O’Hara certainly did nothing to ingratiate himself either with his fellow captives or with his captors, demanding the free passage of his surgeon, Dr Graham, to attend his wound, accompanied by a servant and his effects. Dugommier, to his credit, sent an emissary to Fort Malbousquet with letters from both O’Hara and other prisoners.
Accounts, mostly apocryphal, later abounded regarding attempts by both sides to capitalize on the situation by making extravagant demands for exchange of prisoners. In particular, these involved the wife and daughter of General Lapoype, who had, from the outset, been detained in Toulon. In view of the general’s long spells of comparative inactivity, one may indeed speculate that this factor weighed heavily upon him; that resolute action on his part might result in reprisal. He was, however, not replaced.
In the event, the terms of capacity for each of these celebrities were not particularly long. Madame Lapoype and daughter were confined with other women detainees in the Saint-Ésprit hospital, in the charge of the National Guard. Probably through the connivance of a republican sympathiser, a group of fourteen disappeared late on 7 December. These included the mother and daughter, who were lodged in a safe house until the 18th, when they were able to slip out of the town in the midst of the general confusion then obtaining.
General O’Hara was moved to Paris where, following a lengthy interrogation, he was confined in the Luxembourg. Subjected to no worse than a few indignities, he spent about three years here until repatriated in a direct exchange for the French General Rochambeau.
THE AFFAIR OF 30 November marked a definite watershed in the fortunes of the allies at Toulon. Until then, the republicans had been on the back foot for, having arrived flushed with victory at Marseille, Avignon and Lyon, they had, for the first time, encountered regular army units and had discovered that sheer numbers and Revolutionary fervour were no match for discipline and good military practice. Now, with professional generalship and artillery support, they had worsted the allies in open battle. And still their reinforcements flowed in.
For the allies, despondency was in the air. General Dundas took over from O’Hara but the overall strength of his forces was little augmented. A final batch of Neapolitans, 566 men of the Messapia Battalion, arrived at Toulon on 26 November, their passage from Gaeta having taken twelve days. Hood, however, remained indignant at London’s intransigence regarding the 300 men of the 30th Regiment, now lost to him by virtue of their departure in service as marines aboard the St George and three 74s.
The public mood in the town no longer reflected confidence in the allied cause and hope for the future. There was considerable resentment that the comte de Provence had not been given permission to come. It was seen as inconsistent that the town was being held in trust for the imprisoned Louis XVII yet his rightful representative, the regent, should be denied access. This called into question the true British motives.
In the town, the population had been roughly doubled by the influx of refugees, creating friction over accommodation and priorities. The situation was not helped by the military having commandeered public buildings for billets and having introduced a variety of illnesses and afflictions for which there was little available medication. A general apathy prevailed, the people now being dependent upon the occupying forces for both their protection and their subsistence. Normal life had been suspended and matters had been largely removed from the control of individuals.
Thanks to allied sea control, the quantity of foodstuffs was sufficient, but it was difficult to control prices in the absence of adequate hard currency. Assignats were still in circulation but had now lost most of their value. Public employees benefited by having a guaranteed proportion of their wages being paid in coin. The General Committee, in fairness, was obliged to impose price controls but it was found in practice that only those on bread, meat and fish could be enforced. Even this proved to be impossible in the case of bread for, once the republicans cut off the flow to most of the town’s flour mills during October, the supply of basics was intermittent. Employees of the arsenal could be paid partly in bread supplied by the navy’s bakers but, for the populace, prices rose simply because the town’s suppliers refused to accept any further paper money.
Suspicion of who favoured whom was rife, and with some reason, for the republicans were becoming more obviously active in trying to establish a form of resistance movement. This began in a small way, as instanced by the arrest of a young fruit seller, one Marie Coste, who had been searched on entering the town, proving to have letters and copies of the new constitution concealed in her basket. To dissuade any other would-be collaborator, the General Committee acted rapidly, publicly and severely, the hapless girl being despatched on the gallows that had replaced the hated guillotine.
The shadowy head of this embryonic movement was named Adet, who later became a French diplomat in the United States. His efforts were much hampered because many on his recommended list of contacts were either already detained or inaccessible, the latter either serving aboard French-manned ships or in distant outposts on the perimeter.
Intercepted correspondence, intended for those engaged in the importation of Genoese grain, requested information on the number of troops being shipped in, and on long-term allied plans, specifically whether the intention was to defend the place indefinitely, to abandon it or to destroy it. The letters referred to an imminent general assault on the town by the republican armies and of a simultaneous insurrection, commencing in the arsenal.
A letter from the représentants with Dugommier’s army, addressed to the Committee of Public Safety, enumerated ways in which the seeds of disquiet were being sown throughout the town. It forecast that future correspondence would be ‘datée des ruines de Toulon’.
Previously anxious to encourage life to return to a sort of normality, the military authorities now had to tighten and enforce security. Citizens were checked randomly for their identity and details of their business. House searches were initiated on the basis of information received. All weapons in private hands had to be handed in. Gunsmiths had to submit inventories of their stock and, although they were apparently permitted to retain it, were prohibited from making any further sales. Movement, in and out of the city gates, was tightly controlled and military patrols were stepped up. Cumulatively, these measures served to create a general feeling of alarm in the populace, placated little by the General Committee’s assurances that they were temporary, and were being imposed only until the situation was stabilized.
ON ARRIVAL IN LONDON, Lord Mulgrave reported immediately to the secretary of state, Henry Dundas. His assessment of the situation at Toulon was no longer optimistic and, for the first time, alerted the government to the possibility of defeat. Dundas immediately (23 November) wrote to Hood (date of reception not known), detailing the measures that should be taken in the event of disaster. They echoed clearly those already despatched to Admiral Langara by the Spanish government.
I need scarcely remind Y.Lp. of the propriety … of having the French ships captured at Toulon so situated that if you was [sic] obliged to abandon the place none of the ships or arsenals … should be permitted to fall into the hands of the enemy. The arsenals must be destroyed and the ships burnt if they cannot be carried with you. I hope they may be brought away, and in such circumstances as I have referred to this would be perfectly justifiable under the nicest and strictest interpretation of the terms of the agreement entered into by Y.Lp. with the people of Toulon.
The admiral probably did not need to be reminded of his obligations, and would certainly have baulked at London’s continued use of such words as ‘captured’. A phrase such as ‘the nicest and strictest interpretation’ also suggests a wavering about the borderline of legality.
ONCE THE ELATION OF action cooled, more mature consideration by either side of the battle of 30 November resulted in more qualified conclusions. The French had to accept that, in the opening phase, a considerably inferior allied force had routed the republicans in an est
ablished location. Had the allies then maintained their cohesion, there was nothing between them and Dugommier’s headquarters at Ollioules, less than 3 miles distant. Even when they had gained the initiative, the republicans were still unable to break the narrow line of defence that the Sardinians established before Malbousquet. Dugommier expressed himself extremely dissatisfied with the performance and conduct of his troops, even through a difficult situation had been resolved favourably.
To those of the allied high command, General O’Hara, with his nervous excited manner and his enduring pessimism, represented little loss. Thaon de Revel, no mean soldier himself, praised O’Hara faintly, crediting him with all the necessary martial qualities except those essential for a commander-in-chief. Sir Gilbert Elliot had been far from impressed by him but, regrettably, thought little more of David Dundas, his successor. Although he rated him as relatively sensible and steady, he thought that his age and state of health were against him. Also, like O’Hara, Dundas did not believe in the success of the allied mission (and, indeed, lost no time in advising Hood to pull out while it could still be done in an orderly fashion).
The importance of Fort Malbousquet to the defence of the western approaches to Toulon cannot be overestimated and, although it had been defeated, the enemy thrust on 30 November caused considerable concern. Open at its back, the strongpoint was vulnerable to an encircling movement and, to frustrate such an occurrence, the allies reactivated and improved an old fortification on the small rise of Missiessy. This was situated some 750 yards south-east of Malbousquet but, being within the comfortable range of the French batteries on Les Arènes, suffered intermittent bombardment.
Food supplies began to be a major preoccupation for both sides. Letters from the représentants to their colleagues in neighbouring provinces reflect the problems of feeding their armies in a region already stripped of supplies. By early December it was apparent that Dugommier and Lapoype must soon resolve the issue or begin to disperse their hungry forces, now estimated by them to be nearing 40,000 strong. Within the perimeter, the British commissioners were still hoping that substantial reinforcement might yet materialize from Austria, although the provision of adequate rations for those already present was obviously causing some strain on available shipping capacity.
Elliot, in a late November letter to Dundas, sought to make a virtue out of a necessity while, simultaneously, alluding to the tight fiscal constraint exerted by London. ‘There are, in this town’, he wrote,
many thousands of young men consuming provisions, without any advantage to the common cause, although perfectly capable of service … The expence [sic] must, it is true, be borne by England in the first instance but, if they prove useful, they will certainly be the cheapest troops His Majesty can employ at Toulon. The charge of raising them would be very inconsiderable, there will be no expence [sic] for transporting them from distant places, and there will be neither half-pay nor subsidy.
To command this proposed body of extra fighting troops, Elliot received approval to recruit ‘about twenty or thirty emigrant officers of known merit … now in Italy’. This initiative was, however, offset by the necessity to disarm much of the deeply infiltrated and unreliable National Guard.
Elliot’s own assessments of the situation soon echoed the underlying gloom: ‘I cannot help … confessing that the possession of this place seems to be precarious, and that every day is critical. The quality of a great majority of the troops is such, that they cannot possibly be depended on; and yet, the most important posts must, of necessity, be entrusted in a great measure to them.’ Then, with respect to the enemy: ‘Their numbers are encreasing [sic] and their preparations of every kind advancing … and if our force should not increase proportionably in much less time than at present seems possible, the event cannot be answered for.’
Small parties of allied reinforcement still materialized, the very last group of Neapolitans arriving on 5 December. Lacking battle experience, they were accompanied by the Franco-German Marshal de Gambs, who had been sent as their senior officer and to instil a coherent sense of discipline into the Neapolitan force as a whole. His military reputation preceded him but he was never able to produce any noticeable effect on his troops, who were widely scattered around the perimeter.
If a mobile reserve needed to be committed to reinforce any threatened sector of the defences, it remained Hood’s practice to land seamen in numbers sufficient to police the town in the absence of the military. He therefore regretted the loss of Linzee’s squadron, sent to Tunis in the vain hope of overawing the pro-French Bey. Once again, other vessels idled in the ports of Liguria in the anticipation that, even now, the promised Austrian troops might arrive, a force which was hoped would prove to be Toulon’s salvation. With the prolonged absence of so many ships, the demands on those remaining were increasingly onerous.
As Sir Gilbert Elliot had observed, the enemy’s preparations were indeed being advanced. Buonaparte, it seems, never lost an opportunity to lobby Dugommier, the Committee of Public Safety, or Carnot, the Convention’s minister of war, as to the definitive plan for defeating the allies in Toulon. He forecast that, subjected to sustained and general attack, the coalition would cut its losses and settle for inflicting what damage it could before evacuating by sea. Dugommier himself was keen to bring the campaign to a close, having been advised by the committee to ‘take l’Aiguillette or merit our disappointment’. As many before, the general knew that the committee’s ‘disappointment’ was not to be lightly courted.
Buonaparte’s plan had been developed somewhat further in that, while he still proposed to make his major thrust at the primary objective, the western promontory, a simultaneous all-out attack by Lapoype should be directed at the Faron massif. The seizure of Fort Mulgrave was still central to the plan and, importantly, Dugommier’s strength was now sufficient to simultaneously pin down the garrison at Malbousquet, preventing any sally designed to relieve Mulgrave. As we have already seen, however, there still existed several variations on this main theme. It was necessary to have a major review to decide on the definitive version, to define which would be primary thrusts and which would be feints and distractions in their support.
Just five days before the abortive allied attack on the batteries on Les Arènes, therefore, Dugommier had called a full council of war, attended by all commanders and senior staff officers. Those present included Lapoype, la Barre, Garnier, du Teil and Mouret, Buonaparte (now adjutant general), Brûlé, Flayelle, la Mothe and Sugny. The final agreed plan reflected the enormous strength that Dugommier, in overall command, had at his disposal. As Buonaparte had demanded, the main attack would be launched against Fort Mulgrave, with a coordinated move against Malbousquet as a distraction. Simultaneously, the Faron Ridge would be seized. Malbousquet would be muzzled sufficiently to allow the establishment nearby of a battery of mortiers à longue portée, effectively howitzers, which would be within range of the town, where panic would ensue from a steady hail of bombs. As a final gesture toward the creation of total confusion, the Cap Brun battery would also be bombarded from a long range. Subsequent meetings on 5 and 11 December further refined the plan as conventionnels laboured to complete the three major batteries, Convention, Poudrière and Farinière atop Les Arènes. This work was finished on the 6th.
To the south of Fort Mulgrave, Buonaparte energetically established three further batteries. These stood virtually shoulder to shoulder and, being within mortar range, were in considerable danger from the fort’s heavy artillery. As was customary, they were named: Jacobins (predictably); Chasse-Coquins* (with grim humour); and, thanks to its particularly dangerous situation, Hommes sans Peur.
Sprawled over the high ground known to the French variously as Le Caire or La Grasse, Fort Mulgrave looked more formidable than it actually was. It had been improved and extended piecemeal under the direction of Brigadier Izquierdo, whose artillery specialist was fully employed at Malbousquet and who lacked also the support of a qualified military
engineer. Overall, the fort was described as having three main redoubts, which could support each other with crossfire.
The republicans had a useful informant, referred to in documents as ‘l’Ingénieur Sardou’. He had already reported on Admiral Trogoff’s recent public announcement which, designed to lift the public mood, stated that 10,000 more allied troops were only awaiting a fair wind. Sardou described Mulgrave in some detail, stating that the redoubts had their banks revetted in earth and timber. Up to 15 feet in height, they were surrounded by deep ditches. The ground between the redoubts was also covered by fire from outworks, or redans. Faced by protective walls and firing through embrasures were a total of twenty-five guns, a mix of 32-, 12- and 8-pounders. Some were stated to be obusiers, or shell guns, and there were mortars in support. The whole was fronted with a deep ditch, either edge of which was protected by chevaux de frise.
Typical of any report on an enemy, the detail was greatly overstated, for Fort Mulgrave’s defences were far from mutually supportive. The position was particularly weak on the enemy’s right. Of its garrison of some 700, about 250 were British, the remainder Spanish and Sardinian. Beyond the fort, located between it and the fortifications at the end of the promontory, was a camp accommodating an estimated 3,000 further troops.
Until the republican armies were positioned and poised for the great assault, it was Buonaparte’s task to soften up Mulgrave. To this end, his batteries worked ceaselessly, despite the attentions of allied warships. So intense was the fire that reports speak of several mortar bombs being occasionally visible simultaneously while in flight.
CAPTAIN HORATIO NELSON in the Agamemnon spent little time in Toulon during the period of occupation and his letters betray a certain ambivalence regarding the eventual outcome. Writing on 1 December to William Locker, the lieutenant-governor of Greenwich Hospital, he noted:
The Fall of Toulon Page 30
