Miseranda Antonia Grech, 16, was found naked on her marital bed in her Valletta home with 13 stab wounds to her chest.

Her husband Giovanni Battista had fled the scene, leaving the murder weapon – a table knife – behind. He sought refuge in a church but soon confessed he had killed Miseranda over suspicion she had a romantic relationship with Don Lorenzo Buttigieg.

The year is 1706, but the crime is one we are very familiar with in the 21st century: a woman, raped and murdered by a man.

Over the past five years alone, women have been stabbed in the head, strangled to death and had their throats slashed by their former partner. They have also been killed with a mallet by their son and brother.

Just three weeks ago, Paulina Dembska was brutally raped and murdered by a man in Sliema while feeding stray cats.

The femicide, unfortunately, reminded palaeographer Vanessa Buhagiar of a series of rape and murder cases documented by the courts and preserved at the National Archives of Malta in Rabat.

Buhagiar is currently cataloguing the archives’ Miscellanea – a collection of miscellaneous court records. So far, she has worked through the first decade of the 18th century and has come across several detailed acts of violence by men on women.

In the case of Miseranda, it was Giovanni himself who had introduced her to the priest after she complained about abdominal pains. He told the court he started growing suspicious when he noticed that Miseranda and Don Lorenzo got along well on trips to the Mellieħa Sanctuary of Our Lady.

He also claimed to be in possession of explicit love letters from the priest to his bride. However, these were only partially legible.

Giovanni was sentenced to a lifetime of rowing on the Order’s galleys – a sentence the Order preferred over jailtime, execution or exile, since it meant free labour.

Just one year earlier, another woman was similarly killed by her husband “in a fit of rage”.

Catherinuccia ‘Nuzza’ Seichel was stabbed seven times by Andrea, a seasoned Order captain who believed she was having an affair with their neighbour, Neapolitan sailor Onofrio Prendarelli.

She was found dying in a pool of blood by her 18-year-old daughter.

Seichel was found guilty of having committed an uxoricide – the killing of one’s own wife – and sentenced to 10 years of rowing, a light sentence that was still pardoned on appeal and reduced to a 500 scudi fine and one month exile from Valletta. The neighbour, on the other hand, was sentenced to a lifetime of rowing.

“So even though the Order recognised uxoricide as a horrible crime, it put its own interest before justice for Catherinuccia’s murder,” Buhagiar told Times of Malta.

“These are just two murders – one year apart – among dozens that have been documented for posterity. If anyone needed any proof that femicide is culturally ingrained in our society, all they need to do is take a look at these court documents.

“As a historian, I believe we should acknowledge femicide and do something about it so that history doesn’t repeat itself,” Buhagiar added.

Rapists Freed

Violent crimes against women are not limited to murder.

Gratia Gambin, from Rabat, appeared in court on May 2 of 1701 to testify on how Clemente Vella repeatedly raped her at Ġnien is-Sultan under the pretext of a promise of marriage.

Gratia recounted to the prosecutors how Clemente, a fieldworker from Rabat, often stalked her while she was harvesting cotton, until he eventually confessed that he was enamoured with her.

He promised her his hand in marriage, forcing Gratia to comply to Clemente’s “passions”. When she tried to fight him off, he violently raped her “in a fit of jealousy”.

Gratia took him to court when she realised he never intended to follow up on his promise of marriage – it was just an excuse to satisfy his sexual desires.

Clemente denied the charges, and despite several people attesting to the stalking and rape, the court believed him and freed him.

The perpetrator in these 18th century cases was not always known to the victim.

Just a month before Carnival festivities in 1705, Maria Vella had just made it home in Fort Ricasoli in the early morning hours, just after work.

Shocked, she found an unknown man, in a coat, waiting for her inside her house.

She later told court officials that the man took off his coat and forced himself upon her, raping her vaginally and anally.

Scared and exhausted, she could not stop him. He caused her so much pain that when she was discovered unconscious the following morning by her mother, she called for a priest to perform the Last Rites on her.

She recalled waking up to her mother crying over her, who found her on the floor after a carpenter broke down the door when she did not answer it.

Maria spent a month under the care of Fort Ricasoli’s resident medic and following additional treatment at a separate hospital, it transpired that her rapist had given her il male francese (syphilis).

In a strange turn of events, her rapist Domenicuzzo Callus even visited her while she was recovering.

Despite the medical report and proof of the rape, Grand Master Ramon Perellos i Rocafull freed Domenicuzzo from prison and from all accusations on the premise of the rebus sic stantibus clause, or ‘escape clause’ – a legal doctrine that allows contracts or treaties to be terminated on the basis of a change of circumstances.

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 forms 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.