Of all the little unhappy prejudices which in different parts of the
globe it has been my fortune, or rather misfortune, to witness, I
nowhere remember to have met with a deeper-rooted hatred or a more
implacable animosity than existed, some twenty or thirty years ago,
in the hearts of the Maltese towards the Turks. In all warm glowing
latitudes, human passions, good as well as bad, may be said to stand
at least at that degree which on Fahrenheit's scale would be denoted
"fever heat;" and steam itself can hardly be more different from
ice,--the Bengal tiger springing on his prey cannot form a greater
contrast to that half-frozen fisherman the white bear, as he sits on
his iceberg sucking his paws,--than are the passions of hot countries
when compared with the cold torpid feelings of the inhabitants of the
northern regions of the globe.
In all parts of the Mediterranean I found passions of all sorts very
violent, but, without any exception, that which, at the period I refer
to, stood uppermost in the scale, was bigotry. Besides the eager
character which belonged to their latitude, one might naturally expect
that the Maltese, from being islanders, would be rather more prejudiced
than their continental neighbours; however, in addition to these
causes, when I was among them, they really had good reason to dislike
the Turks, who during the time of the knights had been _ex officio_
their constant and most bitter enemies.
Whether these fine knights of Jerusalem conquered the Turks or were
defeated, the Maltese on board their galleys (like the dwarf who fought
with the giant) always suffered: besides this, their own little trading
vessels were constantly captured by the Turks, the crews being not only
maltreated and tortured, but often in cold blood cruelly massacred; in
short, if there was any bad feeling in the heart of a Maltese, which
the history of his island, as well as every bitter recollection of his
life, seemed naturally to nourish, it was an implacable hatred for the
Turks; and that this sad theory was most fully supported by the fact,
became evident the instant one observed a Maltese, on the commonest
subject, utter that hated, accursed word, _Turco_, or Turk. The sort of
petty convulsion of the mind with which this dissyllable was delivered
was really very remarkable, and the roll and flash of the eye--the
little bullying shake of the head--the slight stamp of the left
foot--and the twitch in the fingers of the right hand, reminded one for
the moment of the manner in which a French dragoon, when describing an
action, mentions that his regiment came on _sabre à la main_!--words
which, if you were to give him the universe, he could not pronounce
without grinding his teeth, much less with that cold-hearted simplicity
with which one of our soldiers would calmly say "sword in hand."
This hatred of the Maltese towards the Turks was a sort of cat and dog
picture which always attracted my notice; however, I witnessed one
example of it, on which occasion I felt very strongly it was carried
altogether beyond a joke.
One lovely morning--I remember it as if it were yesterday--there had
been a great religious festival in the island, which, as usual, had
caused a good deal of excitement, noise, and fever; and, as a nation
seldom allays its thirst without quarrelling, as soon as the hot sun
set, a great many still hotter disturbances took place. In one of
these rows, a party of Turks, justly or injustly, became offended with
the inhabitants; an affray occurred, and a Mahometan having stabbed a
Maltese, he was of course thrown into prison; and in process of time,
surrounded by a strong guard, he was led into the Maltese court to be
tried (_Anglicè_ condemned) for the offence. As he threaded his way
through the crowd which had assembled in those dirty passages and dark
chambers that led to the tribunal, the women shrunk back as the _Turco_
passed them, as if his very breath would have infected them with the
plague; while in the countenances of the men, as they leant forwards
arresting him in his progress, and almost touching him with their brown
faces, it was evident that they were all animated with but one feeling
and one desire, that is to say, hatred and revenge: however, nothing
was heard but a very slight murmur or groan, and the prisoner was soon
seen a little raised above the crowd, trembling at the bar. He was a
diminutive, mean-looking, ill-favoured little fellow, dressed in the
loose Turkish costume, with a very small dirty white turban, the folds
of which were deemed more odious to the Christian eye than if they
had been formed by the wreathing body of the serpent. While the crowd
were shouldering each other, head peeping over head, and before the
shuffling of moving feet could be silenced, avvocati, or clerks, who
sat in the small space between the prisoner and the bench, were seen
eagerly mending their pens, and they had already dipped them into ink,
and the coarse, dirty, rough-edged paper on which they were to write
was folded and placed ready in front of them, before it was possible to
commence the trial.
The court was insufferably hot, and there was such a stench of garlic
and of clothing impregnated with the stale fumes of tobacco, that
one longed almost as much as the prisoner to escape into the open
air, while the sallow faces of the avvocati, clerks, and every one
connected with the duties of the court, showed how unhealthy, as well
as offensive, was the atmosphere which they breathed. On the bench
sat what one must call the Judges, but to an English mind such a
title but ill belonged to those who had only lately been forced, most
reluctantly, to expel torture from their code. Just before Malta fell
into the hands of the French and English, my own servant, Giuseppe,
had lived in the service of one of the Maltese Judges; and among
many horrors which he often very calmly described to me (for he had
witnessed them until he had become quite accustomed to them), he told
me that he had had constantly to pass through a court in which were
those who were doomed to ride upon what was called the "cavallo di
legno," or wooden horse. With weights attached to each foot he used
to see them sitting bolt upright on this sharp narrow ridge, with two
torches burning within a few inches of their naked chests and backs, in
order that they should relieve themselves by a change of attitude no
longer than they could endure the pain of leaning against the flame.
But to return to the court.
The trial of the Turk now began, and every rigid form was most
regularly followed. The accusation was read--the story was
detailed--the Maltese witnesses in great numbers one after another
corroborated almost in the same words the same statement--several times
when the prisoner was ordered to be silent, as by some ejaculation he
interrupted the thread of the narrative, did the eyes of every being
in court flash in anger and contempt upon him, their countenances
as suddenly returning to a smile as the evidence of the witnesses
proceeded with their criminatory details. At last, the case being fully
substantiated, the culprit was called upon for his defence. Although a
poor, mean, illiterate wretch, it is possible he might have intended to
have made a kind of a sort of a speech; but when he came to the point,
his heart failed him, and his lips had only power to utter one single
word.
Regardless of the crowd, as if it had not existed, looking as if he
thought there was no object in creation but the central Judge on the
bench, he fixed his eyes for some moments upon his cold, immoveable
countenance, until overpowered by his feelings, almost sinking into the
ground, he clasped his hands, and in an agony of expression, which it
is quite impossible to describe, he asked for "MERCY!"
"_Nix standy! I don't understand ye!_" said an old English soldier
one day, in the _Bois de Boulogne_, to a French general, who, with
much gesture and grimace, was telling in French, that the English were
acting against the laws of nations in thus cutting down so beautiful
a forest as the said _Bois de Boulogne_. "_Nix standy!_" repeated
the soldier, continuing to hack with all his might at the young tree
which he had almost cut down with his sabre. The very same answer was
strongly expressed in the countenance of the Judge, to the petition
of the unhappy Turk, who, had he been in the desert of Africa, might
just as well have asked merely for the ocean, as, in a Maltese court,
to have supplicated for _mercy_. For some time the Judge sat in awful
silence--then whispered a few words to his colleagues--again all was
silent: at last, when some little forms had been observed, the Chief
Judge pronounced a sentence on the prisoner, which he might just as
well have done without his having endured the pain and anxiety of a
long trial. It is hardly worth while mentioning the sentence; for,
of course, it was that the Turco, being guilty of the murder of the
Maltese, was to be hanged by the neck till he was dead; every word of
which sentence was most ravenously devoured by the audience: and the
trial being now over, the prisoner was hurried away to his dungeon,
while the crowd eagerly rushed into the hot sunshine and open air.
A very considerable time elapsed between the sentence and the day fixed
for execution. Where the prisoner was--what were his feelings--how he
was fed--"and how he fared--no one knew, and no one cared:" however,
on the last day of his existence, I happened to be riding along Strada
Forni, when I heard a bellowing sort of a blast from a cow's horn,
which I instantly knew to be the signal that a fellow creature was
going to the gallows. In any country in the world, the monotonous moan
which proceeds from this wild uncouth instrument would be considered as
extremely harsh and disagreeable; but at Malta, where the ear has been
constantly accustomed to good Italian music, and to listen to nothing
more discordant than the lovely and love-making notes of the guitar,
this savage whoop was indescribably offensive, particularly being
accompanied by the knowledge that it was the death-march, and the dirge
of the murderer--"the knell, that summoned him to heaven or to hell!"
As I rode towards Strada Reale, the principal street of Valetta, down
which the procession was proceeding, a dismal blast from this horn was
heard about every ten seconds; and, as it sounded louder and louder, it
was evident the procession was approaching. At last, on coming to the
corner of the street, I saw the culprit advancing on his funeral car.
The streets on both sides were lined with spectators, and every window
was filled with outstretched figures and eager faces. In the middle
of Strada Reale, preceding the prisoner, were three or four mutes;
while several others were also begging in different parts of the town.
These people, who belonged to some of the principal Maltese families,
were covered from head to foot, with long loose robes of white linen,
a couple of holes being cut for their eyes. Their feet were bare, and
to each ancle was affixed a chain of such weight and length, that it
was as much as they could do to drag one leg after the other. In the
right hand they held a tin money-box, in the shape of a lantern, with
death's head and bloody bones painted upon it. A small slit in this
box received the copper contributions of the multitude; and, as these
mutes passed me in horrid triumph, shaking the box every step they took
(the rattling of the money forming a sort of savage accompaniment to
the deep clanking of their chains), they had altogether an unearthly
appearance, which certainly seemed less to belong to heaven than to
hell; however, the malefactor now approached, and as soon as he came
up to the corner of my street, I, loosening my rein, rode for a few
moments at his side, attracted by one of the strangest scenes which I
think I have ever beheld. The man was half sitting, half reclining,
on a sort of low, rattling, iron vehicle, of an indescribable shape,
which raised his head a little above the level of the people; and the
very moment I looked him in the face, much of the secret history of
what had passed since the day of his condemnation was as legible in
his countenance as if it had been written there. He had been existing
in some dark place, for his complexion was blanched by absence from
light--he had evidently been badly fed, for there was famine in his
sunken features--his nerves were gone, for he was trembling--his health
had been materially impaired, either by suffering of body or mind, for
the man was evidently extremely ill--and last, though not least, for
some mysterious reason, either from an expectation of obtaining mercy
in this world or in the next, he had evidently abjured his religion,
for his dirty white turban was gone, and, very ill at his ease, he sat,
or rather reclined, in the clothes of a Christian!
The car on which he proceeded was surrounded by an immense number of
priests, belonging to the different churches of Valetta, and apparently
to those also of all the _casals_ and villages in the island. All
angry feelings had most completely subsided; in their minds, as well
as in the minds of the people, the day was one only of triumph and
joy; and, intoxicated with the spirit of religious enthusiasm, the
priests were evidently beside themselves with joy at having succeeded
in the miraculous conversion which they had effected. Shouldering and
pushing each other with all their strength, with outstretched arms,
and earnest countenances, they were all, in different attitudes and
voices, calling upon the malefactor to repeat the name of their own
peculiar saint; some behind him were trying to attract his notice
by pulling his clothes, while those before him, by dint of voice
and gesture, were equally endeavouring to catch his eye; and such a
confused cry of "Viva San Tommaso!" "Viva San Giuseppe!" "Viva San
Giovanni!" "Viva San Paolo!" I will not pretend to describe. It was,
of course, impossible for the wretch to comply with all their noisy
demands; yet, poor fellow, he did his best; and in a low faint voice,
being dreadfully exhausted by the jolting and shaking of the carriage,
he repeated "Viva San Paolo!" &c. &c., as he caught the eye of the
different priests. He had evidently no rule in these exclamations
which he uttered, for I observed that the strong brawny-shouldered
priests who got nearest to him, often made him repeat the name of their
saints twice, before the little bandy-legged ones in the rear could
get him to mention theirs once. As this strange concert proceeded, it
was impossible to help pitying the poor culprit; for, if one had been
travelling from one magnificent palace to another, to be so jolted and
tormented both in body and mind when one was ill, would by any of us
have been termed dreadfully disagreeable; but for all this to happen
to a man just at the very moment he was going to be hanged--at that
moment of all others in which any of us would desire to be left to his
own reflections--appeared at the time to be hard indeed. After passing
under the great gate and subterraneous exit called Porta Reale, the
procession wound its way across the drawbridges, and along the deep
ditches, &c., of the fortification, until coming out upon the great
esplanade which lies between Valetta and Floriana, an immense crowd
of people was suddenly seen waiting round the gallows--at the sight
of which I pulled up. The priests were now more eager than ever in
beseeching the criminal to call upon the name of their saint;--the
mutes, whose white robes in all directions were seen scattered among
the people, were evidently shaking their boxes more violently than
ever, while among the crowd there was a general lifting of feet, which
showed the intense anxiety of their feelings.
As the procession slowly approached the gallows, I could not hear
what was going on; but in a very short time, from the distance at
which I stood, I saw the man led up the ladder by the executioner, who
continued always a step or two above him: the rope was round his neck,
and resting loosely on the culprit's head, there was something like
a round wooden plate, through a hole in the centre of which the rope
passed. As soon as the poor creature got high up on the ladder, the
vociferations of the priests suddenly ceased; for a few seconds a dead
silence ensued, when all of a sudden, there was a simultaneous burst or
shriek of exclamation from priests and populace, echoing and re-echoing
the words "Viva la Cristianità!" which the man, in a low tone of voice,
had just been persuaded to utter. All caps waved--every human being
seemed congratulating each other on the delightful conversion; and
no person seemed to pay the slightest possible attention to the poor
wretch, who, with the last syllable on his lips, had been pushed off
the ladder, and was now calmly swinging in the air, the executioner
standing on the loose wooden plate above his head, holding by the
rope, and, with many antics, stamping with all his force to break the
neck, while the people, in groups, were already bending their steps
homewards. Not wishing to encounter such a crowd, I turned my horse in
another direction, and passed a number of mules and asses belonging to
many of the people who had come from the most remote casals to see the
execution. The animals were all standing half asleep, nodding their
heads in the sun--a herd of goats were as quietly grazing near the
ramparts; and when I contrasted the tranquillity which these animals
were enjoying, with the scene I had just witnessed, I could not help
feeling that I had more cause than Virgil to exclaim--"_Sic vos non
vobis!_"
In returning from my ride I had to cross the esplanade, and as there
was then no one at the gallows, I rode close by it. The figure, which
was still hanging, was turning round very slowly, as if it were
roasting before the sun; the neck was so completely disjointed that
the head almost hung downwards, and as I rode by it I was much struck
in observing that the tongue was out of the mouth half bitten off--a
dreadful emblem, thought I, of a renegade to his religion! Whether or
not the poor wretch had been induced to utter his last exclamation,
from a hollow promise that it would save his life, is a mystery which
will probably never on this earth be explained to us; however, whatever
was his creed, it is impossible to deny that when he swung from this
world to eternity, he had but little reason to admire the practical
part of a Roman Catholic's mercy, however unanswerably its theory might
have been explained to him.
As soon as I got to Valetta, I put up my horse, and, strolling about
the streets, soon found myself in the immense church of St. John,
which, in point of size and magnificence, is only second in the world
to St. Peter's, at Rome. The congregation was almost exclusively
composed of the people who had attended the execution, and quantities
of men, as well as women, shrouded in their black silk faldettes, were
listening to a tall, strong-looking Capuchin friar, who, with great
emphasis, was preaching from a high pulpit, placed at a projecting
angle of one of the many chapels which ramified from the aisle or great
body of the church. He was a remarkably handsome man, of about thirty,
and though his face was pale, or rather brown, yet his eye and features
were strikingly vivid and intellectual; a rim or band of jet-black
hair encircled his head, the rest of his hair by a double tonsure
having been shaved at the top and from ear to ear; his throat was
completely uncovered, and as he suddenly turned from one part of his
congregation to another, his earnest attitudes were very beautiful. His
brown sackcloth cowl hung in folds over his shoulders, and the loose
negligent manner in which a cloak of the same coarse material hung upon
his body, being apparently merely kept together by the white rope, or
whip of knots, which encircled his waist, displayed a series of lines
which any painter might well have copied; indeed, the whole dress of
the Capuchins has been admirably well imagined, and above all others is
it calculated to impress upon the mind of the spectator that its wearer
is a man doomed to abstinence and mortification, seeking no enjoyment
on this side of the grave, and never lowering his eyes from heaven, but
fervently to exclaim--
"Vain pomp and glory of the world, I hate ye!"
The subject of the sermon was, of course, the execution which we had
all witnessed. The hard-hearted infidelity of the Turks was very richly
painted and described, and the crime which they had just seen expiated
was clearly proved to be the effect, and the natural effect, of a
Mahometan's anger. The happy conversion of the infidel then became a
subject which was listened to with the most remarkable stillness, and
every eye was riveted upon the mouth of the Capuchin, as he minutely
detailed the triumph and the conquest which had been made of the sheep
which had that day, before their eyes, been added to the flock. He
then explained, or endeavoured to explain (for it was no very easy
task), that the money which had that morning been collected for the
purchase of masses proved to be just sufficient to purify the soul of
the departed sinner; but this, he very eloquently demonstrated, was
only to be effected through the mediation of one whose image nailed to
the cross was actually erected in the pulpit on his right hand. After
expatiating on this subject at considerable length, working himself
and his hearers into a state of very great excitement, with both his
arms stretched out, with his eyes uplifted, he most fervently addressed
the figure, exclaiming in a most emphatic tone of voice--"_Si! mio
caro Signore! Si!_" &c. The effect which was instantly produced in the
hearts of his hearers was very evident, and the fine melodious voice,
together with the strong, nervous, muscular attitude of the preacher,
contrasted with the drooping, exhausted, lifeless image above him,
would have worked its effect upon the mind of any Christian spectator.
As soon as the sermon was over, the congregation dispersed. The day
ended in universal joy and festivity; no revengeful recollections--no
unkind feelings were entertained towards him who had been the principal
actor of that day; on the contrary, the Maltese seemed rather to feel,
that it was to him they were especially indebted for the pleasurable
performances they had witnessed, and thus--
"In peaceful merriment ran down the sun's declining ray."