In the 19th century, the monks at the convent annexed to the Ta’ Giezu church in Valletta would help young boys stay out of mischief during carnival. They would pray together and then give the boys food. In 1823, this act of charity turned into a catastrophe.

Every year during the last few days of carnival the monks would gather all boys under the age of 15. The boys, from Valletta and the three harbour cities, would first make their way to Floriana for mass before walking back to Valletta¹. In 1823, this took place on Sunday 11 February.

The Prince of Capua had arrived in Malta 3 years before this disaster.

They headed to the Giezu convent on St John’s street^{1 2}. The monks there used to give bread and fruit to children after carnival. This was a government-sponsored scheme, topped up by private donations³. The boisterous procession must have been keen to get back especially since Malta was going through a famine³.

By the time they arrived in Valletta it was already sunset², so it must have been around 17:30⁴. The vestry door leading to St Ursula’s street was closed². The monks knew the wily children would use it to run out and re-enter the convent from St John’s street^{2 3}. The monks were generous but they didn’t like anyone taking them for a ride.

Tragedy

A gang of men broke into the convent from the St Ursula entrance² in an attempt to steal food from the children¹. The monks locked the door once more². After this hullabaloo, the only kerosene light in the corridor went out², caused by the energetic boys who threw their caps at it³.

The crowd of people felt around in the dark. Some children tried to leave by the St Ursula door but missed their step on the short flight of stairs by the door^{1 2}. Many boys slipped and fell on each other, crushing whomever was first^{2 3}.

At the other end, monks distributing food heard the shrieks and cries^{2 3}. They couldn’t help in the dark and heard cries of parents wailing in St Ursula Street by the door. The parents could hear the cries of their sons³ and tried to force the door open. The door opens inwards³ and they couldn’t¹ make any headway.

Some rushed into the church^{2 3}. They were too late as the pile of bodies filled the staircase till it was level with the corridor¹.

The whole episode lasted about 20 minutes. Many died of suffocation. Some records claim 110^{2 3}, contemporary author MacGill put the figure at 150¹ dead.

Recollections

A British soldier who was there wrote home about this carnival catastrophe⁵:

When the place was cleared and the doors were opened, the dead and dying were brought out into the streets … for thirty yards each side of the door [was] strewn with children, some dead, others dying, and others showing symptoms of recovering. Women running up and down, mad with despair seeing their little ones, and to add to the misery of the scene it was dark … When a woman would examine her supposed child she would find it was not her own, it was then laid on the ground and the poor disconsolate  mother would rush again amongst the little unfortunates to seek her own. I shall never forget this night, cries of despair were uttered by thousands and [were] heard distinctly at Fort Ricasoli and Cottonera.  

The poor monks must have felt mortified that their actions, the famine and people’s greed caused such heartache during this carnival.

References

1. A hand book, or guide, for strangers visiting Malta; Thomas MacGill; Malta; 1839; pp. 62[↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩]
2. Tragic accidents in our history that claimed young lives; Eddie Attard; Times Of Malta; 2019-04-07[↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩]
3. Melancholy affair; Niles weekly register, volume 24; 1823-05-24[↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩][↩]
4. Sunrise, sunset and day length in Valletta, Malta; TimeAndDate.Com; (Retrieved 2019-11-26) [↩]
5. Valletta. Malta: Women, History, Books and Places; Susanna Hoe; Oxford; 2015; pp. 371–372[↩]

Remember: links were correct at time of publication.