It’s 1878, in a grand house in Mdina’s silent heart. Moonlight barely pierces the narrow staircase where young Ċetta, seven years old, creeps barefoot, drawn by whispers from the shadows. Beneath the steps, she finds a pile of sweets, their sugary scent irresistible. A figure emerges—a man in Turkish robes, eyes glinting like polished obsidian. “Take a sweet, little one,” he murmurs, “but keep my secret.” Ċetta nods, savouring the treat. Upstairs, her father finds a gold coin in his coat, unearned, gleaming. By morning, Ċetta whispers of the figure to her friends, and her father boasts at the village bar. At dawn, his coin is a writhing snail, its slime trailing across the floor. That night, footsteps thunder through the house, doors slam, and a child’s fever spikes. Ċetta’s nanna clutches her rosary, whispering, “Il-Ħares is angry… It-Tork tat-Taraġ never forgives a loose tongue.”
Was it a guardian’s trick? A spirit’s curse? Or Malta’s past weaving vengeance into the present? Welcome to Eerie Tales with Cosette, where we unravel the mysteries haunting our islands—and, soon, the shadowed corners of the world. Tonight, we face Il-Ħares and its shadow, It-Tork tat-Taraġ, watchers who gift sweets to children, gold to adults, and snails to those who betray their secrets.
I’m Cosette, your guide through the whispers of Malta’s soul. On Eerie Tales with Cosette, we delve into the folklore etched in our limestone streets—tales of spirits, secrets, and serpentine vengeance. As a Maltese storyteller, I’m tethered to our island’s enigmas, though the world’s eerie legends beckon for future episodes. From Valletta’s shadowed alleys to far-off realms of myth, we’ll uncover stories that chill and enchant. Tonight, we explore Il-Ħares and It-Tork tat-Taraġ, guardians who watch our homes, offering sweets to children and gold to adults, but cursing betrayers with slimy retribution. Dim the lights, tread softly on the stairs, and let’s descend into their domain.
The Origins of Il-Ħares and It-Tork tat-Taraġ
"Ħares"—the word hisses, meaning “to watch” or “to guard” in Maltese. Il-Ħares is no fleeting ghost but a spirit bound to the hearth, fields, and sacred wells of Malta, shaping our islands’ fate for millennia. Mikiel Anton Vassalli, in his 1796 lexicon, described it as a “domestic spirit", often appearing as a small black snake, its form echoing Arabic jinn—shape-shifters guarding sacred spaces, or Phoenician sentinels of the underworld. Yet Il-Ħares is fluid, shifting into a shadow, a whisper, or a Turkish man, weaving Malta’s Phoenician, Roman, Arab, and Christian threads into a single enigma. It showers children with sweets and grants adults gold coins, but demands absolute secrecy—betray its trust, and those coins, only those it gifts, turn to snails.
It-Tork tat-Taraġ, the “Turk of the Stairs", is Il-Ħares in human guise, born from the Knights Hospitaller era when North African captives served Maltese noble households, tending homes and children. In death, these “Turks” lingered as spirits, sleeping under staircases or in cellars—their former quarters—offering sweets to children and gold to adults, guarding the house if kept secret and orderly. Their image draws from statues at stair bases, carved as dark-skinned figures holding lanterns to ward off evil, dubbed “Tork” by locals. Malta Unwrapped highlights their signature punishment: only the gold they gift to adults transforms into snails when secrets are spilt. Dr John Vella, curator at Bir Mula Heritage, describes both as “threshold spirits"—Il-Ħares is universal across Maltese homes. They echo global guardians—Japan’s zashiki-warashi, bringing prosperity, or Ireland’s brownies, rewarding tidy homes—but in Malta, they carry our history’s scars, from slavery to sacred rituals.
Historical Context and Cultural Significance
Why snakes and Turkish figures? Malta’s folklore is a mosaic of its conquests. The snake of Il-Ħares traces to Phoenician worship, where serpents guarded underworld realms, and Christian symbolism, where they embody sin and salvation. The Turkish man of It-Tork tat-Taraġ reflects the Knights’ era, when Ottoman conflicts and enslaved North Africans shaped Maltese life. Statues at staircases, often misnamed "Turks", became folklore’s face for the Tork, blending servitude with supernatural duty. Stephan D. Mifsud’s Maltese Bestiary calls them “house genies", tying homes to ancestral spirits. Their gifts—sweets for children, gold for adults—mirror offerings at Maltese festas, honouring saints and spirits. The snail curse, unique to their lore, warns against greed or betrayal, a lesson rooted in Malta’s survivalist ethos. Families left milk or bread by doors or corners of the home, not just for Il-Ħares but to appease any watcher, a tradition fading yet alive in village tales.
Tales of Il-Ħares
Let’s weave tales of Il-Ħares, the serpent guardian. In 18th-century Żebbuġ, a woman swept her courtyard, striking a black snake with her broom. She wept, fearing her Ħares. That night, flames devoured her home. In 1953 in Siġġiewi, at a quċċija, toddler Maria fell from a table. Grainy 8mm footage showed her landing safely, lifted by unseen hands—a shadowy snake coiled in the frame. Her nanna whispered, “Il-Ħares saved her.” In Għargħur, a farmer found a gold coin by a well, gifted by Il-Ħares. He bragged at the market; by dusk, it was a snail, his fields withered, though his own money remained untouched.
In the 1930s, in Rabat, the Xuereb family left milk by the door. Young Ġanni, sceptical, poured it out. That night, footsteps shook the roof, and his father’s gifted coins turned into snails. Crops failed until the milk was restored. Ġanni’s sister glimpsed a shadow—snake or man?—slipping into darkness. In Paola, a child found sweets in a corner of the home, a gift from Il-Ħares, but spoke of it; the next day, the family’s savings were safe, but the father’s gifted coins were snails.
Tales of It-Tork tat-Taraġ
Now, It-Tork tat-Taraġ, the Turkish guardian. In 19th-century Valletta, the Cassar children found sweets under their staircase, left by a Turkish figure who played hide-and-seek in the shadows. Their father received gold coins, unasked, bringing prosperity. The Tork demanded secrecy. When a child gossiped, sweets vanished, and the father’s coins became snails. In the 1980s, Mdina, a widow, Karmni, neglected her staircase niche. A Turkish shadow pinned her to her bed at midnight, hissing warnings. She lit a candle to St Agatha, swept the stairs, and peace returned.
In Birgu, in the 1900s, a merchant’s son found sweets under the stairs, while his mother received coins from the Turk. She told her priest; the coins turned into snails, and doors slammed nightly until she prayed for forgiveness. In Fort Ricasoli, two men were shown gold by a Turkish haras. They boasted; their coins became snails, and unseen blows bruised them. In Gozo, a snake under stairs morphed into a Turkish man, leaving sweets for children and money for adults but slamming doors when secrets were spilt.
The Nature of the Guardians
Il-Ħares and It-Tork tat-Taraġ demand respect—milk by doors, candles in niches, tidy homes, silence. Il-Ħares’ snake form bridges the Phoenician underworld and Christian duality—sin and salvation. The Tork, tied to slavery’s ghosts, reflects the Knights’ era statues at the staircases. They gift sweets to children and gold to adults, but only their coins turn into snails if betrayed. Malta Unwrapped notes this curse as their hallmark mischief, a warning against greed or indiscretion. Like India’s naga, guarding sacred spaces, or Scotland’s brownies, rewarding order, they’re protectors and tricksters. Dr Vella calls them “threshold spirits", enforcing tradition in a land where survival meant honouring the past.
Modern Encounters
Are these guardians fading? Not in 2025. In Mellieħa, 2024, a family removed a staircase niche during renovations. Hisses echoed, children’s sweets vanished, and the father’s gifted coin turned into a snail. A priest blessed the house; the niche was restored, and peace returned. In Valletta, a tenant found sweets under the stairs but woke to snails after gossiping about Tork’s gold to a neighbour. In Żurrieq, a shopkeeper received a mysterious coin in 2023, only to find it was a snail after mentioning it at church. Global kin—Japan’s yurei and Mexico’s La Llorona—echo them, but these are Malta’s pulse.
Closing Reflections
Il-Ħares and It-Tork tat-Taraġ are Malta’s shadows—slithering through Għar Dalam’s caves, lurking in Mosta’s stairwells, hissing in Paola’s doors. They gift sweets to children and gold to adults, but curse loose lips with snails. Light a candle, sweep the stairs, keep their secrets. For they watch, and they never forget.
Thank you for joining Eerie Tales with Cosette. If these watchers chilled you, share your stories below—have you felt their gaze? Subscribe and ring the bell for Malta’s mysteries and global folklore ahead. Next, we’ll wander through quiet villages where Il-Ġawġaw plays its mischievous tricks. Until then, tread softly; keep the door clear—the guardians are near.
