Ancient Catacombs. – A Subterranean City. – Phœnician 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 Città 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. Phœnicians, 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 Città 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 Città Vecchia, her glory was at its acme in mediæval 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 Città 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. Città 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, Città 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 Città 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 Città 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 Città 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 Phœnician 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 Phœnician 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 Città Vecchia, supposed to have been in use among the Phœnicians. 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 Città 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 Phœnician origin. It is thought by many that this people had their capital in the group near this spot, possibly antedating Città 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 Città 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 Phœnician 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 Æsculapius. 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 Phœnician 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 Città 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 manœuvring 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.