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Page 5
The habits and manners of the Maltese have long been notorious for their
rude characteristics, probably attributable to the people's Moorish
origin, although the race has now blended with the smooth Italian.
Throughout the Levant they have the bad name first deserved by their
robberies and murders. British rule has effected great reforms, but it
cannot change the leopard's spots.
The experience of our boys in some of the outlying parts of the island,
and even in many streets and caf�s, was that these primitive people had
not altogether lost their primitive instincts in the course of becoming
civilised. One of their customary tricks is to offer one of their
bangles, or some other souvenir, to get you to spend money in the caf�s
and dancing saloons, and he would be a clever man who ever succeeded in
obtaining one of the souvenirs promised him from day to day. The women
of Malta certainly have strong claims to beauty, at any rate up to the
age of sixteen, for they mature early. They have large and lustrous
black eyes, and are of a swarthy and somewhat Spanish type. They still
wear the traditional hood, a black scarf, called a "Faldetta," thrown
over the head and shoulders, and disposed in such a style as to exhibit
the countenance of the wearer in the most alluring form. Although
picturesque in the distance, they are very slovenly in their hair and
dress on closer acquaintance, and generally exhibit the traces of
their Oriental origin. They are great experts in the making of Maltese
lace, for which they have won a world-wide reputation, and their native
filigree work is also very famous and very beautiful. Churches (where
weddings are celebrated in the evening) are very numerous, and priests
and friars are always to be seen in the streets. The boys of our
regiment said that Malta was chiefly notable for "yells, smells, and
bells."
We passed a very merry time here for nearly three weeks--such a time as
many were destined never to know again--and then were shipped to
Marseilles, _en route_ for the trenches on the Western Front.
In the "Main Guard" of the Governor's Palace at Valetta we left behind
us a fresco memorial of our short sojourn on the island. For many
generations it has been the custom of regiments stationed in Malta to
paint or draw regimental crests, portraits (and caricatures), etc., on
the interior walls of this "Main Guard," and on its doors also. Walls
and doors, both are very full of these more or less artistic mementoes,
but space was found which I was asked to cover with a black and white
series of cartoons of prominent members of our (the 2nd) Battalion R.F.
CHAPTER II.
FROM MALTA TO MARSEILLES.
From the bows of our boat as she lay in harbour at Marseilles, I
"spotted" three typical figures. The one holding the rope is a French
sailor, the one at the bottom of the picture is a French gendarme, and
the third is a Ghurka, one of our fine sturdy hillmen from India, who
had come out to France to stand by the Empire.
Marseilles was a most wonderful sight at the time I was there, and
although I had made many previous visits in normal times, when I had
greatly admired its grand proportions, none of them had given me any
idea of what its appearance would be when it became the clearing station
in the time of such a great war, and one of the chief bases of all food
supplies. Troops of all descriptions were working like ants by day and
by night, unloading boats to the huge stores of all descriptions of
provender, and loading the trains with all kinds of artillery,
ammunition, Red Cross wagons, motors, horses, and all the paraphernalia
of modern warfare.
The town is the third largest in France, and the chief Mediterranean
seaport. Its history teems with exciting incidents of plague, fire,
sacking, siege, and hand-to-hand fighting, so it is quite in keeping
that it should take so important a part in the present conflict. It was
here Monte Cristo was hurled from the Chateau d'If in the sack from
which he cut his escape. Francis the First besieged it in vain, and it
prospered under King Rene. In the French Revolution it figured so
conspicuously as to give the title to the national hymn of the French.
THE STORY OF "THE MARSEILLAISE."
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