
together upon the Knights of Rhodes, who retaliated upon them with
interest, both on the land and on the sea. The Knights pursued these
powers with most unchristianlike vengeance, pertinacity, and success.

The adventurous life followed by the order proved to be terribly
demoralizing to the individual members, and especially incompatible with
the observance of their religious vows and discipline. The frequent
division of prize money, the constant capture of luxuries of all sorts,
and of female prisoners, led to gambling, drinking, and debauchery on
shore, until all semblance of respect for monastic ties utterly
vanished. This was not because the Knights were so much worse than the
average people of their time, for lawlessness was the characteristic of
the age, but it was the natural outgrowth of the extraordinary
circumstances in which they were involved,--circumstances which created
an overstrained energy neither natural nor healthful. Insubordination
and jealousies frequently broke out among the order, to quell which the
severest measures were promptly adopted. The Grand Masters more than
once resorted to the extremest punishment, even including the death
penalty.

Following up their supremacy on the sea, the Knights continued to fight
the Turks and Greeks, wherever found, until at last scarcely a vessel
bearing the flag of either of them dared to venture out of port. Four
times the Mussulmans made prodigious efforts to dislodge the Knights
from Rhodes; but on each occasion they were signally defeated. The
warlike Turks grew more and more formidable, while they were constantly
goaded by the fresh aggressions of the Knights.

Besides being actuated by a desire for revenge upon an enemy who had not
only so nearly ruined the commerce of Turkey, but who had raided so many
of the unprotected coast towns, carrying off the inhabitants and selling
them into slavery, Solyman, Sultan of Turkey, was burning with envy. He
coveted the island, which, under the Knights of St. John, had been made
to "blossom like the rose." So he "swore by his own head," says an
ancient writer, that he would possess Rhodes, if it cost the lives of
half his army to conquer it. Vast preparations were therefore made to
carry on, if necessary, a protracted siege. At great labor and expense
all the available forces of the Ottoman navy and army were brought
together and organized for this purpose, in the year 1522. The writers
of that period tell us that two hundred thousand men were transported to
Rhodes from Constantinople, commanded by the emperor in person. To
oppose this gigantic host the order could bring but six or seven hundred
Knights and less than six thousand men-at-arms. But every Knight was a
host in himself, while the common soldiers were well armed and
thoroughly disciplined.

The army of the Sultan took position before the fortifications of Rhodes
with all their implements of war, in a manner which showed that they had
come to stay until victory should perch upon their banners. They stormed
the stout defenses again and again, with great loss of life on their
part. The Knights gallantly withstood all their furious and frenzied
efforts for a period of six months, often sallying forth and
slaughtering myriads of the Ottomans in hand-to-hand conflicts. The
Turks did not lack for courage. They always fought with desperation; but
in personal conflict, man to man, they were no match for the stout
cavaliers of the white cross, who, besides having the advantage of
weight and physical strength, were protected by impenetrable steel
armor, while the Orientals wore only their flowing robes and turbans of
linen. Vastly outnumbering the Knights, this very disproportion was to
their disadvantage, often causing them to be swept out of existence by
the score, from the solid phalanx which they presented to the keen
weapons of the Christians. The light arms and the agility of the
soldiers of the Sultan were of little comparative avail when met by the
heavy blows and ponderous battle-axes wielded by stout Europeans. Among
the vows of the Knights was a most significant one, namely, "never to
reckon the number of an enemy." Vast superiority of numbers, however,
told at last, for the besieged were utterly worn out. Quarter was
neither asked nor given by either side; but when the combatants met,
they fought to the last gasp. It was a war of extermination on the part
of both Christians and Turks. The latter, being really the weaker party,
went down by hundreds.

Including the killed and severely wounded, together with those who died
of fever and various diseases incident to camp life, it is
authoritatively stated that the Turks lost one hundred and sixty
thousand men in the six months' siege of Rhodes, showing a dogged
persistency which was probably never surpassed, if it has been equaled,
in warfare. It should be remembered that the enormous host of the
Ottomans was opposed by only about five or six thousand men, who,
however, mostly fought from behind protecting stone walls.

In order to show the spirit which actuated the Knights, and their
unscrupulous mode of warfare, we will relate a well-authenticated
instance connected with this remarkable siege.

One of the famous fighters in the ranks of the Order of St. John was a
Frenchman who bore the name of Fornonius, who is declared to have killed
over six hundred of the enemy during the six months' contest! His
prowess was not only marvelous in the open field and upon the ramparts
when engaged in repelling an assault, but he would lie in wait, like a
hunter of wild beasts, for hours together, to obtain the chance of
killing a Mussulman. When a sortie was made against the besiegers,
Fornonius was always found in the van, rushing among the enemy, and with
one terrible sweeping reach of his keen-edged battle-axe, he would sever
three or four heads from their bodies, keeping up a shower of these
frightful blows, aimed right and left, until the astonished Ottomans,
notwithstanding their usually reckless bravery, fled in utter dismay
before what seemed to them a superhuman power. Even his comrades
believed that he bore a charmed life; for, although he received many
slight wounds, he was never touched in a vital part, and he boasted that
he had not been out of "fighting trim" during the whole of that long
siege, night or day. His example was in a degree contagious, and the
Knights, thoroughly trained to the use of arms, vied with each other in
their murderous efforts against the common enemy.

This gallant, though in one sense useless defense of the island was
sustained so long and so successfully against such desperate odds, as to
establish the fame of the Knights for persistent bravery, commanding
even the respect and admiration of their enemies. The Turks had resolved
upon the conquest of the place, let it cost what blood it might, and
were constantly reinforced by fresh troops from Constantinople. Although
the Knights were finally obliged to yield, they were enabled to retire
from Rhodes upon advantageous terms, or to use the military phrase, upon
"honorable" terms. It was on this historic occasion that Charles V.
exclaimed in admiration: "There has been nothing so well lost in the
world as Rhodes."

The Sultan of Turkey, to the great surprise of all the world, which had
been looking on with deepest interest at this sanguinary struggle upon
the most beautiful island of the Levant, proved himself to be, as an
enemy, brave and persistent; as a conqueror, mild and merciful. The
Knights, during the long period in which they had possessed Rhodes, had
not failed to attack every galley bearing the Ottoman flag which they
sighted, nor hesitated to destroy every coast town belonging to that
power which they could reach, or to burn any Mohammedan mosque when they
got near enough to apply the torch. Added to all this, they had
constantly captured and carried into slavery Turkish men, women, and
children by the hundreds. The Sultan, under such aggravating
circumstances, would have been fully justified, according to the code of
warfare practiced in those days, in putting every belligerent whom he
found in Rhodes to the sword. To conquer the island had cost him a vast
amount of treasure, together with a hundred and sixty thousand of his
best soldiers,--a terrible price to pay for victory. Notwithstanding
this long list of bitter aggressions, according to our idea, Sultan
Solyman showed himself to be far more humane and generous than did the
professed Christians of the Order of St. John.

The liberal and remarkable terms granted by the conquerors of Rhodes
were in brief as follows:--

The Knights agreed to promptly and peaceably evacuate the island and its
dependencies within twelve days, being permitted to take with them their
arms and personal effects, even including such church ornaments and
treasures as they chose to move. Those of the citizens of Rhodes who
desired to do so could depart in the same manner, while the Christians
who remained were to be unmolested, and permitted to worship in their
usual manner. The Sultan was to provide ships, and to provision them,
with which to transport to Crete all who desired to go thither. These
liberal, not to say generous terms were faithfully adhered to, except in
one instance,--all the Christian churches in Rhodes were promptly turned
into Mohammedan mosques.

It is said that less than a hundred of the Knights of the order remained
alive to avail themselves of the Sultan's clemency! What a comment upon
the gallant and protracted fight which they had made! Of course there
were numerous men-at-arms attached to the brotherhood, who also followed
its fortunes into exile, saying nothing of the non-combatants who
accompanied them.

The fall of Rhodes left Sultan Solyman for the time being sole master of
the eastern basin of the Mediterranean. There were now none to dispute
his power in the AEgean, Ionian, or Adriatic seas. The Greeks were of
small account, while the Algerines were in fact his allies. The Turks,
who were by no means originally a maritime people, had gradually, by
force of circumstances, become so, and at this time they were as daring
pirates as the dreaded Algerines of the African coast.

From this period the Order of St. John was homeless, and continued so
for six or seven years, maintaining temporary headquarters at Candia,
Messina, Cumae, and Viterbo. Its officers, dispersed among the several
courts of Europe, strove ceaselessly for recognition and reorganization.
The long siege through which they had so lately passed had quite
exhausted their immediate resources, and reduced their number to a mere
nucleus. It had been, as we have shown, a fearful and most destructive
warfare. The aged Grand Master, L'Isle Adam, repaired to Rome, where he
did not cease his endeavors to influence the Pope in behalf of the
order; that functionary either did not desire, or does not seem to have
been able to do anything in its behalf. Finally, the island of Malta,
having fallen into the possession of Charles V. of Germany, was
presented by him in perpetuity to the homeless Knights of St. John. To
an order which had no local habitation, and which was just then so
universally ignored by the reigning monarchs, and even by the Pope, this
was seemingly a great boon, a noble gift; but the real facts of the case
rob the act of any spirit of true generosity. The royal owner cared very
little for the possession of Malta, Gozo, and Tripoli, the latter
situated on the adjacent coast of Barbary. He was in reality glad to get
rid of dependencies which cost him a large sum of money annually to
garrison and maintain, but from which he received no equivalent
whatever. They were empty possessions to him, ministering neither to his
pride nor his treasury. The emperor, nevertheless, made a virtue of
their relinquishment, and bound the order, as a condition of the gift,
never under any circumstances to take up arms against his lineage. These
terms were acceded to, and were ever after scrupulously observed, though
on more than one occasion the loyalty of the Knights was sorely tried.

As to Tripoli, the order did not desire to possess it at all, and would
have been glad not to have taken charge of it. Tripoli was indeed a
white elephant, to speak figuratively, but the emperor was
persistent,--the three dependencies must go together. His pride would
not permit him to abandon the place to the Turks, so he insisted on its
going with Malta and Gozo into the custody of the Order of St. John. He
knew very well that the Knights were in no condition to dictate terms,
and he took advantage accordingly. So the fraternity in their then
weakened condition were forced to take charge of a distant dependency,
the maintenance of which must draw heavily upon their circumscribed
resources.

The order is said to have been upon the point of making a permanent
settlement at Genoa, where it had long before established one of its
most successful commanderies, but the decision was finally made in favor
of Malta. The Grand Master was influenced by the strategic situation,
and also on account of the advantages it presented for being most
effectually fortified. Against these considerations, however, he was
obliged to weigh the sterile character of the rocky group, which at that
time presented a most inhospitable aspect. The latter cause so affected
a large portion of the Knights, who looked more to the present than the
future, that a strong party was raised in open opposition to the choice
of this group for their future home, but the decision of the Grand
Master was final; there was no appeal from his mandate when it had been
issued. L'Isle Adam's decision proved ultimately to be the grandest move
ever made by the order, viewed from the results which were thus brought
about.

As regarded Tripoli, its situation was more than precarious from the
very first, having often to be defended against savage onslaughts made
by the warlike Algerines. It was an outpost which only a rich and
numerous people could afford to hold, and to the Knights of St. John it
was worse than worthless. When the loss of the place occurred,
therefore, some twenty years subsequent, in 1551, at which time it was
surrendered after much hard fighting, to Dragut, the most daring and
successful corsair of the century, it was a positive advantage to the
Knights. Thereafter they were enabled to concentrate all their energies
and means upon what was of infinitely more importance, namely, the
fortification and strengthening of their principal holdings, the islands
of Malta and Gozo.




CHAPTER XV.

      Settlement of the Order at Malta.--A Barren Waste.--A New
      Era for the Natives.--Foundling Hospitals.--Grand Master La
      Vallette.--Sailors and Soldiers.--Capture of Prisoners at
      Mondon.--A Slave Story in Brief.--Christian Corsairs!--The
      Ottomans attack the Knights in their New Home.--Defeat of
      the Turks.--Terrible Slaughter of Human Beings.--Civil
      War.--Summary Punishment.--Some Details of a Famous Siege.


When the Knights of St. John accepted the gift of Charles V., and
removed to their new island home in October, 1530, they came in small
numbers. Their fleet consisted only of three galleys, one galliot, and a
brigantine. Malta was then comparatively a barren waste; nothing could
appear less inviting. With the picture of verdant, sunny Rhodes still
fresh in their minds, these bare rocks must have seemed terribly
inhospitable and dreary to the new-comers. The very title of Rhodes is
of Greek origin, having its appropriate appellation, and refers to the
great number of wild roses which grow spontaneously upon that lovely
island. The Knights had lived long and prosperously upon what was and is
still known as the "Garden of the Levant," hence the contrast was
naturally disheartening. Here the rocky surface was treeless and white
with desolation. In Rhodes they had left whole forests of sycamores,
planes, and palms, together with groves of olive, almond, and orange
trees, while in Malta arboreal ornamentation was literally conspicuous
by its absence.

The thirty-fourth parallel of north latitude intersects both of these
famous islands, which are, however, separated by six degrees of
longitude, the climate being nearly identical. Rhodes was larger than
their new island home, its earlier history showing it to have been, like
Malta, at one time in the far past, a prosperous Phoenician colony.
There was no alternative for the Knights except to make the best of the
situation, and so without wasting time in useless regrets, or repining,
they set to work energetically to introduce improvements, and to adapt
the locality to their most urgent necessities. The present site of
Valletta was then sparsely occupied by a few poorly constructed cabins,
Citta Vecchia, situated two leagues inland, being the capital of the
island. The Knights first selected their headquarters at Borgo, on the
shore of the present Grand Harbor. After the decisive victory over the
Turks in 1565, Borgo was named Citta Vittoriosa, that is, the
"victorious city," in honor of the gallant defense it made on that
memorable occasion, and thus it is known to-day.

As to the Maltese peasantry, who were thus summarily transferred from
one mastership to another without being permitted any voice whatever in
the matter, they naturally received the new-comers at first with
considerable reservation, but were soon on friendly terms with them, and
erelong they cordially joined interests. At the first coming of the
Knights, it is true, the Maltese were not in a condition to dispute the
new authority placed over them, yet they had influence enough to exact
from the brotherhood certain satisfactory terms as the price of their
yielding ready submission. The Grand Master, in behalf of the order,
solemnly swore to "preserve inviolate, for the inhabitants of the group,
all of their present rights, customs, and privileges." Realizing the
importance of retaining the good-will of the people, the fraternity as a
body were careful to exercise towards them, in these early days of their
settlement here, great consideration and generosity. They did not bear
themselves as conquerors, but rather as friends, a community having a
common interest, and they demanded no service from the Maltese for which
they did not honestly pay. They encouraged them to till the ground by
introducing new seeds, and by giving the natives valuable and practical
information. They brought fruit and ornamental trees from the mainland,
and in many ways stimulated the islanders to adopt progressive and
profitable ideas for their own special benefit. The Maltese were a
coarse, uncultured race, scarcely amenable to argument, and difficult to
reason with. They followed in the footsteps of their forefathers, and
ignored all experiments, however promising. But tangible results were
convincing, and so steady improvement followed the efforts of the
Knights to enlighten the dull native brain.

It was the beginning of a new era for this isolated people. The spirit
of neglect which had so long reigned supreme upon the group was now
superseded by another instinct with life and enterprise. Though the
natives had not sufficient intelligence to originate ideas, yet when
placed before their eyes they could appreciate and adopt them. The mass
of the people seemed neither to know nor to care about the government
under which they lived, provided they did not experience any personal
harm or undue restrictions at the hands of those in power. They appeared
to be content so long as they were permitted to join in the almost daily
church processions and festivals, always remembering and demanding the
utmost freedom at recurrence of the annual Carnival. They entertained no
spirit of loyalty except towards themselves and their hereditary forms
and ceremonies. This was nearly four hundred years ago, but almost
precisely the same spirit prevails among the Maltese to-day.

At the time when the Knights first came hither, Malta was hardly
fortified at all. True, Fort St. Angelo existed in name, and it mounted
a few small guns, but a score of Algerine pirates could have landed and
taken possession, so far as any protection was afforded by this apology
for a fort.

The thin layer of soil which covered the rocks of the island here and
there was hardly sufficient to till, and no extensive effort at
agriculture or gardening seems to have been made by the natives before
the Knights came to Malta, or at least not for centuries. In any other
hands save those of this thrifty and determined semi-military
organization, the island would have been but a sorry gift. It is
described by a popular writer of that period as being "nothing better
than a shelterless rock of soft sandstone called tufa." Subsistence for
the dwellers upon the group, with the exception of fish, which were
plenty enough, was brought almost entirely from Sicily, or the mainland.
Frequent invasions of Saracens and Turks, continued for so many years,
had devastated the islands, discouraging and impoverishing the natives,
large numbers of whom had been carried away by the invaders and sold
into slavery. This was the usual mode of disposing of prisoners of war
in those days among people of the East. According to the authority from
which we have just quoted, Malta was in 1530 "intensely dry and hot,
with not a forest tree, and hardly a green thing to rest the eye upon."
This barren waste, however, was destined in the course of a few years to
put on a very different aspect, and to become an attractive example of
fertility and fruitfulness; in fact, a depot of vast importance, by the
exercise of energy and engineering skill.

The material improvements thus introduced, together with the protection
from foreign enemies which the Maltese gained, was to be considered with
many qualifications. Magdalen asylums and foundling hospitals, to which
priests and Knights could recommend their favorites for shelter, became
most suspiciously numerous. The inference is only too plain. The native
population, as usual, emulated not the virtues, but the vices of the
new-comers. That the group must have flourished greatly under the
Phoenicians, Greeks, Carthaginians, and Romans, there are plenty of
monuments still extant to prove; but under the Arabs and Sicilians it
had gradually declined, until the period when it came into possession of
the Knights of St. John, who began promptly to restore its fallen
fortunes, though, as has been intimated, at the expense of the morals of
the people.

The galleys of the order did not lie idle after the fraternity had
become fairly settled at Malta. They were promptly put in fighting
condition, and constantly swept the neighboring seas, capturing prizes
in all directions, even seeking the Turkish craft at the very mouth of
the Dardanelles, and the Algerines on their own coast. The Knights
filled the fighting ranks of the crews in their ships with Maltese, who
were admirable sailors, and reliable for all sorts of sea-service. A
score of Knights were quite sufficient to man each galleon, aided by a
hundred or thereabouts of the trained seamen of the island. The slaves
at the oars were not depended upon to act as belligerents, nor were the
few hands who managed the sails and the running gear of the vessels. The
Maltese had long before signalized themselves for valor and skillful
seamanship under their own commanders, by capturing the entire Venetian
fleet, together with Andrea Dandolo, the admiral who commanded it. At
another time they destroyed the large flotilla of the Republic of Pisa,
and thus raised the siege and blockade of Syracuse. Though the
protection afforded the inhabitants of the group by the Order of St.
John was ample, and freed the people from all fear of predatory
invasions, still the influence of the Knights was less for peace than
for war, and, as has been shown, was not calculated to permanently
improve the material condition of the common people of Malta.

The renowned Dragut, daring and reckless pirate as he was, shunned a
meeting with the red galleys of the Knights. "Fate is with them," said
this dreaded corsair, referring to the armor-clad Knights, whom he had
so often met in battle. "Our swords will not wound, nor our spears
pierce them."

La Vallette, who was at this time "General" of the galleys, proved
himself as successful at sea as he did afterwards upon the land, when,
as Grand Master, he conducted the famous and successful defense of
Malta. His career was a remarkable one. He became a Knight before he was
of age, and was conscientiously devoted to the order, body and soul, to
the very last of his life. A predatory warfare both on land and sea was
carried on incessantly by the Knights against the Turks, in which they
were almost always successful. The historians tell us that during the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Valletta became a vast slave mart,
supplied with human merchandise by means of the invasions and
sea-captures of the order. On one occasion a thoroughly organized and
well-equipped force engaged in an expedition by which the Knights
surprised and captured the city of Mondon, in Morea, whence they brought
away a large amount of riches. We find enumerated in the list of their
booty, eight hundred Turkish women and girls, whom they enslaved! The
reader will please remember that we are writing of a fraternity,--a
so-called religious brotherhood,--whose solemn vows bound them to
charity, poverty, humility, and chastity. One feels not a little
inclined to moralize, in this connection, upon the contrast between
profession and practice, and on the weakness of human nature in general.
These Knights of the cross reveled in cruel warfare; it was recreation
to them. They displayed no want of valor, but they did exhibit "a
plentiful lack" of Christian charity.

Among the beautiful women who fell into the hands of the Knights at the
capture of Mondon was one possessed of marvelous loveliness both of form
and features. Soon after her capture she became the property of Viscomte
Cicala, who finally made her his wife. Being his slave, there could be
no choice on her part, whether she would consent to the arrangement or
not. The fruit of this marriage was a son, whom the father named Scipio,
and had baptized into the Roman Catholic faith. This boy, when he grew
up to man's estate, as the story runs, to fulfill a solemn vow made to
his mother hastened to Constantinople, where he enlisted in the Ottoman
army, and promptly embraced Mohammedanism. By his extraordinary valor
and intelligence as an officer in the Sultan's service, he rose rapidly
to the command of the Turkish army. In this position he proved himself
one of the most able and active enemies the Christians had to contend
with. He caused great destruction in their ranks, because of the
knowledge he possessed of their modes of warfare. When he was engaged in
battle with the Christians, his war-cry was, "Remember Mondon!"

In the lapse of years, aggravated by the numberless onslaughts of the
Knights upon their commerce, also envying the great improvement and
manifest prosperity evinced at Malta under the management of L'Isle Adam
and his successor, La Vallette, Turkish jealousy was aroused to the
highest point of endurance. The commerce of Egypt and Syria was in
danger of annihilation. The Knights of St. John were virtual masters of
the narrow seas,--they were the "Christian" corsairs of the Levant! In
the forty-three years which had transpired since the Knights were driven
from Rhodes, the Turks had many times seen cause to regret the clemency
which had been exercised toward the Christians in allowing them to
depart from the island in peace. The Sultan's royal liberality, it must
be confessed, had been ill-rewarded. The Order of St. John had proved to
be more of a thorn in the side of the Ottoman power than when its
stronghold was on the nearer island. It is not surprising, therefore,
that the Sultan resolved again to attack the Knights in their more
recent home, and thereby not only to avenge the great losses which his
people had sustained on sea and land, but also so effectually to
demolish the power of the Knights as to disperse and break up the order
altogether. Twice the Sultan brought large, well-organized forces to
Malta for this purpose, first in 1546 and again in 1551, on both of
which occasions the Ottomans were ignominiously defeated, and as usual
with great slaughter. Their admitted losses aggregated from ten to
twelve thousand men, killed outright, on each of these occasions. Their
perseverance under such discouraging circumstances was marvelous, yet
only characteristic of the race. The Turks always fought bravely, hand
to hand, spurred on by a religious frenzy which led them to disregard
all personal danger. They had no fear of death, which to the faithful
Mussulman only signified instant transportation to the Mohammedan
paradise, with them "a consummation devoutly to be wished."

The Ottomans stormed the fortifications of the Knights at great
disadvantage. Inspired by their fanaticism, they advanced over the dead
bodies of their comrades, which formed a bridge across the deep ditch,
while the defenders were sustained by a lofty and heroic resolve to
conquer or to die. The meeting of such opponents caused blood to flow
like water, while the sacrifice of human life must have been enormous.
It was the calm, unshrinking determination of the soldiers of the cross
that rendered them so invincible, both on sea and on land, and that
insured them victory, though they were always outnumbered in every
conflict. A few score of men inspired by such a strong will as actuated
the Knights of St. John, and so well versed in the use of deadly
weapons, became a host in themselves. It was in the siege of 1551 that
the order lost one of the most active and important of its members in
the person of the Cavalier Repton, Grand Prior of England, whose prowess
as a soldier of the cross was long remembered by his brethren in arms.

This frenzy, leading to the sacrifice of one's life in the hope of
gaining Paradise, as exhibited by the Turks, seems ridiculous, no doubt,
to the average reader, but it exists to-day in various forms among
Eastern nations. The devout Hindoo solemnly believes that the shortest
road to eternal life is to be submerged in the all-cleansing, sacred
Ganges. His body is in the ordinary course burned upon its banks, while
the ashes are carefully gathered and cast into the flowing tide. So
infatuated were the pilgrims at one time, who came to Benares to bathe
in the sacred river, that the English police were obliged to use force
to prevent them from drowning themselves and their infants in these
waters. It was so with the Turks, who believed themselves to be serving
Allah and dying in his service, when they fought the Christian soldiers.
"These infidels seem to welcome death," said Grand Master La Vallette,
while at his advanced age he was wielding the deadly battle-axe upon the
ramparts during the siege of Malta.

In the two attempts upon the island in 1546 and in 1551, the Mohammedans
outnumbered the Maltese garrison ten to one. Having so often tested the
prowess of the Christians in battle, the Turks would not attack the
Knights except with a force much superior in numbers. In their most
prosperous days in Malta, the Knights proper, that is, those holding
full membership in the order, never numbered more than six or seven
hundred, but there were various grades of men-at-arms, and of trained
native Maltese, attached to the service of the Knights, thus swelling
the fighting force to a fairly effective body. Many of the Knights were
distributed over Europe, the order having "chapters," or "commanderies,"
as they were called, in France, Germany, England, Spain, and Italy, from
which the headquarters at Malta drew pecuniary support to meet all
ordinary demands upon it. But the treasury of the order was amply
supplied in reality by preying upon the commerce of the Mediterranean
between Sicily and the Levant. Occasionally, when seriously weakened by
warfare, fresh members from these European depots joined the main body
on the island for more active duty. A requisition to that effect being
issued by the Grand Master, it was responded to with alacrity by the
home members. It was a period when chivalry flourished in Europe, as we
have already indicated, when warfare against the Mohammedans was deemed
among the Christians an absolute service to God.

There was undoubtedly an _esprit de corps_ among the Knights of St.
John, which was strong enough to hold them in the ordinary bonds of
brotherhood, and to keep up the forms of their religious vows and
purposes. Yet those who knew their history at this period do not credit
them with much consistency or pious devotion to the sacred obligations
which they had voluntarily assumed. They were often anything but
harmonious among themselves, requiring the intervention of stern rules
exercised by an unquestionable authority.

While L'Isle Adam was alive, bending under the accumulated weight of
many years, and still suffering much pain from the wounds he had
received in various battles with the Turks, he was nearly disheartened
and broken down with sorrow at the growth of domestic quarrels and
jealousies among the fraternity over which he presided. In vain were all
his earnest admonitions and pacific attempts at reconciliation. The time
had come for exemplary action. He was severely just in administering the
duties of his responsible office, and was both respected and feared by
all backsliders. One cause, and perhaps the principal one, which induced
quarrels among the Knights was that of the difference of language. There
was a certain national rivalry which was ever coming to the surface, and
which proved a chronic source of trouble. This spirit finally broke
forth in open warfare, civil war, and was conducted with deadly
hostility between the several factions. Duels and personal conflicts
were of daily occurrence. It was a crisis in the history of the order,
but L'Isle Adam, notwithstanding his physical infirmities, was fully
equal to the trying occasion. He had faced the furious enemy in too many
a hard fought battle to know anything like hesitancy at a critical
moment. A brief court-martial was promptly held; the trial of the
accused Knights was short and decisive. The reckless and guilty culprits
found that they had been playing with fire. Twelve of the accused were
ordered to be stripped of their official garments and insignia, and were
ignominiously expelled from the order and the island, while an equal
number were condemned to immediate death. These last were inclosed in
canvas bags, after they had been securely bound with ropes, and, similar
to the Turkish fashion of treating unfaithful women, they were thrown
into the sea to drown! It was the iron hand of discipline, Oriental and
heathenish in the character of the punishment, but it was effective in
its results. Any halting in purpose on the part of L'Isle Adam at that
critical moment would have proved to be the death of the order. We may
be sure that there were no more attempts at civil war among the Knights.
Order was firmly reestablished. The vows of the members bound them to
the most implicit obedience. They were rebellious; they disregarded the
Grand Master's commands, and consequently they suffered condign
punishment.

A terrible example having thus been made, the members realized
thereafter both the certainty and the severity of the punishment which
awaited those who indulged a like rebellious spirit. Four years after
the settlement of the order in the island of Malta, L'Isle Adam died.
This was in 1534.

It was in 1565 that the Porte made its greatest and final effort to
capture Malta from the Knights of St. John. The Sultan determined to
crush out the life of a fraternity which for centuries had been so
persistently arrayed against his race. The immediate circumstance which
at last awakened the fury of Solyman, and brought matters to a climax,
was the capture by the Knights of a Turkish galleon, on the Ottoman
coast, richly laden, and belonging to the chief black eunuch of his
royal establishment. Enraged at this, the Sultan vowed to bring about
the destruction of his old enemies, if it cost the lives of half his
subjects. In pursuance of this resolve, after a full year occupied in
elaborate preparations, one hundred and thirty vessels, carrying about
forty thousand men, sailed from Constantinople, under command of Mustafa
Pasha, who had grown old in the wars of his country, and having been
joined by an Algerine flotilla manned by piratical crews, and led by the
notorious corsair Dragut, appeared in due form, May 18, 1565, upon the
Maltese coast. The force thus organized on the part of the Turks was one
of the most complete, in its warlike character, which had ever floated
in the eastern basin of the Mediterranean Sea. Its success seemed to be
a foregone conclusion with all except the gallant Knights themselves.

In the mean time, while this grand expedition was being organized, La
Vallette, then Grand Master of the Knights, was kept well informed of
every movement at Constantinople, and he was by no means idle. Every
exertion was made to place the island in a good condition of defense. A
general summons was issued, recalling all Knights who were absent in
Europe. A large body of infantry was raised in Sicily, two thousand men
and more, who were gradually transferred to the island. Ample quantities
of provisions, arms, and ammunition were accumulated. The native militia
enthusiastically joined the service of the Knights, and were carefully
trained to the handling of weapons preparatory to the arrival of the
enemy. Thus, when the Turks made their appearance, the Grand Master had
at his command a force of about nine thousand men, well prepared to meet
them. Nearly six hundred of this number were Knights proper, full
members of the Order of St. John. These latter had been trained from
boyhood to the use of warlike weapons, and each man was equal to a score
of ordinary soldiers, as organized in those days. Still, it must have
been an anxious occasion among the Christians and their allies, the
Maltese, especially so to those who remembered the siege of Rhodes. The
Ottomans were much more formidable now than they were then. They
conquered in 1522. Who could say what would be the result in 1565? The
Mohammedans, as usual, vastly outnumbered their opponents; indeed, it is
reported that Solyman declared: "I will send soldiers enough to walk
over the bodies of these proud Knights without unsheathing their swords
to fight." The Sultan was so confident of victory that all his
arrangements were made for the future occupancy and governorship of the
Maltese group.

The Grand Master assembled the Knights to an extraordinary meeting. He
bade them reconcile themselves with God and with each other, and then
prepare to lay down their lives, if necessary, in defense of the faith
which they had sworn to shield. All schisms were forgotten, as might
naturally be expected. The order, in face of an enemy, was as one
individual. After renewing their vows in the most solemn manner, they
joined hands and hearts in the great purpose of defense, resolving to
inflict dire destruction upon the common enemy. There was no more
jealousy or rivalry between individuals of the order, except as to which
should exhibit the greatest and most effective bravery upon the
ramparts, or on the occasion of a sortie. This spirit of chivalrous
emulation among the Knights cost the enemy daily many scores of lives.

Thus began one of the most sanguinary sieges ever recorded in history.
It lasted for nearly four months, and was characterized by unrelenting
desperation on both sides, reviving again the bloody scenes which were
enacted at Jerusalem, Acre, and Rhodes. The thirty-five years which had
transpired since the Knights took possession of Malta had been largely
devoted to strengthening their means of defense, and in supplying their
armory with the most effective death-dealing weapons. The present site
of Valletta, it should be remembered, was then simply the bare
promontory of Mount Sceberris.

The Grand Master knew every movement of the enemy, through the capable
spies whom he maintained at Constantinople, and was promptly informed by
them of the sailing of the expedition. The Christian forces, therefore,
were in no wise taken by surprise, while the Turks were amazed at the
ample preparation evinced in the manner their first onslaught was
received, and the terrible slaughter of their forces, while the cheering
battle-cry of the Knights of St. John rang ominously in their ears. They
could not have hoped to take the Christians wholly unawares, but they
had no idea that the Knights were so thoroughly prepared to receive them
with stout arms, keen-edged weapons, and an abundance of death-dealing
missiles. The invaders had brought siege artillery with them, and after
the first assault, from which they had hoped to achieve so much, but in
which they were tellingly repulsed, leaving hundreds of their best
soldiers dead in the trenches and upon the open field, they resorted to
their reserved means of offense. Some of their cannon were of such
enormous calibre as to throw stones weighing three hundred pounds. Yet
so clumsy was this primitive artillery, and so awkwardly was it served,
that it often inflicted more destruction on the Turkish gunners
themselves than on the Christians.

The struggle raged fiercely day by day, and the victims were reckoned by
hundreds among the enemy every twenty-four hours. The carnage among the
besiegers was awful. Their close ranks were mowed down by the Knights,
as grass falls before the scythe of the husbandman.

When the Ottoman soldiers came in a body, bearing scaling-ladders
wherewith to reach the top of the rampart of St. Elmo, and while they
were in the most exposed situation, sharp-cornered stones, as heavy as
two men could lift, were launched suddenly upon those ascending the
ladders, forcing them to the ground, and killing them in large numbers.
Boiling pitch was poured upon the upturned faces of the assailants,
blinding and agonizing them. Iron hoops bound with cotton thoroughly
saturated with gum and gunpowder were set on fire, and so thrown as to
encircle the heads of three or four of the enemy, binding them together
in a fiery circle which they could not extinguish, and which burned them
fatally before they reached the ground below. Many other horribly
destructive and fatal devices were adopted by the defenders, which
spread death in all directions among the Turks. When one of the enemy
succeeded in reaching the top of the ramparts, he was instantly met by a
Knight, whose keen battle-axe severed his head from the body, both head
and body tumbling back into the ditch among the assailants. Still, the
indomitable Ottomans renewed their attacks from day to day, hoping to
carry the fort at last by exhausting the physical endurance of the
defenders, though it should cost ten Mussulmans' lives for one
Christian. Each time they marched to the assault, the death-dealing
rocks, the boiling pitch, and the fiery hoops did their terrible work,
in connection with the ordinary weapons of war, in the use of which the
Knights were so expert. It is said that in the hands of a powerful man
familiar with it, no weapon is so destructive at close quarters as the
broad-bladed, keen-edged battle-axe of those days. The Orientals
depended almost solely upon their crude firearms,--the
blunderbuss,--together with their light swords and spears.

Early in the siege of which we are speaking, the commander of the
Mohammedan army resorted energetically to mining, in furtherance of
their attack upon Fort St. Elmo, but the Knights were no novices at
counter mining. On one occasion the Turkish engineers had sprung a
device of this sort so near to the defensive bastions as to make a wide
breach in the stout walls. This was not unexpected by the Knights, who
had, in fact, been on the watch for just such an opportunity. Hardly had
the shower of the debris ceased to fall, before the enemy rushed forward
to enter the fort by the newly made breach. The turbaned throng, a
thousand men and more, with waving banners and upraised swords, crowded
together upon the spot, little heeding what was to follow. And yet there
was a moment's pause, a moment of utter silence, as though those
soldiers of the crescent instinctively waited for something to happen,
they knew not what. It was like the awful stillness which precedes the
hurricane at sea. The moment this pause occurred, the Knights sprung a
well-prepared mine beneath the very feet of the densely crowded body of
the enemy, blowing nearly two thirds of their immediate assailants to
instant death! Seven hundred Turks are said to have lost their lives at
that terribly fatal explosion, as though struck by lightning. The whole
Ottoman force rapidly withdrew in utter confusion and amazement.

The moral effect of this frightful catastrophe to their army led to
quiet in the Turkish camp for several days, though it did not fail to
create among the invaders a spirit of revenge which amounted almost to
madness.

Jean de La Vallette, Grand Master of the order, was well fitted for his
position in this great emergency. He was seen everywhere, even in the
thickest of the fight, praising the valor of the Knights and leading the
most hardy. Though he was gray with age, being threescore years and ten,
still his practiced arm was stout and able to wield the terrible
battle-axe with dire effect. He had always been famous for his
expertness with this weapon. He was the _beau ideal_ of the
soldier-monk, and the true embodiment of a spirit of chivalry which was
fast passing away. At this special time his experience was of the
greatest advantage, and his judgment was always sound. Having once been
a captive among the Turks for a considerable period, he knew their mode
of warfare, and spoke their language. Though stern and inflexible in
character, and often charged with cruelty, he is represented to have
been always just, and devoutly religious. To his skill, courage, and
iron will, together with a spirit of tireless energy, more than aught
else, the Ottomans owed their final defeat. His very name has become a
synonym with the Maltese for genius, piety, and courage.

It is true that on the closing days of the siege, the Knights of St.
John were joined by long-delayed reinforcements sent from Italy, but so
far as we can discover, these fresh troops were not called upon to go
into action with the enemy. The siege was virtually already at an end
when they arrived upon the scene. The Turkish army had suffered beyond
all precedent. Three quarters of their number had laid down their lives
in this sanguinary and useless siege. The fort of St. Elmo had finally
been captured by the enemy, but forts St. Angelo and St. Michael still
remained intact. These forts were also stormed again and again, but the
now weary and disheartened Ottomans were repulsed each time with awful
slaughter. At last, when it became known that reinforcements sent to the
Knights had actually landed upon another part of the island, Mustafa
Pasha was compelled to order the galleys to prepare to sail for
Constantinople with the small and shattered remnant of his army. Further
prosecution of the siege was out of the question, and those of the
Turkish army still left alive, struck by a panic, threw away their
arms, and fled toward the galleys.

In this hasty and demoralized retreat of the enemy, the Knights saw
their chance for an effective dash; so getting a few score of cavalry
together, until now inoperative, they fell upon the rear of the fleeing
Turks and slaughtered them in large numbers, while many were driven
pellmell into the sea, where they were quickly drowned.

While the siege was in active progress, all Europe was anxiously
watching the struggle, and when it closed with such decided results, and
with the utter discomfiture of the Ottoman power, Europe rejoiced. In
Rome (as well as in many other capitals), the ancient city was
illumined, and salutes were fired from the fortress of St. Angelo, on
the banks of the Tiber, while a thanksgiving mass was celebrated in all
the churches. Pope Pius IV., as a special mark of his favor, offered La
Vallette a cardinal's hat; but the hero of Malta considered his position
far more elevated than that of a cardinal, and graciously declined the
honor.




CHAPTER XVI.

      Result of the Siege.--Native Women serving as Soldiers.--The
      Maltese Militia.--The Knights gain World-Wide Applause.--
      Rage of Sultan Solyman.--Agents of the Grand Master become
      Incendiaries.--La Vallette, Hero of the Siege.--The Order
      still Piratical.--The Turks and Knights Affiliate.--Decadence
      of the Chivalric Brotherhood.--Momentary Revival of the Old
      Spirit.--Treacherous Surrender.--French Sovereignty.--End of
      the Order.


Many interesting considerations suggest themselves in connection with
this remarkable siege. The lack of discipline which characterizes
Oriental soldiery was an element constantly operating against the
assailants. Had the siege opened on true engineering and military
principles, such an enormous and well-armed number of Turkish fighters
must have overwhelmed the Christians at the very outset. This, however,
was not the case. The siege seems to have been a series of blunders on
the part of the Ottomans from the beginning until the end, or at least
until the arrival of Admiral Dragut, who took partial command and gave
the operations the benefit of his great military experience. Henceforth
something like order and system were evolved from the utter confusion
which reigned supreme in the Turkish army.

The vast number of the Ottoman forces, compared with that of the
defenders of Malta, only served to emphasize their final and utter
defeat. True, there is a great difference between contending parties
when one is fighting in the open, while the other is protected by
well-constructed walls of stone, but the Turkish commander, though
foolhardy, was not blind, and he must have taken that into consideration
when he made his opening and reckless attack upon the stronghold of Fort
St. Elmo. It is quite possible that excessive numbers may prove an
element of disaster, under certain circumstances. This was exactly the
case in the first onslaught of the Ottomans, who came to the attack
almost in a solid body,--a mere reckless, over-confident mob,--relying
upon their numbers rather than upon any appropriate tactics. In after
assaults more discipline was adopted and observed. The forces were
divided so as to attack various points simultaneously, while a heavy
reserve was held well in hand to launch upon the point where any
temporary success disclosed a weakness in the defenses. The enemy had
learned a bitter lesson by experience; that vain, ill-conceived attack
at the opening of the siege having cost them between three and four
thousand of their best soldiers. The bodies of these men who were slain
before the stout walls of St. Elmo lay unburied for days in the trenches
and approaches to the fort, creating a terrible stench, which caused a
fever to break out in the Turkish camp, nearly as fatal to them as the
missiles and battle-axes of the Knights.

During the progress of the siege the Maltese women not only tended the
sick and wounded, but constantly served refreshments to those who could
not leave their posts of duty. They also transported the wounded upon
stretchers to the hospitals, and brought powder, shot, and rocks, to aid
the defenders upon the ramparts. Though many of them were killed and
others wounded while thus engaged, they bravely continued their
important services to the last. One historian says that twice when the
Turkish shot had cut down the red banner of St. John, with its
eight-pointed cross of white, it was a Maltese woman who instantly
rushed to the exposed point and raised it again over the ramparts, where
stout and ready hands once more secured it in position.

It is a notable circumstance that the native population, though so
clearly Arabic in their origin, manners, and customs, have never, so far
as we know, sympathized with the Mohammedans.

Further details of this memorable siege would but weary the reader.
Suffice it to say that the final defeat of the Turks showed them to have
lost, since they had landed in Malta, thirty thousand men killed,
besides hordes of wounded left unfit for future service. Of the Knights
and their auxiliaries, who aggregated, as will be remembered, about nine
thousand fighting men, only six hundred remained capable of bearing
arms! The Maltese militia, so say contemporary writers, proved to be
effective soldiers, numbering about three thousand men at the beginning
of the conflict, but they were nearly all destroyed during the
protracted siege. They were amphibious fighters, sometimes leaping into
the sea, holding their swords in their teeth, and successfully attacking
the Turks from this element in which they were so much at home. They
aided most materially in the general result, and indeed, but for their
gallant services, the Knights could not have held out to the close, when
the reinforcements arrived.

This decisive victory gained over the Ottoman power was not alone of
great significance to the Order of St. John, but it was of immense
importance to all the dwellers in the Mediterranean ports west of the
Levant, relieving the several exposed nationalities from the fear of
predatory visits of Turkish or Algerine galleys. These notorious
corsairs had for centuries made the great inland sea the terror of all
honest seamen, seriously crippling its commerce. But at the siege of St.
Elmo the most daring leader of the pirates had lost his life, and his
followers were no more to be feared, at least for a considerable period.
By their brave and successful defense of Malta, the Knights permanently
fixed the boundary of the Ottoman power, so far as regarded its possible
extension westward. Up to this time, Solyman II., like his father,
called the "Magnificent," had his eyes fixed on Europe, the eventual
conquest of which they both boldly resolved upon, but the tide of
successful warfare in that direction was now stayed. Advance upon the
Christian powers was quite impossible, while there remained upon their
flank and rear so efficient and implacable an enemy as the Knights of
Malta.

The admiration and gratitude of the Christian world at large were
manifested by liberal donations from all quarters to swell the depleted
treasury of the order, while earnest and able aspirants hastened to join
its ranks. The Knights, by their display of indomitable courage and
prowess in war, justly won the name of the heroes of Christendom. They
were men, as we have seen, of whose morality the less said the better,
but who as soldiers merited their unrivaled reputation.

The rage of Sultan Solyman at the complete defeat of his army and the
return of his unsuccessful general was terrible. He immediately resolved
to gather another army and flotilla, with which to conquer Malta, to
lead this expedition himself, and to take with him a hundred thousand
soldiers to insure victory. Preparations were accordingly begun in the
great arsenal of Constantinople by collecting arms and ammunition for
the carrying out of this purpose, especially including the storage of
large quantities of gunpowder. When this had progressed for a few
months, La Vallette was informed of the object by his well-paid spies in
the Turkish capital. The Knights could not withstand another siege.
Their ranks had been so thinned as to leave only a skeleton
organization, and the outlook for them was indeed desperate. The Grand
Master knew that he could no longer hope to oppose force to force
successfully, and that other and effective means must be promptly
adopted to <DW36> and discourage the persistent enemy. La Vallette
secretly instructed his unscrupulous spies to fire the arsenal of
Constantinople, promising a grand premium if success followed the
attempt. This was done. Large stores of powder had already been gathered
here for the expedition; and its explosion destroyed not only the
arsenal itself, with its store of arms and equipments, but also wrecked
the entire fleet, which was being equipped close at hand. The instant
destruction of human life, as well as of war materials, was enormous, so
great, in fact, that the expedition was necessarily abandoned for the
time being. The death of the Sultan of Turkey soon followed the blowing
up of the arsenal, thus preventing any renewal of the design against the
order.

The successful defense of Malta proved to be the last great feat of arms
achieved by the Knights of St. John. They had completely broken the
Ottoman power, so far as aggressive operations were concerned. There was
now no active enemy with whom they were called upon to contend. Rest and
recuperation would seem to be absolutely necessary after the terrible
strain which had been put upon their endurance; and they had most
certainly earned the right to enjoy such a respite. Of the Grand Master,
La Vallette, it is recorded that, during the heat of action, when the
Turks were storming the walls and his battle-axe was spreading death
right and left, his associate Knights besought him not to so expose his
life. It was then that he replied: "How can I, at my age of seventy-one
years, die more gloriously than in the midst of my brothers, in the
service of God, and in defense of our holy religion?" He was the
soldier-monk par excellence, possessing grand physical powers, devoutly
pious according to his creed, and a grand example of chivalry. It is not
too much to say that it was his hand that hurled back the shattered and
riven power of the Turks. Age had not withered his ambition or
enterprise. He resolved to build at once a new and thoroughly fortified
city by the shore, on the promontory of Mount Sceberris, the present
site of Valletta, and to remove the capital of the island to the coast.
The outcome of this purpose is the beautiful city which we have already
described, in the erection and fortification of which the order reached
the acme of its defensive purposes. It may be truly said that they were
at last fully prepared and able to repulse any force which could
possibly be brought against them, and the universal knowledge that this
was so prevented any further attempt at molestation.

The galleys of the Knights of St. John still roamed the seas in search
of prizes, and woe betide any craft which they encountered sailing under
the Turkish flag. It is said that a careful discrimination was not
always exercised as to the nationality of the vessels which they
attacked. Other craft than Turkish were often seized and pilfered, under
some specious pretext, especially if they were Grecian. The galleys of
that people, it must be frankly admitted, were mostly of a piratical
character.

The rapidity with which the Knights recovered from their late almost
hopeless condition was marvelous. A large and thoroughly fortified city
seemed to spring into existence as though by magic. To accomplish this,
vast sums of money were required, and the principal sovereigns of Europe
vied with each other in their gratitude, as to which should most
liberally contribute means for the use of the order in Malta. The
Valletta of our day, however, was not actually completed until some
twenty-five years later.

While Emmanuel Pinto was Grand Master of the order, in 1741, the King of
Sicily attempted to establish a claim upon these islands, and sent a
select council to preside over its government. These officials, who came
hither in great state, were summarily dismissed and sent back to Sicily
by the Grand Master. The king in retaliation closed all the ports of
Sicily against Maltese vessels. This was a serious matter to the latter,
as the group depended upon that country for a large portion of its food
supply, especially in grain. To meet this exigency, the Grand Master
entered into a treaty with the old foes of the order, namely, the Turks,
who gladly accepted a proposal which afforded them a respite from
warfare with so active an enemy, and also enabled them, for the time
being, to sell supplies to the people of the Maltese group. They joined
the Knights also in an offensive marine warfare against the Sicilians,
and soon caused the king of that country to regret the step he had taken
against the Knights of St. John. After he had lost many vessels to the
Knights and Turks combined, he humbly sued for peace, and made such
ample reparation as was demanded of him for the needless war which he
had caused.

Looking at the current of events from our own standpoint, and through
the distance of time, it would seem that the Knights must have found it
a rather uncongenial business to fight a so-called Christian power, side
by side with their life-long enemies, the infidel Turks. True, it was
but a temporary union, the object of which having been accomplished, the
old spirit of enmity between the Knights and the Ottomans was resumed,
and found expression in an immediate renewal of hostilities.

From this period the glory of the Knights of St. John seems to have
gradually waned. Their religious zeal and simplicity of living had long
since departed. Is not all growth toward ripeness also toward decay,
unless directed heavenward? There was no longer any violent opposition
to overcome by energetic action and self-abnegation, no enemy with arms
in his hands whom they must conquer. The one power whom they had always
antagonized was comparatively exhausted and undemonstrative. True
manhood feeds upon--is supported by--antagonism, and opposition is the
spur to heroic deeds. The life of constant warfare and the savage use of
arms which the Knights had so long been accustomed to quite
over-shadowed their priestly instincts, and as peace now reigned, they
sought unholy excitement in various forms, such as were ill-suited to
the vows and professions of the order. They now dwelt in sumptuous
palaces, lapsing by degrees into utter idleness and libertinism. They
had become the richest and most powerful brotherhood in the world. It is
true that the outward forms of their religion were observed with more or
less regularity, but it was an empty, heartless ceremony. The portraits,
still extant, which were painted of them at this period, show that their
dress was changed from steel armor and shirt of mail to velvet and
gold-wrought fabric, of an effeminate character. Their chivalric
impulses had departed. They gave way to the pleasures of the table and
to the demoralizing wine-cup. Those who have written of the order
understandingly as regards this period tell us that morality was at the
lowest ebb with the individual members of the fraternity. In these
latter years, joining the organization was the means of providing for a
younger brother in titled European families. The order became the resort
for libertines who had exhausted all home relations. It was not unusual
for men, however dissolute, provided they belonged to the higher ranks,
to become Knights of St. John as a final resort, after leading a godless
and criminal career.

An instance which occurred so late as 1783 is called to mind, when the
Knights, for a brief period, seemed to awaken to the old instincts and
professions of their order. It was tidings of the fearfully destructive
earthquake in Sicily, happening in that year, which so aroused the
fraternity. Manning their galleys, after they had filled them with
food, wine, and medicine, they sailed across the sea, and having landed
amid widespread desolation, they assumed the role of good Samaritans,
feeding the hungry, ministering to the sick, and smoothing the pillow of
the dying. Thus they once more revived the memory of those grand,
unselfish days at Jerusalem, when they were justly renowned and revered
as Hospitallers, living up to their vows of poverty, charity, and
chastity. This was, however, only the blazing up of dying embers, and
the order lapsed once more into luxury and decay.

The final disaster which befell the Knights of St. John, as an
organization, came through the medium of treachery, and that, too, of
the grossest description, in 1798, when Von Hompesch was the Grand
Master. This faithless man, like Bazaine at Metz, proved to be an arch
traitor to every trust that had been reposed in him, and won the
contempt of all Christendom.

Von Hompesch was a man entirely unfit for such an exigency as then
occurred. He was devoid of all firmness or decision of character, and
was, indeed, neither priest nor soldier except in name. It seems strange
that he should have been chosen to so responsible a situation by his
brotherhood, who must have known the man thoroughly. The application of
the classic saying is clear: "Whom the gods would destroy, they first
make mad." There was evidently considerable discontent under his
authority, and rebellious expressions were not wanting. At this
distance of time, and with our want of light upon the situation, no
satisfactory motive can be adduced for Von Hompesch's treachery and
general listlessness. The principal traitors who are known to have been
most active in this conspiracy, for conspiracy it was, were the Knights
of the division of Provence, Auvergne, and France, among whom liberal
pensions and rewards were freely distributed by the invaders of Malta.
It was thus that the French soldiers under Bonaparte obtained ready and
easy admittance to the almost impregnable defenses of Valletta, absolute
possession being given to them without any real or pretended fighting in
their defense. "It was well," said an officer high in command among the
invaders, "that some one was within to open the gates for us. We should
have found considerable difficulty in entering, if the place had been
entirely empty."

French gold and cunning diplomacy, not French valor, opened the way into
the well-fortified capital. Three days after the appearance of the
French fleet off the harbor, the tricolor was floating over the historic
battlements of St. Elmo. The indignation of the native Maltese was so
great at this ignominious surrender of the island to the enemy, that the
people rose in their anger and assassinated several of the most guilty
of the obnoxious members of the Order of St. John.

Bonaparte agreed, by solemn compact duly written and signed, on behalf
of his government, with the Grand Master, Von Hompesch, when he gave up
the possession of the island to him, that "the inhabitants shall be
allowed, as of old, the free exercise of the Roman Catholic religion,
their privileges and property shall remain inviolate, and they shall not
be subject to any extraordinary tax." This agreement was a mere form on
the part of the French, the pledges being all broken within one week
from the day on which they were signed.

All Europe was amazed at this blot cast upon the escutcheon of a
chivalric brotherhood like that of the Knights, whose record for loyalty
to the order and its general purposes had been so gallantly maintained,
and at such terrible cost, for so many centuries. To one who recalls the
past history of these soldier-priests, such an ending must seem almost
incredible. It is impossible not to contrast this shameful surrender
with the valorous resistance of the Knights in the terrible siege of
1565, when their blood flowed free as water to sustain the honor of
their flag, and to preserve the integrity of their order. The dying of
the Knights who formed the forlorn hope of the fort of St. Elmo, one by
one fighting at his post until he fell, is one of the grandest and most
heroic tableaux known to the annals of history.

The new masters of the Maltese at once banished the traitor Von Hompesch
from the island, and perhaps it was necessary in order to save his life,
which the native population did not hesitate to threaten openly. He
retired to Trieste, after receiving a princely fortune from France. This
was in 1799. His death occurred in 1805, at Montpellier, in the
sixty-second year of his age. He is dismissed from history, disgraced
and forgotten.

The successor of this unknightly leader of the order was the Emperor
Paul I., of Russia, who was chosen as a _dernier ressort_. He was
solemnly inaugurated, but was never more than nominally Grand Master.
His election to the office was so manifestly an incongruous act, that it
remained unrecognized. When the French established themselves in Malta,
a number of the Knights took refuge in St. Petersburg, and there elected
the emperor to the post even before Von Hompesch had formally resigned
the office. Paul made several vain attempts to reestablish the Knights,
inviting the nobility of Christendom to enlist in the ranks of the
ancient order. Success did not follow his efforts to this end.

The Knights were seen no more in Malta, though up to the arrival of the
French they had been sovereign in the islands for two hundred and
sixty-eight years. Twenty-eight successive Grand Masters had presided
over them here, from L'Isle Adam to Von Hompesch.

The new masters of Malta made themselves odious to the people of the
island by their reckless pillage and rapine, so that the French name has
ever been held in abhorrence by them. The soldiery invaded the sanctuary
of domestic life, and the honor of maid or mother was recklessly
sacrificed by brute force to their vile appetite. We have referred in
these pages to the faldetta, which is worn by the women of Malta. There
is a legend relating to this article of dress which occurs to us in this
connection. It is to the effect that after Valletta was seized by the
French troops, the women registered a solemn vow that, in memory of the
brutal treatment they had received at the hands of the licentious
soldiery, they and their descendants should for the period of one
hundred years dress in black, whenever they appeared upon the streets,
and that all should wear a distinctive hood, which is called the "hood
of shame."

The local customs of the Maltese were outraged, and the legal code
interfered with, by the French. Among other acts they abolished all
titles, altered the laws affecting the tenure of property, and demanded
that the sons of rich families should be sent to France for educational
purposes. They seemed to try to aggravate the Maltese by petty and
needless oppression, until at last, goaded beyond further endurance,
especially in matters relating to church affairs, the islanders rose in
insurrection, and were joined in their struggle by the English. The
fleet of the latter had just arrived at Malta, fresh from the victory of
Aboukir, and it heartily seconded the uprising of the Maltese against
their oppressors. Without this timely aid they could have made but a
feeble struggle for their freedom. The anger of the native population
came to a climax when the French soldiery attempted to rifle the old
cathedral at Citta Vecchia, which was held by them in such special
reverence. That ancient temple was to the masses of the islanders what
the more modern church of St. John had been to the Knights.

The French invaders were promptly driven within the walls of the
fortifications, where they were virtually held as prisoners for the
period of two years, submitting to every sort of deprivation, while
looking in vain for reinforcements and relief from the government of
France. That hoped-for assistance never came. At the close of the second
year, the French troops were absolutely starved out, and compelled to
surrender to the united English and Maltese. This was effected on
honorable terms, the garrison marching out with all the honors of war,
the whole force being transported to Marseilles at the expense of the
British government. General Vaubois, the soldierly commander whom
Bonaparte left in charge of Malta, was a brave and reliable man, and
heroically maintained his trust to the very last, when his troops were
on the verge of starvation. The English historian says, in relating the
circumstances of the surrender: "When the garrison marched out, it was
with famine proudly painted on their cheeks."

The siege was raised September 5, 1800, whereupon the English took
formal possession of Valletta, together with the entire group, and they
have retained it to the present time. They thus became the masters of
Malta, but disregarded treaty promises, and refused in 1802, as was duly
stipulated, to evacuate, and restore the islands to the Knights of St.
John. It was this which occasioned the rupture of the Peace of Amiens.
Malta was, however, finally and formally transferred to the possession
of England with the approval of the European powers, in 1814, at the
treaty of Paris.

Since the year 1798, when the Knights of St. John were expelled from
Malta, the ancient order, once so important a factor in the Christian
world, has scarcely more than existed in name, though able to point to
so proud and warlike a career, extending through a period of seven
centuries. Few dynasties of emperors or kings have lasted so long as
this famous order of warrior-monks, whose name was once the synonym for
loyalty, but whose end was brought about by treachery within its own
ranks,--an organization whose members began as paupers, but who ended as
sybarites.




CHAPTER XVII.

      Conclusion.--A Picture of Sunrise at Malta.--The Upper
      Baracca of Valletta.--A Favorite and Sightly Promenade.
      --Retrospective Flight of Fancy.--Conflict between the
      Soldiers of the Cross and the Crescent.--A Background
      Wanting.--Historical and Legendary Malta.--The Secret of
      Appreciation.--Last View of the Romantic Group.--Farewell.


Travelers in foreign lands learn to rise betimes, stealing from sleep an
hour full of intoxicating beauties. There is an interval between the
soft mellow light of the breaking day and that of sunrise, so full of
promise, of dewy fragrance, and of heavenly incense, that only poets can
truly describe it. As one stands upon the upper Baracca of Valletta and
faces the east at such a moment, the gradually advancing light seems to
melt away the darkness, while angel hands swing wide the golden gates of
day. The sky then dons its deepest blue, the encircling sea glows in
violet blushes beneath the rosy light of the dawn, while the air,
freshened by the dew, is clear and crisp even in this semi-tropical
island. At first a dim uncertainty reigns over all things, but slowly
the weird and phantom-like forms assume their real shapes. The
picturesque town, with its diversified architecture, the tall, isolated
lighthouses, the sleeping islands of Gozo and Comino, the delicate
tracery formed of the rigging of the ships in the harbor, and even the
lonely sentinels upon the battlements come out one by one in bold relief
against the background of mingled gold and silver radiance. The heedless
world still sleeps, and one cannot but feel half guilty at the
selfishness of appropriating alone such an hour of glowing inspiration,
while walking hand in hand with Nature.

The Baraccas were originally roofed, consisting of arches facing the
sea, but the wooden coverings were long since removed, and they now form
favorite promenades, open to the sky.

Yielding to the fancy of the moment, while standing upon this elevated
point, remembering the vivid historical tableaux which had been enacted
upon the landscape outspread before us, imagination peopled the scene
once more with myriads of grim, warlike, contending forces arrayed
against each other. One was closely following the standard of the
crescent, the other was ranged beneath the emblem of the
cross,--standing breast to breast, ready to meet the fierce onslaught.
The clash of arms was heard upon the ramparts, the shrill braying of
trumpets sounding the charge, and the steady roll of the drum. In fancy
we watched the hordes of frenzied Turks storming the high walls of Fort
St. Elmo, hastening up the scaling ladders by scores. We saw them
repulsed again and again by the stout arms and flashing weapons of the
gallant Knights of St. John; the ditch was piled with the lifeless
bodies of the Ottoman foe. The atmosphere trembled with the booming of
cannon, the wild shouts of the Mussulmans, the cheering battle-cry of
the Christians, and the pitiful groans of the dying, while the
surrounding waters were red with human gore. Now clouds of smoke
encompass both Turks and Christians. A mine explodes, scattering death
among the invaders. Hark! That trumpet sounds the retreat. The Ottoman
forces fall sullenly back from before the irresistible power of the
Christian arms, leaving half their brethren slain upon the ground. The
enemy goes down under the terrible sweeping blows of battle-axe and of
mace, like grass before the scythe. Loud rings the shout of victory from
the walls of St. Elmo, echoed by forts St. Angelo and St. Michael, while
deadly missiles are swiftly launched after the retreating foe.

One was fain to ask, "Is this actually the noise of contending armies,
or is it the trick of an overstimulated fancy?" Here, amid such
suggestive surroundings, how natural and real it seemed to be!

It is only as regards its great antiquity that one would contrast Malta
with our own country. What we are most deficient in is a background in
America,--a background to our national scenery, which in itself is
hardly equaled, and nowhere excelled. By the word "background" we mean
the charm of far-reaching history, legend, classic story, and memories
of bygone ages. We have no such special inspiration as is presented in
the associations of southern Europe and Asiatic localities,--the Bay of
Naples and its surroundings, for instance, or the land of Palestine.
America is still in the youth of its civilization, while in this
isolated Mediterranean group, so circumscribed in space, we have
monuments which may nearly equal the Pyramids in age. These tokens
exhibit here a tangible page of Phoenician and there of Punic history,
together with ruins of Roman and Grecian temples, besides which there
are footprints of many Asiatic tribes. How one's imagination is awakened
by the sight of these half-effaced mementos of races dead and buried so
long ago! Crumbling ruins are milestones, as it were, on the road of
time. What region would not become interesting to an appreciative
observer, under such circumstances?

Traveling and sight-seeing, let us remember, are like hospitality, the
stranger must freely contribute his share, or the result will surely be
naught. "You will find poetry nowhere, unless you bring some with you,"
says Joubert.

Our last view of the romantic group was under a sky of blue and tranquil
loveliness, bathed in a silvery sheen of moonlight, as seen across the
azure and limpid waters from the deck of a P. & O. steamship, bound
westward to England. We left the harbor of Valletta just at sunset.
While the light was fading away, that of the moon and stars was
hastening into life. The lofty ramparts overhanging the sea cast purple
shadows upon the silent surface of the water. The terraced town stood
out in strong relief, here a dome and there a tower overlooking the tall
stone warehouses, while the slender tracery of the shipping appeared
like spider's webs. The town stood there firm and stately, as though cut
out of the solid rock.

Our vessel moved at half-speed until St. Elmo was passed, and before we
had fairly laid our course for Gibraltar the clear atmosphere was filled
with the floating strains from a military band in St. George's Square. A
spirit of rest and peacefulness hung over the picturesque old city of
the Knights. Mentally we bade farewell to its curious streets, its
palaces and churches, its grim fortifications and teeming population,
its beautiful gardens and marvelous antiquities. The cool, delicious
fruits and shade of San Antonio lingered in the memory, then Malta,
Gozo, and Comino faded into a vignette, until finally the low-lying
group dipped into the blue surface of the water and was seen no more.




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Cities, Coasts, and Islands of the Maritime Provinces of Canada, and to
their Scenery and Historic Attractions; with the Gulf and River of St.
Lawrence to Quebec and Montreal; also, Newfoundland, and the Labrador
Coast. With 4 Maps and 4 Plans. 9th Edition, revised and enlarged
annually. 16mo, $1.50.

      By its intrinsic value, copiousness of information, and
      impartiality it is likely to take the place of all other
      guides or hand-books of Canada which we know of.--_Quebec
      Chronicle._

      You should take a good guide-book (Sweetser's Maritime
      Provinces is by far the best--containing _everything_ about
      the various parts of the Provinces).--_British American
      Citizen._

DICTIONARY OF BOSTON. By EDWIN M. BACON. New Edition, revised.
With Introduction by GEORGE E. ELLIS, D. D., and Map. 12mo,
flexible cloth, $1.50; boards, $1.00.

      One cannot conceive of a more handy book of its kind. For a
      long time just such a compendious volume, with just such
      concisely and authoritatively written articles, has been
      needed.... It is a cyclopaedia of the Boston of to-day,
      interesting and necessary to every Bostonian.--_Boston
      Advertiser._

BOSTON ILLUSTRATED. An Artistic and Pictorial Description of Boston and
its Surroundings. Containing full descriptions of the City and its
immediate Suburbs, Harbor, and Islands, etc., with numerous Historical
Allusions. New Edition, by EDWARD M. BACON, revised to date,
and containing additional Illustrations and Map. 12mo, paper, 50 cents.

      The aim has been to present much information in small
      compass; to make a ready reference book as well as a handy
      pocket guide.

SATCHEL GUIDE. For the Vacation Tourist in Europe. Annual Edition,
revised to date, with additions, and printed from new Plates. A compact
Itinerary of the British Isles, Belgium, and Holland, Germany and the
Rhine, Switzerland, France, Austria, and Italy. With Maps of Great
Britain and Ireland, Continental Europe, Switzerland, Street Plans of
London and Paris, Tables of the Comparative Values of United States and
European Moneys, a Traveler's Calendar of Ecclesiastical and Popular
Festivals, Fairs, etc. 16mo, roan, flexible, $1.50, _net_.

      The book is indeed a model of perspicacity and brevity; all
      the advice it gives will be found of immediate service. The
      "Satchel Guide" tells the reader _how to travel cheaply
      without a sacrifice of comfort_, and this feature of the
      book will recommend it to many tourists.--_Pall Mall
      Gazette._

      No voyager to Europe for the first time should fail to take
      the "Satchel Guide" with him.... The work stands approved by
      long experience.--_New York Evening Post._

      It will prove an invaluable companion to any one who wishes
      to travel quickly, economically, and to the best
      advantage.--_New York Tribune._

      It is the first book we should put in the hands of one going
      abroad, with an assurance that it might be implicitly
      trusted.--_Boston Transcript._


 _HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY,
 4 Park St., Boston; 11 East 17th St., New York._




    +-------------------------------------------------+
    |             Transcriber's Note:                 |
    |                                                 |
    | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the    |
    | original document have been preserved.          |
    |                                                 |
    | Typographical errors corrected in the text:     |
    |                                                 |
    | Page viii  Nesciar changed to Nasciar           |
    | Page   35  stanch changed to staunch            |
    | Page   78  Espagna changed to Spagna            |
    | Page  175  boatman changed to boatmen           |
    | Page  201  asigned changed to assigned          |
    | Page  231  Nesciar changed to Nasciar           |
    | Page  279  belligerants changed to belligerents |
    +-------------------------------------------------+






End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Malta, by Maturin M. Ballou

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