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.