Maltese society is very proud and exclusive, and dreadfully reserved and jealous of the English community; indeed, little or no sympathy exists between them, which is much to be regretted. The nobility, so-called, are seemingly content to live almost to themselves, as it were in the past, amongst their ancient ancestry (putting one in mind of Mr. and Mrs. German Reed's entertainment of "Ages Ago") rather than in the present and with the people surrounding them. They are reputed to be excessively mean and close, but perhaps they have but a scanty allowance to support their nobility, and therefore, by necessity, it is half starved. A friend who has resided at Malta many years, related to me a little incident of his own experience. For once breaking through their usual reserve, an Englishman was invited to the funeral of one of the Maltese nobility; when, in accordance with the usual rites, a candle or taper is provided by the mourners, which is generally carried home by each as a memento, and perhaps as possessing some virtue from the priestly blessing. But the day after the funeral, much to his surprise and disgust, having simply taken it as a mark of respect to the family, he was requested to return the said candle, "which had only been lent to him."
There is, however, apart from the Maltese element, plenty of society at Malta, amongst the English community, governor, and Naval and Military officers. Indeed, in the season it is rather a gay place. There is, or used to be, a very good little opera-house, where some of the most eminent prima donnas (Spamezi and Pareppa, etc.) made their debût; for the society at Malta is supposed to constitute rather a critical audience; and if an artiste once succeeds in winning its approval, she may go to England without fear and trembling.
Malta is, I believe, considered one of the most favoured of health resorts (especially since our good Queen Adelaide resided there), and particularly for chest complaints. But, from my own experience and that of many others (Europeans) who have resided there a long time, I can scarcely reconcile this to fact. It is exceedingly hot and oppressive in summer, the glare from the rocks and stone buildings being very injurious to the eyes, and the heat retained by the limestone during the day making the houses very close and sultry in the night. Towards autumn and winter there are violent atmospheric changes, and it would appear that the spring-time of the year and early autumn are really the only seasons in which the weather is agreeable.
I remember about December, in the year 1855, after returning from the Crimean War, being a whole fortnight in a dreadful gale and hurricane outside Malta. There was a tremendous sea, sometimes vivid forked lightning, thunder, and heavy rains, the skies as black as ink. Indeed, it was a grand and extraordinary scene, the sea in a wild and curious commotion, rearing up around us as it were in little mountains, and breaking in upon us in all directions,—washing away some of our boats, and tumbling the vessel about in a most eccentric and exceedingly uncomfortable manner, almost as if the bottom of the sea were sinking beneath us. One night was particularly dreadful and awfully grand; the forked lightning cutting the black clouds asunder, the winds howling terribly, and occasionally an outburst of flame,—or rather the reflection of it, from the far-distant Mount Etna splendidly lighting up for a moment the black sky. It was a strange and wonderful sight, bringing home to me the truth of the Psalmist's words, "They that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business in great waters; these men see the works of the Lord and His wonders in the deep," etc.
Having at last put safely into Malta, we were not much surprised to hear that while we were at sea there had been violent earthquakes felt at Malta, and nearly all round the Mediterranean. At Malta there was great consternation; the houses were almost rocking, the church bells clanging to drive away the supposed evil spirit, and the people sitting up with lighted tapers.
As regards the reputed healthfulness of Malta, I think it is a mistake, for I believe the sanitary arrangement and sewerage system are extremely faulty, especially in the old part of the city, where the wells are absolutely contaminated and unsafe to use without boiling and filtering the water. There is also a kind of bad and dangerous intermittent fever at Malta, like that at Gibraltar—endemic, I should think. My wife has recently lost a very dear sister (who resided in this island), chiefly, I believe, from these last two causes, and hence I speak rather earnestly on the subject.
Altogether, what with fever, ophthalmia, etc., one can scarcely call Malta a healthy place. The fact is, in that latitude, with so over-crowded a population, the natives most unclean in their habits, and with faulty and inadequate sewerage system, one could not expect otherwise.
In February, March, and a part of April, when my wife was there, the weather was unsettled, stormy, and cold nearly all the time.
Strada Reale, where the great public square and governor's palace are, I believe, is (or used to be) the principal street, and the shops there are very attractive, especially the jewellers', with their exquisite silver and gold filagree work; and also the places where the beautiful Maltese lace is sold. Strada Zecca, a peaceful, shady, and silent retreat, used to be the street of the Government offices; and we see here many of the old palaces and houses of the Knight Crusaders, some of which are rather peculiarly constructed inside. There are the overhanging shading roofs, as at Genoa and other places; but the Knights, not being permitted to marry, had no families, and so did not require many sleeping-rooms: therefore, in most of the houses of Valetta the reception-rooms and courts are spacious, lofty, and handsomely decorated, and occupy by far the larger portion of the building, while the sleeping-rooms are narrow, confined, and limited in extent.
Sliema and St. Julian's Bays, three or four miles off, are the little Brightons of Malta, whence the residents change the sultry heats of the city for the cool and refreshing sea breezes, healthful sea-bathing, and something in the shape of verdure and green fields. These places, St. Paul's Bay, and the adjacent Island of Gozo, are the chief resorts for excursions, picnics, etc. At Valetta nearly the only country walk used to be to the (so-called) Gardens of St. Antonio; and it was rather melancholy to see the stream of poor human beings almost confined to this one walk, like invalids at some water-drinking health resort, or a moving mass of regimental ants.