If you wander the charming streets of Rabat, you’ll come across a building that today houses the city’s national archive (it’s not far at all from the Church of St. Francis). On its elegant facade, you’ll notice an arch, and below it, a strange window with a spinning wheel built into it.
What is this window, and what was it used for? Let me solve that mystery for you today.
What exactly was a “Hospital”?
Long before the building housed Rabat’s archive, it belonged to the city’s hospital. And to be honest, the word “hospital” doesn’t really capture what this place was. In the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries, a “Hospital” described a shelter where people on the margins of society (the poor, the mentally ill, former prostitutes and others) found refuge alongside the sick. A good example is the pair of hospitals Bicêtre and Salpêtrière, which before they housed patients served as shelters for the poor, retired prostitutes and the mentally ill.
One of the most defenseless groups throughout history has always been orphaned children, especially infants. In many cases, children lost their parents to illness or an accident, but in plenty of other cases, the child was born out of wedlock and neither parent wanted, or was able, to raise it.
One of the most famous examples of this is the philosopher Jean le Rond d’Alembert (1717-1783), who was abandoned as an infant on the steps of a church by his mother, the socialite and courtesan Claudine Guérin de Tencin (1682-1749), because he was born from an affair outside of marriage with the Chevalier Destouches.
These homes for abandoned children were, as I mentioned, called “Hospitals,” and their purpose was to raise these children and provide the boys with a good education, or arrange a good marriage match for the girls. The most famous of these orphanages, as far as I know, is the Ospedale della Pietà in Venice, which became famous thanks to its music teacher, Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741), who composed many wonderful works of music within its walls. Let’s listen to a short excerpt from one of Vivaldi’s most famous sacred works, composed especially for the orphan girls he taught:
Solving the Mystery of Rabat’s Window
Now that we’ve made a quick detour to Venice, let’s get back to Rabat to understand what that mysterious window in the hospital building was actually for.
One of the biggest problems facing orphanages like the ones I described above was essentially logistical: how could a baby be left in a way that kept the mother’s identity hidden, so as to avoid a scandal? In d’Alembert’s case, which I mentioned earlier, his mother left him on the church steps, knocked on the door, and ran off. Luckily for d’Alembert, it wasn’t a particularly cold or rainy day, and one of the priests opened the door quickly. But what would have happened to that baby if no one had been there at that moment? He could have gotten soaked and fallen ill, or even been snatched by a stray dog.
In Rabat, they solved this problem with the window, known as “La Ruota,” that we saw at the start of this article. When a woman wanted to give up her baby for adoption, all she had to do was place the infant inside the round mechanism and pull the handle. The device would rotate 180 degrees, so the baby would end up inside the building. At the same time, a bell would ring, triggered by the mechanism, alerting the shelter’s staff that a new baby had arrived. This way, a mother could safely give up her baby for adoption without ever revealing her identity.
This hospital, which also served as an orphanage, has existed in Rabat since the 14th century, and the window itself has been there since 1615. Babies given up to this orphanage were, once grown, sent to learn a trade at Fort Ricasoli, while the girls learned embroidery and housework until the age of 20. By the way, one of the most common surnames in Malta is Spiteri, and historians believe it’s a shortened form of “Hospitalieri,” meaning these families descend from babies taken in at this very orphanage.
Starting in the 19th century, when the British began ruling Malta, the number of unwanted pregnancies on the island dropped (maybe it was the Victorians’ frigid attitude toward sex? An interesting theory, anyway). Use of the wheel stopped completely by the end of the 19th century, and in cases of unwanted pregnancies, the Maltese did everything they could to arrange a quick marriage, or in the worst case, the child would be handed over to the police.
And if you’re in Malta and want to see an “illustration” of how the ruota was used, you’re welcome to visit the Mdina Torture Museum, which I wrote about in my walking tour of Mdina.
Looking for more things to do in Malta?
As you’ve probably already discovered (and if not, you will soon), there’s so much to do in Malta that it’s hard to choose among all the attractions and activities. But don’t worry, I’ve done the work for you and put together the very best attractions and activities. You can find them in the article What to Do in Malta?
Looking for a hotel in Malta?
I’ve gathered a few recommended hotels to help you avoid an unpleasant surprise. But before I give you my recommendations, there’s one important question to answer first: where in Malta should you actually stay? You’ll find the answer to that question, along with my hotel recommendations for Malta, in the article Where to Look for a Hotel in Malta.
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