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. Themen 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 Babamight 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.
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.
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.
Nearly every locality which is visited by travelers is found to have some special annoyance which is active in its warfare upon humanity. Thus diseases of the eye prevail among the common people of Malta as they do in Egypt, a trouble in both countries which is caused by the fervor of the sun's rays and the general lack of shade, not forgetting also an evident want of cleanliness. The author has seen native camel-drivers come into Egyptian cities from across the desert quite blind for the time being from continuous exposure to the sun's rays and the powerful reflection of the heated sand. The same effect arises from the yellow stone dwellings of Valletta, and the bare rocks inland aggravate the prevailing trouble. So Arctic explorers, living amid the constant glare of the snow-fields, are subject to ophthalmia, an affliction which they guard against by wearing snow-goggles. In the Maltese capital, as in Cairo, there is a fine dust permeating the atmosphere when the wind blows, chargedwith silex and animal impurities, which finds lodgment in the eyes. The ordinary people have no predilection for the use of water wherewith to cleanse their hands and faces, consequently such matter accumulates in these delicate organs, first irritating, then poisoning them. Ulceration follows, and insects—especially flies, which are a great pest in Malta—carry the virus from one person to another, creating, in warm weather, an epidemic of sore eyes. Children are most frequently the sufferers; and this disease, commencing with them when they are of tender age, is liable to become chronic.
Nine tenths of the inhabitants of the group are professed Roman Catholics. One meets a priest or cowled monk at every turn in the public streets, as well as upon the roads inland. They usually wear a characteristic black robe, together with an impossible hat, very broad of brim and turned up at the sides. There are said to be about two thousand priests in these islands, whose physical appearance certainly indicates free and generous diet, not to say luxurious living. The reader may imagine what a strong contrast they furnish to the hungry, begging masses of the town whom they pass by with the most utter indifference. One is fain to ask, Does it ever strike the people, who are taxed so heavily to support these "walking delegates" of the church in idleness, that there must be something radically wrong in a system which fattens a priest by starving a laborer? The conduct of church affairs should be just as amenableto consistency and sound common sense as any of the affairs of life. The Maltese, unfortunately, have a paucity of reason and a plethora of priests.
Flowers are abundant in Valletta, and, as already intimated, are marvelously cheap and beautiful, thus arguing a certain degree of public taste and refinement in the community, which makes it profitable to raise them. "That man cannot be mean and deceitful," said a shrewd, cultured woman, and a good judge of human nature, "he is so fond and careful of flowers." Seeing a bouquet prettily backed with maidenhair fern, we asked if it was cultivated here, and were told that the plant grew wild in some of the caves of Comino, near at hand. In the environs of the capital there is a hamlet named Casal Attard, that is, "the village of roses;" there is also a Casal Luca, "the village of poplars;" and still another, Casal Zebbug, signifying, "the village of olives;" a simple but very appropriate system of nomenclature. Casal Luca is mostly inhabited by stone masons and quarrymen; indeed, the whole district about the hamlet is one large quarry. The church in this thrifty village contains three admirable and well-remembered paintings by that illustrious artist, Mattia Preti.
There are twenty-six small casals in Malta proper, the larger number of which are on the eastern end of the island, and all of them are very much alike. They are divided by narrow streets, designed to exclude the powerful rays of the summer sun, while the low stone houses are full to repletion of childrenand Arabic-speaking people with Oriental proclivities. Though there are beggars by the score along the roads and in the villages, there are no other obvious tokens of poverty. Indeed, there is a general appearance of thrift. It is in populous centres, in large cities, that real want and hunger are mostly suffered, where from force of circumstances the multitude of people cease to be producers, but are still consumers. Each of these casals has its school, wherein, it is said, the government tries to introduce the English language, but it would seem with indifferent success. Those who are sovereign here appear to be too indifferent in this matter. There is a well-organized college at Valletta, where degrees are conferred in divinity, law, and physic. To our inquiry of an intelligent citizen touching this subject, he promptly replied: "Education in Malta is cheap, bad, and neglected." This is only too true, though all the civilized world admits it to be the great and most effective weapon of Christianity and progress. The most effective missionary who can be dispatched to foreign lands is the competent school-teacher. Tenets of faith will adjust themselves in accordance with reason, among those who are rendered sufficiently intelligent to think for themselves. The ignorance of a large portion of the Maltese villagers is absolutely deplorable. They have no recognized language in literature; and if they had, they could neither read nor write it. They are quite uninformed even upon the most common current events. An English gentleman (Mr. Seddall), who lived someyears at Malta, declared that they were not a whit better educated than the Bedouin Arabs. As a conclusive evidence of this, he tells us in print: "A laboring man once informed me that the Sultan was the supreme ruler of the island." The same author says: "The priests oppose all enlightenment of the masses." This is not anything new, as it is their known and admitted policy everywhere; but in the multitude of witnesses we arrive at the truth.
The school system of Valletta was reorganized a few years ago, but it is still far behind the general progressive ideas of our times. Education is not compulsory here.
The popular entertainments of a people form a good criterion for judgment as to their general character. The amusement which seems to be most generally resorted to in Malta is that of parading through the streets in a special garb, while displaying various banners in celebration of certain church festivals. As in the ritual of the Roman Catholic Church there are some two hundred such days in the year marked for similar displays, the festivities of this sort appear to be chronic, and absolutely pall upon one. The natives are inclined also to make these occasions an excuse for undue indulgences, and carelessness of conduct generally. The Carnival is also made much of by the common people, and indeed it would seem that all classes participate. It begins on the Sunday preceding Lent and lasts three days, during which period the populace engage, to the exclusion of nearly allother occupations, in a sort of good-natured riot, not always harmless. The most ludicrous and extravagant conduct prevails, the actors being generally masked and otherwise disguised. Hardly anything that occurs and which is designed only for diversion, and not instigated by malice, is too absurd for forgiveness. Ladies are ready to engage in a battle royal from their balconies, using confetti, dried peas, beans, and flowers, which they merrily shower upon the passers-by with all possible force. Sometimes, but this is not often, unpleasant missiles are employed and serious quarrels ensue. The day after the close of the Carnival, those who have taken any extravagant part in the revels, or who have been over self-indulgent, repair to the small church of Casal Zabbar, called Della Grazia, where they humble themselves by way of penance for their follies and excesses. It must be admitted that under shelter of the large liberty which the occasion of the Carnival renders possible, many otherwise quite inadmissible acts are perpetrated, and that as a whole this peculiar celebration is terribly demoralizing to all classes of the community.
A story of a tragic character is told, having a sad local interest, and which was a natural outcome of the carnival season. It happened not long ago. On the last day of the revels, when extravagance of costume and conduct had reached its climax, when the actors strove to so carefully disguise themselves as to render discovery impossible, a certain popular beauty of the humble class was being pursued,complimented, and plied with bonbons by a masked individual, to the great, disgust and annoyance of a youth who was her acknowledged lover. It seems that the conspicuous attention thus bestowed by a new aspirant for her favor was not entirely displeasing to the youthful beauty. The fact that her accepted lover evinced great jealousy at this condition of affairs seemed to spur on both the girl and her newly devoted companion. At last, jealousy so wrought upon the passion of the neglected lover that, seizing a favorable moment for his purpose, he plunged his knife to the hilt in the breast of the unknown rival. The wounded man fell to the ground, bathed in his own blood, and his mask was promptly removed to give him breathing space. He who had given the fatal blow escaped. To the amazement of all, the dying youth was recognized as the girl's own brother, who was merely enacting a Carnival deception. The man who dealt the murderous blow has never since been heard from, but the broken-hearted girl, who was by no means blameless, soon entered a convent and donned the irrevocable veil.
Once since the English held possession here, a Scotchman was sent to Malta as governor, a devout Presbyterian, who conscientiously endeavored to abolish the noisy celebration of the Carnival on the Sabbath. This so angered the people that it very nearly led to an open and general rebellion against English rule. The occasion was not without bloodshed, though the governor did not push matters toextremes. Their parishioners were secretly spurred on by the priesthood, who were only too happy to find an opportunity to make trouble for the Protestants.
Some of those who read these pages will doubtless remember the Carnival as it occurred annually in the principal cities of Italy a few years ago, in Venice, Naples, Milan, and Rome, but more particularly in the last named capital. The Italian populace would no more be content without the annual Carnival than the Spaniards would without their cruel bullfights. The difference between these nationalities is clearly evinced in these two exhibitions. The Italians are passionate and quick to quarrel, but as a rule they are not cruel, a trait which is, however, wrought into the very web and woof of Spanish character.
The Roman Corso is vividly recalled by the mere mention of the Carnival, a specially Italian celebration. Through that narrow thoroughfare the spirited and riderless horses, clad in barbed trappings which spurred them at every leap, rushed at wild speed until brought to a sudden halt by the heavy ropes stretched across the entrance of the Piazza del Popolo. In a similar manner, on high festive occasions the Strada Reale of Valletta was turned into a racecourse, though it is by no means level, like the Roman Corso. Intoxicated with mirth, frolic, and mischief, the motley Roman crowd, the better class of whom, men and women, wear masks, filled the atmosphere of the Piazza di Spagna with ribald songs and laughter. The streets which lead into and out of this centralsquare were crowded with hilarious people dressed in caricature, all busily engaged in practical jokes and mimic warfare. Harlequins, gods and goddesses, clowns, spirits of good and evil, all were represented. Priests and peasants were depicted with their several belongings, together with members of the learned professions. Those who assumed these characters strove to be ludicrously consistent therewith. Foreign lookers-on sometimes mingled with the crowd, from which they were only too glad to escape after being decorated with mud, and having their tall hats driven down over their eyes and their coats turned inside out! To the crowd it was fun, but it was anything but amusing to the victims. Three days and nights of this pandemonium ended the mad frolic. To-day, in Rome as in Malta, the Carnival is losing its popular interest. Horses no longer rush furiously through the Corso, and there are but few maskers on the streets. The occasion is not forgotten in Milan, Florence, or Turin. It still lingers with some of its pristine extravagance in Venice, but its "glory" has departed.
The reader will perhaps sympathize with the exuberant memory of the writer, when it breaks forth for a moment recalling these vivid scenes of past experience.
Let us return once more to Valletta.
The British government seems willing not to interfere to any considerable extent in the domestic or religious affairs of the islands. An unequaled militaryand naval station is secured to England in the Mediterranean, that is the main point. The loyalty of the people to the British Queen is quite a secondary consideration. Were the Maltese to break out in a rebellious mood, they would be instantly and ruthlessly crushed. Their position would be in no way improved. The privileges which they enjoy would be greatly curtailed, and their political condition would assimilate to that of the subjected and down-trodden tribes of India. As we have said, there is no direct taxation imposed upon the Maltese. The rents of the government lands, together with customs, licenses, etc., bring in an annual revenue of about two hundred and sixty thousand pounds sterling, which is calculated to be quite sufficient. Malta is considered to be self-supporting, in the political acceptation of the term, so far as England is concerned. In fact, a small balance appears on the right side of the account toward the support of the large military organization held here in reserve at all times, and from which, in case of an emergency, she could draw for service elsewhere. Gibraltar, Malta, and Aden, the latter at the mouth of the Red Sea, form important links in the chain of British outposts guarding the route to her possessions in India. During the ninety-two years of English occupancy, the group has steadily increased in population, wealth, and productiveness. Were England to give up Malta, it would under some specious pretext fall into the hands of Germany, France, Italy, or Russia. It is far too insignificant in itself to maintain itsindependence, and too important in its strategic position not to be controlled by some one of the great nations.
As regards the code of laws recognized by the local courts, in conversation with a native advocate it was found that that of Malta was of a very confused character. These laws are based upon old Roman legislation, amended by ecclesiastical enactments brought hither by the Knights, and fortified by provisionary regulations issued by the several Grand Masters, and designed to meet special cases. The system is, indeed, a standing puzzle to the judges themselves. However, as the Maltese are not a contentious people, but on the contrary are most docile and easily governed, the authorities find no great stumbling-block in the legal code. When in doubt, they have always English common law to fall back upon, and being masters of the position, there is no appeal from the decisions rendered by the English judges. Here as elsewhere, litigation is an expensive luxury, in which only those with full purses can indulge. The petty courts are quite sufficient to keep the masses of the people in proper discipline. The large garrison constitutes the most restless element, but as its members are amenable to martial law, which is always prompt and decisive, good order is easily preserved. Trial by jury has been applied to all crimes since 1855. It was first introduced in certain criminal cases as early as 1829, but its scope was extended in 1844, and as we have said, it now applies to crimes of whatever nature.
The governor's summer palace is situated at Casal Lia,—known as San Antonio,—about five miles from the city, where the chief official makes his home during a portion of the year. The incumbent of the office at this writing is General Sir Henry Augustus Smyth, who receives a salary of twenty-five thousand dollars per annum. Sir Henry is also commander-in-chief of the troops stationed at Malta. San Antonio is on the road from Valletta to Città Vecchia, just before one reaches Casal Attard,—"the village of roses," with its fine old stone church. The "palace," as it is called at San Antonio, is spacious and handsome. Though it is quite plain architecturally, the surroundings are very beautiful, consisting of extensive gardens, artificial ponds, musical fountains, and myriads of thrifty fruit trees, the latter laden with blossoms or golden fruit, such as oranges, lemons, pomegranates, citrons, figs, and limes. The terraced grounds are connected by easy stone steps, inviting the visitor to ramble in all directions. A superficial view of the group gives no promise of such a lovely spot of ground, borrowed, it would almost seem, from fairy-land, or, as the Moors were wont to say of Andalusia, "a favored region dropped from Paradise." Gorgeous butterflies, fragrant geraniums, scarlet and purple verbenas, graceful lindens, glutinous honeysuckles, and ever-fragrant roses, all combined to attract the eye and delight the senses. One is reminded of the low lands of Florida and Louisiana, where the air at certain seasons is heavily ladenwith the perfume of the lotus-like magnolia, empress of the everglades. Very enchanting were the hours passed at San Antonio, beneath its cool green shades. One can never forget how brilliant was the floral display, how soft the atmosphere, and how glorious the sunshine.
Maltese gardeners understand their business, in the various combinations of which a tangible poem may be written by one loving his calling and with a genius for floriculture. Great care is taken as regards the fitness of one color or form placed in juxtaposition with another; a group of ornamental trees harmonizes with its surroundings, and even the fruits are classified with an eye to their fitness for companionship. An inartistic arrangement in a garden will jar upon the eye of a critical observer, even as the ear is shocked by a discord in music. It has been finely said: "To cultivate a garden is to walk with God, to go hand in hand with Nature in some of her most beautiful processes, and to learn something of her choicest secrets."
"How much is paid for the services of a capable gardener here?" we asked of the guide.
"About two shillings per day. How much is paid in America?" he inquired.
"Not less than ten shillings," was our answer.
The incredulity of the guide was written upon his countenance, but he made no reply.
The grounds of San Antonio, like all garden plats in Malta, are protected by high stone walls. Here,they reach upward eighteen or twenty feet, above which, here and there, a few towering dark green cypress-trees are seen, standing like watchful sentinels guarding the palace grounds. The large number of productive orange-trees makes the place like a garden of Hesperides. The Knights of old—this having been the summer residence of the former Grand Masters—are said to have realized a large income from the sale of the fruit ripened in these grounds. The orange grove contains over three thousand trees, which would excite the envy of a successful Florida cultivator by their thriftiness. In a favorite corner were some specimens of the evergreen loquat; its long, overshadowing leaves and peculiar yellow fruit reminded one of the attractive gardens of Hong Kong. At this season fine, luscious oranges sell in the market of Valletta at twelve or fifteen cents per dozen, while large quantities are packed and exported, realizing profitable returns. The royal family of England has a regular supply of this fruit forwarded from these islands, especially the fragrant and luscious tangerine, or mandarin species, which lies so loosely within its crumpled skin as to require only a touch to remove it. The natural covering of this orange is full of a highly concentrated and richly flavored oil, whence a superior perfume is produced, and also a flavoring extract. The fruits of Malta, being grown on an arid soil, are more juicy and savory than is usual in tropical regions, where they develop to an abnormal size, and where, if the soil is too rich, the pulp becomes spongy.
San Antonio is one of the loveliest and greenest spots on the island. The view of the sea, city, and harbor from some of the elevated points of the gardens is charming. Here the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh resided for a considerable time, and here one of their children, Princess Victoria Melita, was born, in 1877. She is said to be the only British princess ever born in a foreign dependency of England.
The fee of the property of San Antonio is in the British government, having passed into its possession by right of conquest, like all other property formerly belonging to the Order of St. John in these islands. Pleasure unalloyed is not to be found on the earth. That we are in terrestrial regions, and not in Paradise, is made clearly manifest not only in this fruitful garden, but also in some decided form wherever we seek enjoyment. The prominent objection to this beautiful location is the maddening discomfort of flies and mosquitoes, for the place swarms with them during four months of the year. It is a happy provision of nature that we remember best the pleasures of our experiences in foreign travel, and soon lose the recollection of the annoyances which we encounter. One can dismiss the mosquito pest; but as we write these lines there comes back to us, like a half-forgotten strain of music, the recollection of sweet-smelling syringas, lilacs, and lemon verbena, mingled with the all-pervading Maltese orange blossoms. Taken as a whole, San Antonio is a perfect Gan-Eden, a gardenof delights in which to linger and to dream, forming a sort of fairy world, peopled with blossoms, where wood-nymphs might hold their moonlight revels.
This is very pleasant to relate and to remember; it is enchanting for the time being, and puts one at peace with all human nature; but as we have just illustrated, in the instance of San Antonio, there is always a reverse side to the picture.
Let us glance for a moment at the every-day street life of the Maltese capital.
The observant stranger is struck with sadness upon first landing in Valletta at sight of the swarming hordes of the unemployed who throng the shore and some of the public squares of the city. He sees before him an ignorant, hopeless, poor, hungry mass of humanity, and wonders where these people can obtain sufficient bread to keep them from starving. The manifest poverty of the prolific lower classes of Malta is appalling to the political economist. Who would dare to sound the depth of this sea of human want and misery, the daily lot of these hordes of half-fed men? While looking upon such a scene, a resident with whom we were in company was asked: "Where can this army of poor, portionless creatures bestow themselves at night?" The reply was brief and significant: "They have always the sky over them!" Doubtless a large percentage of these people sleep on the bare ground, or rather on the flat stones leading up the lateral streets, with a step for a pillow, like homeless dogs, wherever drowsiness overtakes them.Fortunately, in this climate the poor do not suffer from cold under any ordinary circumstances. We were told by our companion that many of these lazzaroni were heedless rogues and professional thieves, without the least moral sense of right and wrong. Who can be surprised at the dishonesty of such poor, ignorant creatures?Isit dishonesty, this feverish, irregular, desperate struggle for existence? Must not food be had at any cost? Ah, the great social problem of dire poverty and purse-proud wealth, this startling inequality of possession and position, this paucity of sustenance on the one hand and plethora of means on the other, which presents itself in every populous community all over the globe!
It is to sever the Gordian knot of this confusing problem that the half-crazy, drinking socialist, the wholly reckless, unreasoning nihilist, resorts to the sword and the fulminating bomb. Far be it from us to sympathize with such disciples of anarchy; we only present facts to the mind of the thoughtful reader. Every one admits the incongruity of the situation. Many worthy persons give way to a false spirit of philanthropy in connection with it. One thing is certain,—the means adopted by these irresponsible agitators, socialist or nihilist, will never remedy, but only augment the difficulty.
There are many rich people in Malta, while the churches—supposed emblems of charity, peace, and good-will towards men—are uselessly decorated with gold and silver candlesticks, precious stones, costlymarbles, valuable tapestry, and priceless works of art, articles as foreign to any true principle of devotion as snow is to the vegetation of the tropics. No one can travel in Spain, Italy, Mexico, or South America—all Roman Catholic countries—without being brought face to face with a similar state of affairs: costly cathedrals and churches crowded with gorgeous display, upon which gold has been recklessly lavished in all possible ways, often surrounded by a ragged and starving populace steeped in ignorance. Is there any amount of sophistry which can reconcile such incongruities?
On coming out of the magnificently adorned Cathedral of Guadalupe, situated a league from the City of Mexico, not long since, the author was literally dazed by the strong contrast which presented itself. Passing by a dozen steps from within this rich and gorgeous temple, upon which millions of dollars had been lavished, into an atmosphere of the most abject poverty and dismal want was like changing from brightest sunshine into the valley and shadow of death. A half-naked, starving army of beggars—men, women, and children—stared one in the face, their cadaverous features and attenuated forms, all too clearly defined, appealing for them with more eloquence than words could do. What sort of religion is that which can hoard jewels of fabulous value, together with plate of gold and silver, in its churches, while the poor, crippled, naked multitude starve outside of its towering and gilded walls?
The sense of outraged humanity was too strong for words. Even the sleek, well-fed priest, who had acted the part of guide through the church, looked abashed as we pointed to this tableau of misery, and then reproachfully at the gorgeously appointed temple whose portal we had just left behind.
How forcibly that Mexican scene is recalled while we write these lines. At each of the two corners of the plaza nearest to the cathedral stood a native woman beside a large receptacle of corn meal, from which, by adding a little water and salt, she was making what is here called polenta, or dough cakes, which she fried in small slices over a charcoal fire. Of this plain, simple food,—probably the cheapest which can be produced,—such of the poor creatures standing near as were possessed of the means ate a small portion, for which they paid one penny, devouring the cake with voracious appetite, while the rest looked on with hungry and longing expression. The reader may be assured that the half-starved crowd were supplied to the extent of their appetite for once with the nutritious though simple food, while thin-cheeked mothers were seen hurrying away with pieces of the polenta in their hands to feed their hungry children at home. The profuse blessings which were showered upon the "Americano" were cheaply purchased.
Within that pretentious church were idle treasures, the interest upon which, if the principal were properly disposed of, would feed the hungry people of Guadalupe for years. "Ah!" says the poet Shelley, "whata divine religion might be found out, if charity were really the principle of it, instead of faith!"
Does Christianity, as strikingly represented by gorgeous temples, filled with hoarded, useless treasures, while surrounded by a hopeless, naked, starving populace, render any real service to humanity? To the author's mind, religion of this sort, so far from preventing one crime, affords pretext for hundreds.
Let us now conduct the reader to more cheerful and attractive scenes, and describe the picture as presented by the main thoroughfare of the charming capital of the Knights.
Broadway of Valletta.—Panoramic Street View.—A Bogus Nobility.—Former Grand Palace of the Knights.—Telegraphic Station.—About Soldier-Priests.—Interior of the Palace.—Ancient Tapestry.—Old Paintings.—Antique Armory.—An American with a Fad.—Ancient Battle-Flags.—Armor worn by the Knights.—Days of the Crusaders.—Bonaparte as a Petty Thief.—There are no Saints on Earth!—Dueling Ground.—Desecrating Good Friday.
Broadway of Valletta.—Panoramic Street View.—A Bogus Nobility.—Former Grand Palace of the Knights.—Telegraphic Station.—About Soldier-Priests.—Interior of the Palace.—Ancient Tapestry.—Old Paintings.—Antique Armory.—An American with a Fad.—Ancient Battle-Flags.—Armor worn by the Knights.—Days of the Crusaders.—Bonaparte as a Petty Thief.—There are no Saints on Earth!—Dueling Ground.—Desecrating Good Friday.
The Strada Reale of Valletta is thoroughly kaleidoscopic in its gay and fascinating presentment of humanity, forming a strange medley of colors, while its variety of nationalities recalls Suez and Port Said, where representatives of the East and West are so confusingly mingled. Here one sees English ladies and gentlemen clad in fashionable London attire; soldiers in smart red uniforms; barefooted natives, whose lower garments are held in place by a gaudy sash tied about the waist; brown-skinned peddlers, with fancy wares, jostled by a dignified Hindoo, a turbaned Turk, or a swarthy Spaniard of questionable purpose. There passes also an occasional Greek in picturesque national costume; a white burnoused Arab; a native woman in sombre dress, with her face nearly hidden by a dark hood (a faldetta), which takes the place of a Castilian mantilla. Here, also, are noisy, half-tipsy blue-jackets, with broad collars, and straw hats, enjoying shore-leave after their ideasof pleasure. There are many plethoric, unctuous priests and cowled monks, all mingling indiscriminately; while persistent, whining, half-clad beggars are present everywhere. Verily, it is a motley group one encounters upon this principal street of the Maltese capital.
Having once promenaded the Strada Reale from the fortress of St. Elmo to the Floriana Gate, lined from the beginning to the end with quaint yellow buildings, green projecting balconies, prominent statues of saints, and filled with a variety of colors generally which a painter's palette could hardly excel, an American is not likely soon to forget the brilliant picture of foreign life which it presents. In our own country, nothing like it is seen off the theatrical stage.
As regards the faldetta, or dark hood, which screens the faces of the Maltese women, though a popular legend ascribes its origin to the time of the French invasion, our own idea is quite different. Its adoption is most probably connected with the Oriental veil or yashmak of the Eastern women. It came into use, doubtless, upon these islands during the dominion of the Arabs, and has been handed down from mother to daughter ever since. It is purely for street wear. Within the house, at the theatre, or other public entertainments, variety in dress is not wanting, nor the dazzling brilliancy of diamonds and other precious stones, to set off in attractive style the rich brown complexion, dreamy eyes, and fine features of theMaltese ladies. The effect of this peculiar hood as worn in public is both nun-like and coquettish,—a seeming anomaly; but it is quite correct. The average woman of this mid-sea group speaks a universal language with her dark, expressive eyes, though only Maltese with her lips.
Society, as the term is commonly used, is rather peculiar in Valletta, and is divided into many cliques. There is plenty of gayety, such as is always to be met with in a great naval and military dépôt. Many of the conventionalities of English home life are dropped here, as they are inevitably in Her Majesty's Indian possessions, or at Hong Kong. All colonial life is apt to be a little lax, so to speak, just a trifle fast. Ennuied by their semi-isolation and circumscribed resources, even cultured people are liable to grow careless as regards the nice refinements of society. There are several clubs whose object is of a literary character. A well-organized society for the prevention of cruelty to animals exists here, also one to promote agriculture, and another known as the Society of Arts. Each of these engages the attention of a certain set of people of culture, to their own advantage and indirectly to that of the community.
It is natural that there should be a certain exclusiveness observed between the Maltese families and those of the official English residents. Caste, so to express it, though not under the arbitrary conditions in which it exists in India, is not unknown here. Where is it not to be found under various formsthroughout Christendom? It exists to a certain degree among the English themselves. The separation caused by the dissimilarity of language, religion, and education is also wide. There are, as already stated, a certain number of "nobles" who transmit their distinction to their sons. These are a bigoted, useless, and extremely ignorant class, generally possessing just enough inheritance to keep them from beggary, yet who are too proud of their empty titles to adopt any occupation. These individuals, together with the numerous native priests, as illiterate as their humblest parishioners, form the black sheep of Malta, equally useless and unornamental, illustrating the proverb that "Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do."
The quays bordering the harbor of the capital present a busy and picturesque scene well worthy of study. Next to the Strada Reale, they afford the strongest local color. They are dotted with fruit stands, refreshment booths, out-of-door cafés, piles of ship-chandlery, jack tars in white canvas clothes and beribboned hats, and native boatmen in scarlet caps and sashes of the same texture. One feels inclined to laugh at the queer little go-carts intended to carry three or four persons, and drawn by a dwarfed donkey. These vehicles are not unlike an Irish-jaunting-car, the passengers sitting sideways in the same fashion.
The former Grand Palace of the Knights of St. John is quite a plain structure externally, much lesspretentious than the edifices devoted to the several divisions of the order. The Auberge de Castile, for instance, is a far more striking and ornamental palace, built at the headquarters of the Spanish language. The Grand Palace has an unbroken frontage of three hundred feet on St. George's Square,—Piazza St. Giorgio,—forming an immense quadrangle bounded on each side by large thoroughfares. Two centuries ago this was called the Piazza dei Cavalieri, or the "Square of the Knights," and was held as almost sacred ground. No Maltese could resort to it without a permit in the early days of the new city. The French called it the Square of Liberty. On the opposite side of this esplanade is the main guard house of the garrison, also an establishment known as the Casino, a popular resort of the merchants and the public generally. Over the entrance of the building devoted to the guard is the following inscription in Latin: "The love of the Maltese and the voice of Europe confirm these islands to great and invincible Britain." In the Strada Vescovo, on the left of the square, is the house occupied by Byron while he resided here, a fact which your guide will be sure to mention, as though it were of some real importance. The old palace has two principal entrances in the front, each of which leads into an inner area or open court. There are two other entrances, one from the Strada Vescovo, and one at the back facing the public market. Centuries ago these spaces within the palace were improved, one for the storage of the sedanchairs belonging to the leaders of the several divisions of the Knights, and the other as a stable for the horses of the Grand Master. During the Carnival these dignitaries made a gallant show, drawn in the state carriage, to which six gayly decorated mules were attached, and preceded by a trumpeter. To-day these deliciously cool areas which lie within the palace are planted with orange-trees, tall scarlet verbenas, pink oleanders, hibiscus, rosebushes, and honeysuckles. A large and thrifty creeping vine, whose name we cannot recall, covered one whole side of a wing of the building, from foundation to roof, with a wilderness of green, together with a wealth of scarlet bloom, imparting an agreeable sense of beauty and fragrance. The liquid notes of a musical fountain also delighted the ear. In the right-hand court is a large Norfolk Island pine, planted by the Duke of Edinburgh, and this is called Prince Alfred's Court. The left-hand area is named for the Prince of Wales, and contains a statue of Neptune by Giovanni of Bologna.
This famous old palace is now occupied as the town residence of the English governor and commander-in-chief of the forces.
The upper portion is surmounted by a tall square tower, originally designed as an observatory, the obvious incongruity of which seems to indicate that it was probably an afterthought on the part of the architect. It is now used as a marine telegraph station, whence all arrivals are signaled as soon as theships' flags and numbers can be made out. The view from thistorretta, as it is called, drew forth the admiration of Lamartine, who visited it. "From the tower of the old palace," he writes, "Valletta is seen in all its original beauty, appearing as if cut out of a single piece of living rock."
The area in front of the palace—no longer exclusive ground—is now a favorite public resort, and contains two fountains brimming with sweet refreshment. Here one of the regimental bands gives out-of-door concerts twice a week. This is also made the headquarters of the annual carnival displays and frequent military reviews. The Spaniards would call it the plaza of the city.
It is true that the exterior of this historic pile is somewhat disappointing and commonplace in its architectural effect, but the interior more than compensates for this first impression. One enters the lofty corridors stimulated by a throng of active memories touching the romantic story of the chivalric order of the Knights. The impress of that seemingly incongruous combination, the soldier and the priest, is everywhere to be seen. We promptly recall their humble beginning centuries ago at Jerusalem, where, actuated by pious zeal, they fulfilled the duty of good Samaritans; how they grew in numbers and in importance until they finally became a warlike body of soldier-monks, knight-errants of the cross. We remember that for hundreds of years they fought incessantly against the active power of the Porte, and,almost single-handed, kept the Ottomans and the piratical Algerines at bay, an enemy who, uniting, strove to extend the creed of Mohammed westward by power of the sword, and to banish Christianity from the face of the earth; how, successively driven from Jerusalem, Cyprus, Acre, and Rhodes, they finally established a home for the order in this Maltese group, in defense of which they fought heroically, spilling their blood like water upon the ramparts of St. Elmo, and finally erecting this noble city, where they have left such lasting monuments of their bravery, enterprise, success, and decline.
Such thoughts are almost automatically suggested by the brain as one enters the portals of the interesting old palace, once the court of the now virtually extinct fraternity. Though occupied by the English officials and kept scrupulously in order, it has an unmistakable and most melancholy air of desertion in its stately hangings, its echoing halls, and quaint vestibules. It must all have been very grand when the renowned brotherhood were at the zenith of their fame and power, when the head of the order presided here and ruled the proud organization in regal state.
The interior of the palace is divided into broad passageways inlaid with colored marble, picture galleries, banqueting hall, hall of justice, hall of council, grand armory, and many other spacious apartments. Among the most meritorious paintings are a series of striking views representing the various sanguinary battles in which the Knights had from time to time beenengaged. This series is the work of Matteo da Lecce. Other examples of superior workmanship are by Caravaggio, Cavalier Favray, Giuseppe d' Arpino, and so on. There are no modern paintings in the palace, all are mellowed by age. Indeed, there is nothing new here in art or furniture; such would be quite out of place; everything seems to have about it the tone of lapsed centuries, while exhibiting a lavishness of original expenditure which the most limitless means alone could warrant.
In one of the broad corridors near the armory hall, the gilded state carriage formerly used by the Grand Masters may be seen. Its gaudy construction shows the style kept up by the Knights in those days. The tawdry, lumbering, gold-decked state carriage one sees at the State Department of the City of Mexico, left by the ill-advised Maximilian, is no more extravagant in character. The idea of supporting an official carriage at all upon this circumscribed island is an obvious folly and straining after effect. The most extensive journey such a vehicle could make would be the length of the Strada Reale, or possibly from the palace square through the Porta Reale into the suburb of Floriana, about two miles. This useless carriage somehow recalled the ponderous gilded car of Juggernaut, seen at Tanjore, India, the structure in which the idol takes its yearly airing drawn by thousands of poor, deluded, and fanatical Hindoos.
This edifice in the Square of St. George, it will be remembered, was the official palace of the order,the headquarters of the Grand Master. Each "language" or division of the Knights had also its separate palace. Valletta, like Calcutta or Venice, was a city of palaces. In these latter days the members of the fraternity lived in great splendor; their tables were heavy with the richest viands to be obtained, while they were served in regal style by numerous slaves, male and female.
The council chamber of the Grand Palace is hung with ancient Brussels fabrics of great original cost and beauty. These pieces of tapestry, twenty-two in all, are each fifteen feet square. The figures are of life-size, representing typical scenes in India, Africa, Europe, and America, and depicting with considerable accuracy the fauna and flora of each section of the globe. In the representations of America, there are a few manifest incongruities and inaccuracies, but one should not be hypercritical under such circumstances. Little, comparatively speaking, was known three hundred years ago of this great western continent. These tapestries are in a state of remarkable preservation, both as regards color and texture. They are said to have hung in their present position for over two centuries and a half, exposed to a strong light, and more or less to atmospheric influences. These are rare specimens of the admirable work as well as of the durable colors produced by those early artists in textile fabrics. Connoisseurs whose interest is in this special line visit Malta solely to see them as they hang in the old palace.
The author chanced to meet a wealthy American gentleman in the city of Florence, lately, with whom this mania for ancient tapestry had become chronic, and was pursued to some purpose. The individual referred to was Mr. Charles M. Ffoulke, now of Washington, D. C. He had invested over fifty thousand dollars in the purchase of very old and neglected fabrics of this sort, found in various parts of Italy, notably at Rome. These were mostly from the looms of Gobelin and Brussels. Mr. Ffoulke had secured the services of a score of patient nuns in the convents of Florence, who were engaged in the careful restoration of the frayed and torn, but valuable fabrics. When every piece should be brought as nearly as possible to its original condition, the whole was to be shipped to America. One portion of this collection, valued at twenty thousand dollars, is already in this country, and was presented by its generous owner for the adornment of the sacristy of a prominent church in New York city.
The spacious dining-hall of the government palace of Malta contains among many other portraits one of Grand Master Vijncourt, by the famous artist Caravaggio. A master ruler of the order, as we have shown, always lived in regal style. When he went to church he was attended by a hundred Knights in full uniform, and half a dozen pages to hold up the bottom of his robes of state. When he dined in public, the Knights who formed the rank and file of the order ranged themselves about the hall standing, and no onemoved until he gave the signal for doing so. He was addressed only in the most deferential manner, and the Knight doing so must uncover his head and bow submissively. No royal court observed more strictly the etiquette of profound respect, as evinced towards the reigning sovereign of the realm.
There is also in the old palace a gorgeous throne-room and ball-room combined, sometimes used for the latter purpose to-day. The several private apartments are all richly frescoed by the best exponents of the art who could be obtained in Italy, when frescoing was held to be one of the highest branches of pictorial illustration. Many of the scenes are very elaborate and quite unfaded, representing events in the early history of the Order of St. John, including tableaux of the famous defense of Rhodes, together with many sea-fights between the galleys of the order and the piratical crafts of the Barbary coast. The Knights prided themselves upon being as good sailors as soldiers. It was in their galleons that they captured their richest spoils from wealthy Ottomans, who often carried with them to sea not only much personal property and convertible wealth, but also a portion of their slaves and the favorites of their harems. It was thus that each capture of the Knights represented a considerable amount of real wealth.
In visiting the Grand Palace of Malta, the apartment which is sure most to interest and occupy the stranger is that of the elaborate armory of the ancient order, a spacious hall, two hundred and fifty feetlong by forty wide, wherein are exhibited the steel harness, mailed gloves, crossbows, javelins, halberds, pikes, arquebuses, and battle-axes which were used by these soldier-monks in actual service. Like Falstaff's sword, the edges of these weapons present tokens of having given and received many shattering blows, but one feels no doubt that the evidence here displayed is genuine. History in this connection is quite vivid enough without seeking to heighten its color by any subterfuge. In the days when these weapons were used, conflicts were mostly at close quarters, hand-to-hand. Cavalry and long range cannon were of little account; indeed, the latter did not exist, and in siege operations the former were almost entirely useless.
In this interesting and curious armory are many torn flags, Turkish robes of military rank, and other trophies of war captured from the infidels in various conflicts.
A critical eye will observe that most of the armor must have been designed for men of smaller physical development than the average soldier of our period. There is one mail suit in the hall, to wear which, a man must have been at least seven feet in height, and of corresponding physical development, the helmet alone weighing thirty-five pounds, which would soon exhaust the strength of an ordinary man. There are said to be over three hundred suits of armor preserved and mounted in the collection, though we should not have thought there were nearly so many.The average weight of these must be considerably over forty pounds each. Many are constructed of the finest quality of steel, elaborately engraved, and inlaid with gold and silver. The author's attention was called to one suit, which was so heavily ornamented with the precious metal that the original cost must have been at least a thousand pounds sterling, including the artistic and mechanical labor involved in its production. This armor, it should be understood, was only designed to protect the front and side of the wearer's person. Here and there are seen a breast-plate with indentures evidently made by an enemy's bullet or spear-thrust, which would doubtless have proved fatal to the wearer but for this metallic protection. The armory is also hung with an interesting series of grim old portraits of the Grand Masters of the Order of St. John, dating back to the earliest days of the organization. As here represented, they must have been men of decided character, the traits of decision and firmness being those most prominently delineated by the artists. One or two were evidently persons of fine and commanding personality, notably L'Isle Adam and La Vallette. There is, somehow, a sternness and spirit of aggression pervading all these counterfeit presentments.
Some of the firearms in the Knights' armory are very curious weapons, closely resembling the principle of our modern revolvers and breech-loading guns, although it must be remembered that these specimens are three or four hundred years old. When onepauses to consider the matter, this seems to make the late Colonel Colt more of a discoverer than an inventor. A most curious cannon preserved among the rest of the arms, small in calibre and of Turkish workmanship, is particularly interesting. It has a barrel which would take a ball of about an inch and a half in diameter, and is made from closely-woven tarred rope, with a thin metallic lining, the whole so strong and compact that it would sustain a discharge of gunpowder sufficient to propel a shot with fatal effect a hundred yards at least. This singular weapon seems to have been used for belligerent purposes, and it purports to have been taken from the Mussulmans during the famous siege of Malta, in 1565, when an enemy forty thousand strong, with a hundred and fifty galleys, invested the island and besieged it for three months, being finally defeated with a loss of three quarters of their army. Thirty thousand men are said to have lost their lives on the part of the Turks, by the sword and camp fevers, not to enumerate those disabled by wounds.
As regards this strong and compact rope cannon just spoken of, so far as we know it is unique, and would seem to belong to an earlier period than is claimed for it. Probably it was brought by the Knights from Rhodes. Few people are aware how strongly tarred rope can be bound together by seamen and others accustomed to manipulate it. When thoroughly worked into shape, it becomes almost as solid as iron.
The rusty old lances, broken spears, and dimmed sword-blades hanging beside tattered battle-flags bearing bloody marks of the fierce contests in which they took part, are silent but suggestive tokens of the Crusades, recalling the names of Saladin and Cœur de Lion, when Christians and Mohammedans were arrayed in bitter sectarian warfare against each other upon the plains of Palestine,—romantic and historic days rendered thrice familiar to us by the captivating pen of Scott. Here we pause for a moment before the trumpet which sounded the retreat from Rhodes. These instruments close beside it are the bâtons of office which were used on state occasions by Aliofio Wignacourt and La Vallette. Those curious in such matters find the place full of interest while carefully examining these warlike appurtenances, which as a whole form a collection unequaled in its line by any armory in Europe. There are many interesting relics of the famous Order of the Knights in this apartment, besides those of the battlefield. The hall is a veritable museum, containing many illuminated books, manuscripts, sacred emblems, ancient Phœnician, Arabic, and Maltese coins, with curious church paraphernalia which were in constant use centuries ago, each article forming a page, as it were, in the history of those Knights of the church. Among the treasures preserved in the armory was the costly and artistic sword given to the Grand Master, La Vallette, by Philip II. of Spain. The golden hilt was set with large diamonds of purest water, and the workmanshipwas of exquisite finish. This sword Bonaparte stole and appropriated to his private use, wearing it ostentatiously when he departed from Malta on his way to Egypt,—a mean and petty sort of thieving which this man constantly practiced.
Among other valued curiosities, one sees in a glass case the deed of perpetual sovereignty granted to the Order of St. John by Charles V., dated March, 1530. Nothing upon earth endures for long. The formal deed of gift is here, but the title is extinct, and so is the order of the Chevaliers of St. John.
The English government have stored in the palace a large collection of firearms, including some twenty thousand muskets, which were manufactured in the Tower of London. Such have been the improvements made in this weapon, however, that these guns would hardly be considered suitable arms with which to furnish a body of infantry in time of war. The old smooth-bore, muzzle-loading firearm is now entirely obsolete. Even the African tribes, who have so lately fought the French in Dahomey, were supplied with, and used effectively, breech-loading rifles.
It appears, as we have felt it our duty to make plain, that these church-robed warriors were very human in their instincts, and by no means exempt from the average sins that flesh is heir to. Some outspoken historical writers have recorded acts of debauchery perpetrated by them which we should certainly hesitate to reprint. All this, too, notwithstanding their pretended sanctity and discipleship, together with thestringency of their priestly vows. We may be sure that there are no saints on this mundane sphere, and that those who pretend to the greatest degree of sanctity are mostly those who possess the least. Experience never fails to furnish proof of this. Our most cherished idols have feet of clay. Nothing known to civilization is more debasing to morality, truthfulness, honor, and chivalrous manhood than the holding of slaves. The Knights of St. John were open and undisguised slave traders,—slave traders in the fullest sense of the term, reaping therefrom not alone constant additions to their material wealth, but also all the miserable consequences contingent upon so vile a connection. This was perhaps the greatest promoter of the sensuality, gluttony, and gambling propensities which prevailed to such a demoralizing and shameful extent among the members of the brotherhood.
These famous champions of the church had also their schisms, their petty jealousies and quarrels, like all the rest of the world. There were in the code of laws, to which they solemnly subscribed, stringent rules against premeditated dueling, but these were easily and frequently evaded. Fatal infractions often occurred, the outcome of quarrels started over the gaming-table or the wine-cup. Punishment was somehow escaped. The law was plain enough, but the misdeed seems always to have been condoned. Men who live by the sword are very liable to die by it. Deaths arising from personal conflicts were by no means rare among this priestly fraternity. If aKnight was challenged by one of his brotherhood for what was deemed to be good and sufficient cause, and did not promptly respond, no matter why, he was denounced among the fraternity as a coward, and was punished by social ostracism. The inconsistency of such a state of affairs, existing in a pretended religious community, will at once suggest itself to the reader. The profession of Christianity did very little to separate the armed priest from the brute. This fact was not only illustrated in this dueling propensity, but in the recklessness of their daily habits. Human life was held at the lowest possible estimate, and its sacrifice for trivial causes was taken little if any notice of by those in authority. Men who make a profession of arms are very liable to resort to weapons of warfare, rather than to reason, in the settlement of any question which may arise among them.
There is a narrow street which runs the whole length of the city, parallel with the Strada Reale, which was celebrated as the dueling ground of the Knights. The reason for this selection was because a combat in this circumscribed passageway might be looked upon in the light of a casual encounter, or an accidental collision. This was a very weak deduction, but it appears to have sufficed for the purpose. The fact was, that a challenge which had passed between two Knights, no matter what the circumstances were, could not be ignored by them, or a personal encounter avoided, any more than such an occurrence could be disregarded among the swashbucklers ofDumas's musketeers. The instinct of the sword, so to speak, was stronger with these professed religionists than was any other recognized principle. The combatants were bound, however, by some recognized palliating rules: for instance, to put up their swords upon the interference of a brother Knight, an officiating priest, or a woman, which may be interpreted as an attempt to draw a line of prevention about this barbaric custom of settling private disputes with the sword.
When a fatal conflict occurred on the Strada Stretta, a cross painted or cut upon the house front nearest to the spot ever after indicated the event. There used to be a long line of these significant signs upon this thoroughfare, but nearly all are obliterated, some by design and others by the wear of time. The records of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries teem with entries of stabbing, wounding, and killing among the Knights, the result of encounters upon the Strada Stretta. When there was a common enemy to encounter, and upon whom to expend their surplus energy, the Knights were as one man, living together in comparative harmony, but in days of peace they were only too ready to turn their weapons against each other in heated quarrels.
Washington Irving relates a veritable ghost story concerning a fatal encounter which took place in this notorious Strada Stretta, as related to him by an old Knight who once lived upon the island of Malta, and whom he met somewhere in Italy. The basis of thestory was the fact that two Knights of the Order of St. John, one of Spain and one of France, met and fought a duel here on a certain Good Friday, the latter losing his life in the conflict. There was always more or less active rivalry existing between the French and Spanish divisions of the brotherhood. In the instance referred to there was a woman in the case, for the Knights were as famous for their gallantry towards the ladies as for prowess in battle. In times of peace they occupied their leisure, not with any intellectual resort,—alas! that the truth must be told, few of them, comparatively speaking, could read and write,—but nearly all seem to have been experts at domestic intrigue and gambling, at wine-bibbing and dueling. Their only study was the effective handling of warlike weapons. The fencing-master, not the schoolmaster, was constantly "abroad."
The story, which Irving tells at considerable length, represents the victor in the duel referred to as having suffered infinite remorse for his murderous act, and that he was pursued night and day by a terrible phantom visible only to himself. In vain was the severest self-imposed penance, in vain the confessional, in vain his prayerful regrets. He seemed doomed as a just punishment to endure a purgatory upon earth. The great onus of the whole affair, however, as made to appear in the narrative, was not the sacrifice of a human life under such circumstances, but that the act should have been committed on Good Friday!