The Story of Malta

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-colored 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 début 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 façades 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 Pietà, 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.