A tin ring, a blood-stained parchment and a swatch of damask are among the items kept for posterity at the National Archives.
All three have a story to tell, one more intriguing than the other.
The ring was taken off the fourth finger of Mrs Wharf’s corpse in November 1898 at Lazzareto Hospital, when her husband, Private Wharf, claimed it had been swapped with the original gold wedding ring.
It was kept by the inquiring magistrate as part of the evidence collected on the case which, unfortunately for Private Wharf, was never concluded.
The inquiry report suggests that the ring worn by Mrs Wharf was never made of gold but might have been plated in gold instead. In fact, the report says, the one she was wearing when she died, and which is now preserved at the archives, had traces of gold on it.
The only conclusion that could be drawn was that Private Wharf was cheated when he was sold the ring.
Thirty years later, a much poorer person who definitely did not afford a tin ring, let alone a gold-plated one, was cheated out of some 40 grams of meat from the butchers.
In March 1928, Lord Strickland received an anonymous letter in Maltese signed by Fkir (fqir, poor man) who recounted buying some 100 grams of liver from the Valletta Suq.
The butcher who sold him the meat used a very thick parchment to pack the liver in it, meaning the client was cheated out of some 40 grams of produce.
The aggrieved customer sent the prime minister the blood-stained paper, urging him to protect poor customers.
The head of ministry – today’s OPM – had taken the matter seriously, asking for legal advice from the Treasury Council, which in turn replied that customers needed to weigh the produce soon after buying it.
The correspondence, including the bloody parchment, can be seen at the archives 100 years on.
“Contrary to common belief, the records at the archives are not just paper documents… we even have weapons of crime, such as knives and screwdrivers that formed part of magisterial inquiries,” Leonard Callus, from the National Archives told Times of Malta.
“The duty of the national archives is to preserve and make accessible the national memory, and not all memories have been documented on paper.”
Callus explains that archivists are duty-bound to preserve – for an indefinite period of time – all government records that have an enduring historical value.
“This means we don’t need to keep all records of civil servants’ requests for leave, for example, but we must keep a sample in case this information is useful in the future.
“And by useful, I don’t mean just historical. The archives’ records come in handy in various sectors, including health, human rights and democracy.
“In the Nordic countries, among others, all patients’ records are preserved to help the authorities develop medical services.
“There are also Maltese emigrants who get in touch with the archives so that they can trace their civil service records for information about the period they worked in Malta so that they can claim a pension.”
And ultimately, the administration leaves a record of its decisions at the archives for scrutiny and accountability by future generations.
In fulfilling their role as guardians of the Maltese memory and identity, the archives, under the curatorship of Callus, have started preserving the records of common folk.
“Malta’s history is not just the history of queens, kings, generals and politicians. It is the history of the man in the street.
“So, we recently launched a project through which people can deposit their memories to help enrich the archives. People with a story to tell, which they believe could be lost forever with their demise, can contact us and we’ll discuss the best way forward – whether to interview them or preserve some ephemera that they have kept for decades among others.”
When the king went over budget by 40 per cent
In 1908, the governor received a letter informing him that King Edward VII wanted to redecorate the Valletta Palace’s ballroom with green silk damask.
The local authorities tried to fulfil His Majesty’s wishes and acquired a quote from an Italian supplier, however, there was one problem.
The total cost of the damask was £968 – up from the voted £700 for the renovation.
The series of exchanges between Public Works and the governor, with the former claiming they needed a bigger budget to meet His Majesty’s wishes, is preserved at the archives together with a swatch of the luxurious fabric.
The king probably never went to dance there but the budget was eventually increased and the refurbishment completed.
This article is being published as part of a series called ‘Malta’s hidden treasures’, a collaboration between the National Archives of Malta and Times of Malta.
The project, forming part of the European Digital Treasures co-funded by the European Union through the Creative Europe programme, allows readers to gain an insight into Maltese history, society through our archives.
You can discover more at the National Archives of Malta headquartered at the historical building of Santo Spirito in Rabat and other archives. If you are unable to visit the archives in person, you will soon be able to access an online oral and visual archive called Memorja.
The website will be the main repository of recent Maltese national and public memory and will host hundreds of recollections dating back to the 1920s.
Those interested in this project can register online on www.memorja.com ahead of the launch of the website. More information about the national archives on 2145 9863 or customercare.archives@gov.mt.