A friend who had long resided at Malta, suggested a slight alteration in the above to—
"Adieu, ye streets of stinks and stairs!"
The reason for these wearisome steps was, I believe, owing to the following facts:—After the brave old knight, La Valette, had repulsed the Turks with great slaughter, and had consequently obtained a little breathing time, he set about re-fortifying the island and rebuilding the city, with the intention of levelling the rocky parapet for its foundation; but, owing to reports of another expedition of the Moslem being fitted out at Constantinople, for a still more powerful and revengeful attack on their fortress, the city had to be finished quickly, and so was built on the rocky slope in all haste—and hence the steep flight of steps leading up to the highest part of the city from the harbour.
Having taken breath, we move on and find ourselves in the stony narrow streets of the city, almost every other person met with being a priest or a nun, the church bells still clanging with utmost discord around. The houses, with their green painted jalousies, are all built of a kind of white limestone, and so reflect the dazzling heat and glare of the sun as to prove exceedingly painful and injurious to the eyes; hence, ophthalmia is rather prevalent at Malta. Never was there a place so priest-ridden and superstitious; everywhere in the streets, under the lamps at the corners, within niches cut in the walls, you see some painted image of a saint, bedizened with jewels, silver and gold and tinsel, grandly painted and decorated—the objects of abject adoration to the benighted poor people and other passers-by. Indeed, of late years some very serious disturbances have occurred at Malta, because our soldiers and sailors would not bow down before some superstitious priestly procession through the streets; and one feels ashamed to confess (no longer for an Englishman civis Romanus) that some of these men were punished for not doing so. Surely it should be enough that the Maltese are allowed full freedom to enjoy their own religious, or rather grossly superstitious, ceremonies!
In many of the palaces and churches in the city, there are very interesting mementoes of the gallant Knight Crusaders; and the pictures and tapestries are also very fine. Few edifices are more full of mediæval interest than the Church of St. John, with all its treasured relics of the brave, self-denying Knights of Malta. I scarcely think that we in this nineteenth century quite realize the service rendered to Christendom in their deeds of heroism and noble self-sacrifice. It was their indomitable power and courage alone, at one time and another, that prevented the Moslem from overrunning and devastating Europe and the Christian world, and the fair Mediterranean shores from becoming a prey to the hordes of merciless and cruel pirates which would have followed in their wake. One cannot look at the great forts of Malta without a glow of the deepest admiration for, and gratitude to, those valiant Knights of St. John, who held the place for so many months, all alone, against the whole power of the Moslem under the great Solyman. There at St. Elmo, a handful of brave Knights kept the army and fleets of the powerful Mustapha at bay, and hurled them back in assault after assault, the walls gaping with breaches; and then, when all had been done that brave men could do, and further resistance was hopeless, in simple obedience to the stern commands of their loved Grand-Master, La Valette, and to save the city and the other forts, these brave Knights preferred death at their posts, and that a cruel death, rather than dishonour. Wounded knights were actually wheeled on chairs to the breaches, and there died like heroes. And the Christian world, meanwhile, stood by with bated breath at such heroism, and awaiting the dreadful issue.
Then, when the victorious Moslem, mad with the blood of the St. Elmo garrison, threw their united forces against the other great forts, especially St. Angelo, where the brave Valette was in command, the gallant besieged, inspired by the undaunted courage of their chief, long resisted their impetuous assaults; and on the glorious 8th of September, 1565, compelled the shattered armies of the Turks to raise the siege (leaving twenty thousand of their dead behind), and leave them alone for ever. The Christian world once more breathed freely and was grateful. Ever afterwards—and I believe to this day—the 8th of September has been held in reverence by the Maltese, and kept almost as a sacred festival, in remembrance of their great deliverance, and of the brave Knights who fought and died so heroically.
The capital of Valetta, or rather Valette, founded in 1566, and named after the chivalrous Grand-Master, John de Valette, was subjected to such extensive and judicious improvements under the late governorship of Sir Gaspard le Marchant, as to compare with many a fine colonial city. An infinite amount of interest centres round the old Phœnician Città Vecchia, with its numerous catacombs, and the ancient palace of St. Antonio, where, within the last decade a little English princess, Victoria Melita, first saw the light. A very peculiar stone quarry-like appearance is given to Malta from the fact of its being much divided off into small gardens, surrounded by extraordinarily high and thick walls, in order to protect the valuable orange, lemon, and other numerous and varied fruit-bearing trees, from the tempestuous and destructive winds which frequently visit the island—by the name of scirocco, etc.—and from this cause little verdure can be seen until you are on a level with the plantations.
Though tradition says that most of the soil was originally brought to Malta in ship-loads, etc., from Sicily and other places, I am not very much inclined to believe it; still, there is comparatively little soil in the island, and it is therefore astonishing to see how the place abounds in vegetables and fruits, and almost every kind of flower, among which are some very rare and high order of orchids. It is said that even potatoes are exported from Malta to Greece, Turkey, and also to England, though the root was introduced into the island only forty years ago. What little land there is, is certainly marvellously cultivated, and speaks volumes for the thrifty industry of the Maltese; indeed, I have often heard that a Maltese could live luxuriously where even a canny Scotchman would starve. It is said that a greater number of people live in Malta than in the same number of square miles anywhere else in the world.
There is a fishing industry at Malta, some of the more extensive bays being completely interlaced with huge nets sunken perpendicularly. This kind of preserve extends some miles, and is, I think, used chiefly for catching the great tunny-fish. I shall not easily forget some little experience of these nets during my Naval career. Being caught in a fierce gale of wind outside Malta, we ran for a bay called Marsa Scirocco, lying on the lee side of the island, and to our great astonishment found ourselves firmly enmeshed in a gigantic net, parts of it entangling our screw propeller. Indeed, the ship could not be released until we had almost cut the net to pieces; for which our Government had to pay some hundreds of pounds sterling to the proprietors of the fish-preserve.
Vast quantities of mackerel and other fish are also caught, dried, and exported to the various adjacent Roman Catholic countries; but, I believe, excepting perhaps shellfish—prawns, lobsters, crabs, etc.—there is little or no fresh fish worth eating.