The Three Capitals

• Introduction
• Chapter 1 The Ancient Hilltop: The Origins of Mdina
• Chapter 2 A City of Nobles: Life in Medieval Mdina
• Chapter 3 The Great Siege of 1565: Mdina's Crucial Role
• Chapter 4 Architectural Jewels of the Silent City
• Chapter 5 From Notabile to Mdina: A Change in Name and Fortune
• Chapter 6 The Mdina Cathedral: A Beacon of Faith
• Chapter 7 Echoes of the Knights: Mdina's Connection to the Order
• Chapter 8 A New Capital for a New Era: The Founding of Valletta
• Chapter 9 The Grid of a Fortress City: Valletta's Urban Plan
• Chapter 10 St. John's Co-Cathedral: A Baroque Masterpiece
• Chapter 11 The Grand Harbour: Valletta's Lifeline
• Chapter 12 Palaces and Auberges: The Power Centers of Valletta
• Chapter 13 Valletta Under British Rule: A Naval Hub
• Chapter 14 Scars of War: Valletta in World War II
• Chapter 15 The Heart of Modern Malta: Valletta Today
• Chapter 16 Gozo's Citadel: The Rise of Rabat (Victoria)
• Chapter 17 A Tale of Two Names: From Rabat to Victoria
• Chapter 18 The Social and Economic Heart of Gozo
• Chapter 19 Festa and Faith: The Religious Life of Victoria
• Chapter 20 Guarding the Island: The Fortifications of the Cittadella
• Chapter 21 A Tale of Three Cities: A Comparative Overview
• Chapter 22 The Capitals as Cultural Symbols
• Chapter 23 Preserving the Past: Heritage and Conservation in the Three Capitals
• Chapter 24 The Capitals in Art and Literature
• Chapter 25 The Future of the Three Capitals

To speak of a nation's capital is usually to speak of a single city, a singular heart from which the country's administrative and cultural lifeblood is pumped. It is a simple, straightforward concept. Malta, however, rarely does simple and straightforward. This small archipelago, a strategic linchpin in the Mediterranean for millennia, boasts a history so dense and layered that it could not possibly be contained within the story of just one capital city. Instead, its narrative is uniquely threefold, a tale told through the lives, fortunes, and very stones of three distinct cities: Mdina, the ancient noble stronghold; Valletta, the magnificent fortress-city of the Knights; and Rabat, known today as Victoria, the steadfast heart of the sister island of Gozo. Each city has, at a crucial point in the islands' saga, held the title and function of a capital, and each carries a personality as defined and individual as three characters in a play.

This book is the story of those three capitals. It is an exploration of how a sun-drenched rock in the middle of the sea became home to not one, but three centres of power, each rising to prominence in response to the unique pressures and opportunities of its time. We will journey from the silent, honey-coloured alleys of an ancient hilltop fortress to the grand, grid-planned streets of a Baroque masterpiece, and across the water to a citadel that has served as the ultimate refuge for its island's inhabitants. These are not merely geographical locations; they are living monuments, each echoing with the footfalls of Phoenician traders, Roman governors, Arab engineers, pious Knights, and British admirals. Their stories are Malta's story.

Our first protagonist is Mdina, a city that seems almost suspended in time. Perched on a strategic plateau in the heart of the main island, its story is the oldest. This was the island's capital from antiquity, long before the famous Knights of St. John ever cast their shadow on these shores. Founded by Phoenician settlers around the 8th century BC, it was a place of importance for every subsequent ruler. The Romans knew it as Melite, a settlement significantly larger than the fortified city we see today. It was within this ancient iteration of the capital that St. Paul the Apostle is said to have taken refuge after his shipwreck, an event that would forever tie the island's destiny to the Christian faith.

The Arabs, arriving around 870 AD, gave the city its present name, Medina, the Arabic word for city, and reshaped it, creating the labyrinthine street plan that still confounds visitors today. They also significantly reduced its size, building the formidable walls that now define it and separating it from its suburb, Rabat. For centuries, Mdina was the seat of Maltese nobility, the home of the Università, the island's self-governing body, and the centre of religious authority. It earned the title Città Notabile, the Noble City, a testament to its status as the favoured home of the islands' aristocratic families, who built their magnificent palazzi within its protective walls.

Even after it lost its status as the primary capital, Mdina retained its prestige. The Knights of St. John, upon their arrival in 1530, chose the maritime city of Birgu as their base, precipitating Mdina's slow decline in political importance. This shift drained the city of much of its population, leaving it with an ethereal quietness that eventually earned it its most famous moniker: the "Silent City." Yet, it was never truly abandoned. The nobility remained, and the city experienced a Baroque revival in the 18th century, adding another layer of architectural splendour to its medieval and Arab bones. Mdina's story is one of immense power, quiet dignity, and graceful endurance.

Our second capital, Valletta, could not be more different. Where Mdina is ancient, intimate, and introspective, Valletta is a bold, outward-looking statement of power and grandeur. It is a city born of conflict and foresight, a direct consequence of one of the most celebrated and bloody events in Maltese history: the Great Siege of 1565. The victorious Knights of St. John, having narrowly repelled the invading Ottoman Empire, knew they needed a new, state-of-the-art fortified city to secure their hold on the island. Their visionary Grand Master, Jean Parisot de Valette, chose the strategic Sciberras peninsula, a tongue of land overlooking the magnificent Grand Harbour.

Thus began the ambitious project to build a city worthy of the Order that had defied the Sultan. Pope Pius V and King Philip II of Spain provided financial aid and the services of Francesco Laparelli, one of the foremost military engineers of the age. The foundation stone was laid in 1566, and what rose from the bare rock was revolutionary. Valletta was one of Europe's first planned cities, designed on a modern grid system intended to allow for air circulation and sanitation. The streets were laid out with a precision that stood in stark contrast to the organic maze of Mdina. It was to be, as was often stated, "a city built by gentlemen for gentlemen."

On March 18, 1571, the Knights officially transferred their capital from Birgu to the new city, named in honour of its founder. Valletta became the administrative, military, and commercial heart of the island. Magnificent auberges were built to house the different 'langues' or nationalities of the Order, alongside grand palaces and imposing churches. St. John's Co-Cathedral, a masterpiece of Baroque art and architecture, became the spiritual centre of the Knights. The city, also known as Città Umilissima or "The Most Humble City," an official title somewhat at odds with its splendour, was a fortress designed for defence and a stage for the pageantry of power.

The third capital in our story is found on Malta's sister island, Gozo. For millennia, Gozo's history has been intertwined with Malta's, yet it has always maintained a distinct character. At its heart lies the Cittadella, a fortified city perched on a hill above the town of Rabat, which in 1887 was renamed Victoria in honour of the British Queen's Golden Jubilee. This ancient citadel has been the centre of Gozitan life since at least the Bronze Age, serving as a refuge for the entire population in times of danger. Its strategic position offered a commanding view of the surrounding countryside and the sea, a vital necessity on an island constantly under threat from corsair raids.

The history of the Cittadella is one of resilience in the face of immense hardship. The most traumatic event in its long history occurred in 1551, when an Ottoman force, having failed to take Malta, turned their fury on Gozo. The Citadel's medieval walls crumbled, and almost the entire population, numbering around 5,000 people, was carried off into slavery. This devastating event marked a turning point. It took decades to repopulate the island, and the Knights of St. John undertook a major reconstruction of the fortifications, creating the southern bastions we see today. For more than a century afterward, a law required all Gozitans to spend the night within the Citadel's walls for their safety.

The town of Rabat grew at the foot of this fortress, its name deriving from the Arabic word for suburb. While the Cittadella was the island's defensive core, Rabat became its social and commercial hub. Today, Victoria (as the combined city and citadel are officially known) is the undisputed capital of Gozo, housing its administrative centres, courts, and the heart of its religious life. Its story is not one of imperial grandeur like Valletta, nor of secluded nobility like Mdina. Instead, it is a testament to the endurance of a community, a capital that is less a seat of power and more a symbol of collective survival and identity for the island of Gozo.

The very concept of a "capital" in the Maltese context is fluid, shaped by the islands' unique geography and history. For much of its past, Malta was not a unified nation-state in the modern sense, but a feudal territory, a strategic naval base, or a colonial outpost. The capital was, therefore, the primary centre of the ruling power, whether that was the local nobility in Mdina, the military Order of St. John in Valletta, or the British naval command, which also made Valletta its Mediterranean headquarters. Power was concentrated where defence was strongest and access to the sea, the islands' lifeline and primary vulnerability, was most secure.

The shift from Mdina to Valletta represents the most significant transition in this narrative. It was more than just a change of address; it was a fundamental reorientation of the island's focus. Mdina, the inland fortress, looked inward. Its power was rooted in land ownership and feudal tradition. Valletta, by contrast, looked outward to the sea. Its power was based on maritime trade, naval strength, and international connections. This move to the coast reflected Malta's growing importance as a naval bastion, a role that would define it for the next four centuries under both the Knights and the British.

This transition was not without tension. The Maltese nobility, with their ancient privileges and deep roots in Mdina, were reluctant to cede their influence to the cosmopolitan, multilingual Order of Knights in their new coastal city. The Church, too, was divided, leading to the unusual situation of having two great cathedrals: St. Paul's in Mdina, the ancient seat of the Bishop of Malta, and St. John's in Valletta, which served the Knights and is now a co-cathedral. This duality is a stone-carved reminder of the historical tug-of-war between the old capital and the new.

The story of these three cities is also a story of architecture as a language of power. The narrow, winding streets of Mdina, a legacy of its Arab past, were designed for shade and defence in an age of swords and arrows. Its palaces combine Sicilian Norman sobriety with later Baroque flourishes. Valletta, in contrast, is a symphony of the Baroque. Its grid plan, grand auberges, and the overwhelming opulence of St. John's Co-Cathedral were all designed to project the wealth, piety, and military might of the Order of St. John. It is a city as theatre, a stage for the grand drama of a Crusading order.

In Gozo, the Cittadella's architecture is almost purely military. Its formidable bastions, its sally ports, and its commanding position speak of a singular, overriding purpose: survival. Within its walls, the architecture is more modest, a blend of vernacular styles with the fine Baroque Cathedral at its heart. The town of Victoria below is a charming mix of older, narrow streets around the main squares and more recent developments, reflecting its growth as the modern heart of the island. Each city's physical form tells you exactly what it was built for and who it was built to serve.

Throughout this book, we will trace the individual timelines of these three remarkable cities. We will begin with the ancient origins of Mdina, exploring its life as the Roman Melite and the medieval Città Notabile. We will witness its crucial, though often overlooked, role during the Great Siege and examine the architectural jewels that lie within its silent walls. We will then turn our attention to the dramatic founding of Valletta, exploring the genius of its design and the incredible speed with which it was constructed. We will step inside its magnificent palaces and auberges, and sail through its lifeline, the Grand Harbour.

Our journey will then take us to Gozo, to uncover the story of Rabat and its ever-watchful Cittadella. We will learn of its tragic devastation and its remarkable rebirth, and understand its central role in the social and economic life of the sister island. Finally, we will bring the stories together, comparing the paths of these three capitals, examining their roles as cultural symbols, and considering the challenges of preserving their unique heritage in the 21st century. It is a narrative that spans thousands of years, encompassing sieges and earthquakes, faith and politics, art and war. It is the story of how a tiny nation, through its three distinct capitals, has made a mark on history far greater than its size would suggest.

Long before the first stone of a formal city was laid, before any walls were raised to defy the horizon, the choice of Mdina as a center of human activity was a geographical inevitability. Nature itself had set the stage. The city occupies a commanding position on a wedge-shaped plateau, a natural fortification rising some 150 meters above the surrounding landscape in the heart of the island of Malta. This elevated perch offered its earliest inhabitants two crucial advantages that have dictated the course of Maltese history: security and perspective. From this vantage point, a watchful eye could be kept on the sweeping plains below and, most importantly, the encircling sea from which both sustenance and danger invariably came.

The story of this ancient hilltop does not begin with the written word or grand monuments, but with the scattered and subtle clues left by its prehistoric residents. Archaeological evidence suggests that the plateau and its environs have been inhabited since prehistory, with some discoveries pointing to human activity in the area dating back to over 4000 BC. By the Bronze Age, this naturally defensible rock had become a significant place of refuge for the island's population. Recent excavations in the neighbouring area of Rabat have unearthed traces of a substantial Bronze Age settlement, pushing the origins of the community back to at least the 10th century BCE, hundreds of years before the arrival of the first foreign colonists.

These early inhabitants were part of a wider Bronze Age culture that had spread across the islands. They were a people who, having seemingly displaced or replaced the earlier megalithic temple builders, introduced metal tools and weaponry to Malta. They were agriculturalists, cultivating the unforgiving land and storing their grain in rock-cut, bell-shaped silos, many of which still exist today. Their settlements, like the one on the Mdina plateau, were strategically chosen on high, defensible ground, a clear indication that life in the Bronze Age Mediterranean was often precarious and fraught with peril. The very choice of this hill was a statement of intent: a desire to endure.

It was the Phoenicians, those master seafarers and traders from the Levant, who transformed the Bronze Age refuge into a formal, fortified town. Arriving around the 8th century BC, they recognized the immense strategic value of the plateau. Here, they founded a city they called Maleth, a name that may mean 'shelter' or 'refuge'—an apt description for the secure haven they established. Maleth became the center of their Maltese colony, a vital stop on their extensive trade routes that crisscrossed the Mediterranean. The Phoenicians enclosed the settlement and parts of what is now Rabat with walls, laying the foundational footprint of Malta's first capital.

The Phoenician presence marked a new chapter for the island. They were not just transient traders but settlers who brought with them their culture, their gods, and their sophisticated commercial networks. While Malta lacked precious metals or other obvious resources, its strategic location was a prize in itself, offering a safe harbor and a resupply point for Phoenician ships. Funerary evidence from this period suggests a gradual colonization process, with an elite social class establishing itself on the island. The city of Maleth, secure on its hilltop, was the heart of this new domain, the first defined capital on Maltese soil.

As the power of the Phoenician homeland waned, its most successful colony, Carthage in modern-day Tunisia, rose to prominence, extending its influence over the Western Mediterranean. Malta, and its capital Maleth, naturally fell within this new Punic sphere. For several centuries, the island was a Carthaginian possession, a period about which historical records are sparse but whose legacy is etched into the island's culture and language. The strategic importance of Maleth remained undiminished, serving as the administrative core of the island under Carthaginian rule.

The winds of change blew fiercely across the Mediterranean with the rise of a new, formidable power: Rome. The struggle for dominance between Carthage and Rome, known as the Punic Wars, would irrevocably alter the destiny of Malta. In 218 BC, during the Second Punic War, the island fell to the Roman Republic with little resistance. The Roman consul Tiberius Sempronius Longus sailed his fleet to the island, and the Carthaginian commander surrendered, ushering in centuries of Roman rule. The Romans, recognizing the city's established importance, made it their administrative center.

The Romans renamed the city Melite, a Latinization of the earlier Greek name for the island, which may have been derived from the word for honey. Under Roman administration, Melite flourished and grew significantly. The Punic-Roman city was much larger than the fortified Mdina we see today, with its boundaries extending well into modern-day Rabat. It was a proper Roman city, adorned with the architectural and cultural hallmarks of the vast empire to which it now belonged. Very few visible remains of its public buildings, such as temples and churches, have survived.

The most substantial archaeological insight into Roman Melite comes from the Domus Romana, the remains of an aristocratic townhouse discovered by accident in 1881 just outside the present walls of Mdina. Dating back to the 1st century BC, this residence provides a vivid glimpse into the sophisticated lifestyle of the city's elite. Although little of the house's structure remains, its beautifully preserved mosaic floors are considered among the finest in the western Mediterranean, comparable to those found in Pompeii and Sicily. The intricate designs, including a famous depiction of two doves drinking from a bowl, speak of wealth and refined taste.

The discoveries at the Domus Romana were not limited to mosaics. Archaeologists unearthed fragments of painted wall plaster imitating colored marbles, fine statues of the imperial family, and a host of personal artifacts. These include delicately crafted bone hairpins, glassware, pottery, and bath accessories, all of which help to build a picture of daily life in an affluent Roman household. The presence of statues depicting Emperor Claudius and his family is particularly significant, as such items were rarely found in private homes, suggesting the owner held a high-ranking official role in the city's administration.

Further excavations in the vicinity of the Domus Romana continue to expand our understanding of Melite's urban layout. Recent projects have unearthed parts of other Roman houses, some with walls still standing to a considerable height, along with pottery, glass, and animal bones that shed light on the diet and lifestyle of the inhabitants. These findings confirm that Melite was not a remote provincial backwater but a thriving Roman city, integrated into the vast economic and cultural network of the Empire.

During the Roman period, Melite held a privileged status. Initially, it was a foederata civitas, an allied city, which meant its inhabitants were considered partners rather than conquered subjects. This allowed them to retain their own laws and even mint their own coins. While Latin and the Roman religion were introduced, the older Punic language and culture persisted for a considerable time. Later, Melite was elevated to the status of a municipium, granting it the same rights and responsibilities as other cities throughout the Roman Empire.

It was during this era of Roman peace and prosperity that a pivotal event is said to have occurred, one that would forever shape the spiritual identity of the Maltese islands. According to the Acts of the Apostles in the Bible, in 60 AD, the Apostle Paul was shipwrecked on the island while being transported to Rome to face trial. Tradition holds that he found refuge in a grotto located in what is now Rabat, on the outskirts of the city of Melite. This grotto, now a revered site of pilgrimage, became one of the earliest places of Christian worship in Malta.

The biblical account describes how Paul was welcomed by the island's governor, Publius, whose palace is traditionally believed to have stood on the site now occupied by Mdina's cathedral. Paul is said to have miraculously cured Publius's father of a fever, an act that led to the governor's conversion to Christianity. Publius is revered as Malta's first bishop and saint. This foundational story of St. Paul's sojourn has profoundly influenced Maltese culture, establishing a deep-rooted connection to the Christian faith that has endured for two millennia.

The ancient city of Melite, therefore, was not merely an administrative capital but also the cradle of Christianity in Malta. Below the ground of modern Rabat lie extensive complexes of catacombs, underground burial chambers used by early Christians who, in accordance with Roman law, could not bury their dead within the city walls. These subterranean cemeteries, with their ritualistic halls and simple tombs, provide tangible evidence of a growing Christian community in the shadow of the Roman capital. They served not only for burial but also as secret places for worship during times of persecution.

The physical extent of Roman Melite underscores the prosperity of the period. Sprawling across the plateau and the gentle slopes below, it was a city far more expansive than the tightly coiled fortress that would succeed it. Its citizens enjoyed the benefits of Roman engineering and infrastructure, and its leaders governed an island that, while small, was a secure and established part of the Roman world. For centuries, the ancient hilltop that had first been chosen for its defensive attributes served as the peaceful administrative heart of a loyal Roman province.

However, the immense stability of the Roman Empire would not last forever. As the Western Empire began to crumble in the 5th century AD, the Maltese islands, like so many other provinces, faced an uncertain future. Historical records for this period are scarce, but it is clear that the islands were incorporated into the succeeding Byzantine Empire by 535 AD. Melite remained the island's administrative center, but the city was entering a new, more turbulent phase of its existence, one that would see it contract and refortify against new threats emerging across the Mediterranean. The sprawling, open city of the Roman era was destined to give way to the more compact, defensible fortress of the medieval world.