Vincent Zammit: Assedju. Ġrajja ta’ Qlubija. 1565 
Midsea Books, €15

The Ottoman Siege of Malta in the summer of 1565 has given birth to numerous accounts. To quote once again Voltaire’s remark, repeated ad nauseam often enough to make one gnash one’s teeth, nothing is better known than the Siege of Malta.

Indeed, there are almost numberless accounts, starting from contemporary ones to hagiographic retellings, to scientific analyses and often, why not, debunking accounts by historians meant to lessen its importance.

Vincent Zammit’s Assedju. Ġrajja ta’ Qlubija 1565 is, however, something else. It is a charming, extremely readable publication that approaches the account of the Siege from different angles. In 90 little ‘pills’, Zammit manages to compile a cyclopaedia of the events that yanked Malta into the European limelight by touching upon the most varied aspects of the Siege.

The book owes its origin to the 90 daily short talks that Zammit prepared for Campus FM on the occasion of the 450th anniversary of the Siege. Not counting the weekends, that made it almost one-talk-a-day during the 113-day duration of the Siege itself.

The great appeal of this handy book lies in the fact that the sections are short enough not to outstay their welcome and yet they are authoritative enough, based on the author’s research, not to make one feeling that one is wasting one’s time by going over well-trodden ground.

Zammit’s popular approach should not mislead anybody into thinking that this is some slapdash publication meant just to capitalise on the commemoration of the Siege.

Zammit gives an overview of the situation obtaining in the Mediterranean when the Ottoman Turks were threatening Christendom; for many, they appeared unstoppable. Malta’s desultory attempts to fortify Mount Sciberras and Vittoriosa were the result of the fact that the Order was still doubtful about its permanence in the island, a position which the Siege would change.

Although all the major characters and incidents connected with the Siege are duly included, the great attraction of the book is the fact that Zammit mentions a great number of peripheral and little-known details.

The author adheres strictly to historical facts

The initial landfall was made at Ġnejna Bay, with the first clashes taking place near Falka Tower. Zammit gives accounts of the Maltese countryfolk and how they sought shelter behind the walls of Vittoriosa and Mdina, the Ottoman forces and those of the Order, as well as a potted biography of the redoubtable de Valette.

His account proceeds by throwing light over salient episodes and individuals, some of whom could be less popularly known, like Captain Andres de Miranda who fought at St Elmo to the very last, even ordering his soldiers to tie him to a chair to continue fighting as the fort was overrun. The Capuchin Fra Roberto from Eboli was a tower of strength to the besieged in the fort and continued his mission after the fall of the fort.

The author adheres strictly to historical facts, avoiding the embellishments of legend, as, for example, in his account of Toni Bajada who was the one who brought to Vittoriosa the welcome news of the arrival of the piccolo soccorso in July.

Other Maltese who distinguished themselves were Girolamo Cassar, the builder of Valletta, and his brother, and Evanġelista Barbara, who helped in the building of the ramparts and their consolidation. The parish priest of Qormi gave up his life in St Elmo, while another Maltese known as Luqa apparently had the ability to capture enemy soldiers without injuring them. Orlando Żabbar played a prominent role in the erection of the wooden palisade at Senglea Point which was to save the fort from falling into enemy hands.

Another ‘pill’ describes the massive artillery that the Turks, who were noted for the fineness of their artillery, brought with them. Some needed 20 oxen to pull. One large basilisk left behind remained at the site of the Upper Barrakka for almost one hundred years at least until 1664, when it was sketched by Willem Schellinks.

Zammit also discusses the endemic shortage of food faced by both besiegers and besieged. As the siege drew out, the Ottomans resorted to various manoeuvres to bring over peksimet biscuits to feed the troops in an island basically devoid of any resources.

The Turks decided not to attack either Mdina or Gozo, which left open vital means of communication with the outside world. The citadel was garrisoned with just 80 soldiers.

The legendary Romegas gets his own ‘pill’. A fearless soldier who would end his days in ignominy, he was the one sent by de Valette to raise the Order’s standard on the hallowed ruins of St Elmo after the Turks had sailed away.         

An interesting little-known anecdote concerns Giuseppe Manduca who, during the siege of Mdina in 1551, had convinced the authorities to stage a procession with the statue of St Agatha and which made the besiegers depart. Manduca ironically died a day after the Turks departed, on September 8.

One entry concerns the weather which played its part too as, for example, when fog made it possible for the fresh troops of the piccolo soccorso to make their way into Vittoriosa. A point that Zammit could have explained was that, at the time, the Gregorian calendar reform had not yet taken place.

This meant that the late summer storms were expected earlier than today and makes the Turkish decision to depart so quickly easier to understand. It also explains somewhat the welcome rainstorm that hit the island at the end of August.

Matteo Perez from Alezio in Puglia gets a more than deserved mention. Perez (two of his frescoes adorn the Sistine chapel in Rome) spent about six years in Malta. During this time, he adorned the main hall of the Grandmaster’s palace with the famous depictions of the Siege and painted the old altarpiece of the conventual church and that of the church of St Paul’s Shipwreck. The book is amply illustrated by details from the engravings by Antonio Francesco Lucini based on Perez’s famous murals.

Zammit also discusses the various maps that were published as newsheets during the Siege itself to show the actual progress.

The very last entry is suitably a description of Antonio Sciortino’s Great Siege monument and explains its symbolism, which many aren’t even aware of. The previous entry describes the monument erected by Gran Master Perellos in the main square of Vittoriosa in 1705; it too has its symbolism which the unwary tends to ignore.