I cannot but join in words of praise with regard to ‘the sleek museum’ the renovated Fort St Elmo is now housing (‘Mickey Mouse gas mask and otherstories of war’, September 14).
In referring to the table used for the capitulation of 1800, the report stated that “although it was the Maltese who revolted against the French, the locals were considered rebels”.
Historical analysis suggests that the British preferred to leave the Maltese out of the signing, with a possession-related strategy in mind.
Ignoring the countryside insurgents meant the locals would have no basis for claims to their territory in future, which turned out to be the case.
In his 1840 published Histoire de Malte, former French consul Miège states that Vaubois, before signing, offered to bind France with an IOU to theMaltese and leave French soldiers on the island as suretyfor the French Republic to pay back funds taken from the Massa Frumentaria.
On behalf of Britain, Pigot preferred to take on the responsibility to pay those monies back. In time, some of that debt was paid; in spite of its insistence during the 19th century to be refunded, the local Church only received the money due - from a Maltese government - very recently.
An anonymous satira I found three years ago in Paris was originally pinned to a door in Strada Stretta.
It must have been written close to the Treaty of Amiens, March 25, 1802.
In it, the anonymous observer cynically grasps the political situation of the period, describing Malta as la Ruffiana. The author mentions Roma (in reference to the Curia?) calling her la Jacobina, maybe because of its conniving with Britain to keep the Order from returning, thus accommodating British possession.
Regarding St Elmo’s new museum, it struck me to listen to a looped recorded sequence in the room depicting the 1798-1800 events.
The brief simulated period conversation deals lightly with history contextualising the British as prostitutes and the French as thieves. I find these inferences in bad taste and I reckon so would visitors.