Redcoats Against Napoleon: The 30th Regiment During the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars

By Carole Divall and John Downham

Military histories of the struggle against the French armies of the Revolution and Napoleon often focus on the exploits of elite units and famous individuals, ignoring the essential contribution made by the ordinary soldiers the bulk of the British army. Carole Divall, in this graphic and painstakingly researched account, tells the story of one such hitherto ignored group of fighting men, the 30th Regiment of the Line. She takes their story from one of the opening clashes of the long war, the Siege of Toulon in 1793, to the decisive Battle of Waterloo in 1815. She gives us a fresh perspective on key events the men took part in Massenas retreat from the Lines of Torres Vedras, the bloody storming of Badajoz, the retreat from Burgos, the ordeal of the troops holding the centre of Wellingtons Waterloo position. The regiments history which she describes using some hitherto unpublished and vivid memoirs left by the men themselves and those they fought alongside offers a fascinating insight into the life of British soldiers two centuries ago.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 19, 2009
• ISBN: 9781781594148

Carole Divall

UK

Book preview

Agendo

Chapter 1

The Thirtieth Regiment of the Line

When Ensign Hamilton joined the 30th Regiment, he became a member of a corps with a hundred years of history, going back to 1689 when Sir George Saunderson, baronet, of Saxby, Lincolnshire, who was also Viscount Castleton in the Irish peerage, received a commission from William III to raise a regiment of foot. Saunderson’s estates were in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, which became the source of the earliest recruits. This Lincolnshire connection was still flourishing a century later, and Hamilton began his military career recruiting there while the rest of the regiment was in the West Indies. In June 1689 the new regiment mustered at York, clothed and armed. What might the red-coated ensign have made of his forebears? Their grey coats, waistcoats and breeches, all with purple facings, and their broad-brimmed hats would have seemed curiously outlandish. He would not have envied the laced and plumed hats, the elaborate wigs, lace cravats, knots of ribbons on the shoulders of coats seamed with gold, the embroidered baldrics and silk sashes of his predecessors. Uniform, and war itself, had changed dramatically in the intervening years.

For the next hundred years the new regiment was intermittently on active service, in Europe and beyond. Particularly notable for its uncanny resemblance to the assault on Badajoz more than a century later was the attack on Namur in 1695. ‘The grenadiers marched straight up to the palisades of the covered way and discharged their grenades over them. The 23rd and Saunderson’s [that is, Castleton’s regiment] were the next to come up, the enemy’s fire from the covered way was terrific and while the batteries of the Allies galled the French in their works the French redoubts Epinoise and St Fiacre fired with fatal effect upon the English regiments as they marched up the glacis, but the assailants could not be driven back. Then the French sprang four fougasses on the glacis. The English led backwards as the earth opened and belched forth its deadly load; no man knew whether his next step might place him again on the very nest of one of those fearful messengers of death, yet even this did not deter the British troops from again advancing.’¹ The attack was ultimately successful and Namur was carried, but it was a baptism of blood and fire for the young regiment.

Disbanded in 1698, the regiment was then reformed in 1702 to serve as marines. There were plenty of old faces, but they wore a new uniform, with yellow facings, earning themselves the nickname ‘yellowbellies’, a name still given to Lincolnshire people. Only later did the regiment acquire its more famous title, ‘The Old Three Tens’. After eight years, however, and service across the globe from the West Indies to Spain, they were once more disbanded when the Peace of Utrecht brought the War of the Spanish Succession to an end; a disbandment which brought about the only mutiny in the regiment’s history when the men found themselves seriously in arrears of pay.

The Jacobite resurgence of 1715 saw an urgent need for more troops and the regiment was re-founded for the second time, taking its position as the 30th in the line. As such it continued until 1881. Military memories are long and tenacious, however; even during the second Boer War a sergeant of the first battalion, the East Lancashire Regiment, into which the 30th had been transformed, wrote: ‘We were soldiers, fit successors of the men who, in the Peninsula, at Waterloo, and in the Crimea, had helped to make, and uphold, the proud record of the old XXXth.’²

Once again there was active service, in the Mediterranean, in France, and eventually in the American colonies, but there were also extended periods in Ireland. The army was not popular among civilians unless it was fighting and winning victories abroad, when it was lauded from a distance and its commanders, like the Marquis of Granby or General Wolfe, became national heroes. At home it was regarded as licentious, unruly and expensive, and its numbers were quickly reduced, while as many regiments as that country could reasonably sustain were sent to Ireland where their presence supported the Protestant Ascendancy.

There were other activities which were typical of the period: serving for eight years in Gibraltar; recruiting, mainly in the Eastern Counties and Scotland; even some road-making in Scotland. In 1775, the composition of NCOs and other ranks was 266 English, ninety-eight Scottish, twelve Irish and two foreign. The influx of Irish Catholics had just started as the long-standing embargo on Irish recruits was lifted, but was yet to become a torrent. One other feature of the period was the acquisition of a light company. In 1772, when the regiment was reviewed at Ferrybridge, the light company skirmished in front of the other companies, a novel development of infantry drill.

The War of American Independence broke out in 1775, but the 30th were not involved until 1781. In September of that year they saw action at the battle of Entaw, which produced the heaviest casualties of the war. Both sides claimed victory, but the British held the field. The war against the colonists was stuttering into defeat, however, and in 1782 the regiment was sent first to the Leeward Islands, and then to Jamaica, which was under French attack. Finally, in 1784, it was posted to Dominica. It had also been designated the Cambridgeshire Regiment in a move which gave all the regiments of the line county appellations, although the titles were rarely used outside official correspondence. Nevertheless, the Eastern Counties remained a prime source of recruits until well into the next century.

At this point an impression of the regiment can be gained from the jaundiced recollections of a private soldier, who identifies himself as James Aytoun. He joined the 30th in 1788, and served with them certainly until 1807, since there are references to India in his memoirs. In his opinion the regiment was commanded by officers who were unfit for the purpose. The adjutant was often the only officer present at exercise, while the captain of the light company, Satterthwaite, was a ‘paper’ officer whom Aytoun never saw. His recollections constitute a list of beatings and floggings, stories of officers indifferent to the welfare of their men, and examples of exploitation. It is no wonder, therefore, that he failed to understand the anti-slavery movement in Europe. ‘The negroes have more liberty than the soldiers. The men, as often as may be convenient, trot six or seven miles to a plantation to see a favourite black wench or to dance … A soldier is liable to be flogged if more than a mile from barracks, camp or quarters and if out of barracks after tattoo they are liable to be tried by a court martial and punished.’³ Slaves were too valuable to be ill-treated: soldiers were dispensable. Nevertheless, even Aytoun conceded that matters improved after the outbreak of the French Revolution. New regulations of 1792 and 1797 meant that men were no longer beaten randomly with rattan canes. Instead, all soldiers had to be tried by a court martial, with sworn evidence both for and against. Furthermore, humane officers recognised that contented soldiers were more effective soldiers.

The regiment returned to Europe in 1791, arriving at Portsmouth in March to find Europe on a knife-edge. Things could never be the same after the storming of the Bastille in 1789, and two years later it was obvious that the increasingly extreme position adopted by the revolutionaries in France would prove a threat to all those states which hoped to preserve the status quo. With Europe poised for war, the British anticipated extensive naval activity. In 1793 the 30th was broken up and distributed by company through the fleet to serve yet again as marines. Two companies were on HMS Swiftsure and HMS St Albans, and a detachment was sent to HMS Bellona. All three ships, and others on which men of the 30th subsequently served, were part of the Channel fleet. A further four companies served with Hood’s fleet in the Mediterranean where, according to Aytoun, they were ‘joined by the Spanish fleet and I believe we were in all more than forty ships of the line, besides frigates, sloops and tenders. We cruised on the coasts of Genoa and France till August 28 and then stood in to a landing place a considerable distance from Toulon. We were on boats embarked on the Robust at the time commanded by Commodore Elfinstone [sic] and the Robust pushed into the shore as the pilot advised. We were landed in boats without interruption. We marched through vineyards and the grapes were ripe and French girls brought us, as we passed along, bunches of fine black grapes, which was new to British soldiers.’⁴

Aytoun was among the first British soldiers to be landed in the south of France, in a body of 1,500 marines and soldiers who had been acting as marines. Their purpose was to give support to the Royalists in Toulon who had risen against the revolutionary government in Paris and now depended upon British help to keep them safe from reprisals. The port, which was vital to the French Mediterranean fleet as a supply depot, had already been under Anglo-Spanish blockade before the rebellion broke out. On 27 August the British ships were invited into the harbour. After a day’s hesitation, Admiral Lord Hood went one step further and landed the 1,500 marines, although he had no long-term strategy. Shortly afterwards the Spanish ships joined the British.

The Republican reaction was immediate; a force of 12,000 men under General Carteaux, later augmented by 5,000 men from Italy under General Lapoype, was sent to deal with the situation. Meanwhile, their opponents were also gaining in strength, eventually rising to 15,000 men. This all took time, however, and the first engagement, when a French force was defeated at Ollioules by an Anglo-Spanish detachment, involved only 500 invaders against about 750 Republicans. It was, perhaps, a lucky success; ill-disciplined troops caught in a narrow defile by experienced regulars.

Overall, the allied situation was not particularly secure. Their line of defence extended for eight miles around Toulon, describing a U-shape which had as its three crucial points Fort la Malgue, Mount Faron and Fort Malbousquet. From this defensive position, with resources thinly stretched, it was impossible to take offensive action against the gathering strength of the Republicans. Nevertheless, the Anglo-Spanish forces had guns and ammunition, and ships in support, so that the weakness of their situation was not immediately apparent.

After the fall of Marseilles, which had also risen against the Republicans, the defence of Toulon became increasingly perilous, particularly when a rising star of the French military, Captain Napoleon Bonaparte (still known as Napoleone Buonaparte), arrived on 16 September to take command of the artillery bombardment. At the same time, Hood depleted his forces by sending some of them to Corsica. Fortunately, Lord Mulgrave had reached Toulon on 6 September and under his command the expedition acquired greater military coherence, even though Mulgrave was primarily a politician. One significant step was the organisation of the British forces into two battalions, one of which was commanded by Captain Brereton of the 30th.

The Siege of Toulon, 1793

Initially, on the French side, there was a dispute about strategy. Napoleon wanted to focus on Pointe l’Eguilette, a position which would make the ships in the harbour vulnerable to French guns. General Carteaux, however, preferred a land blockade, hoping to pick off the earth forts which the allies had built and then attack the main, Vaubanesque defences of the town. As overall commander, his view prevailed, although Napoleon had the ear of the representants du people, Augustin Robespierre and Christophe Saliceti.

The initial French bombardment, across several days, concentrated on the ships in the inner harbour, inflicting damage and casualties. Lord Hood decided, therefore, to occupy the heights of Grasse, on the south side of the harbour. Sir Thomas Graham, serving as a volunteer and Lord Mulgrave’s aide-de-camp, sent the following account of what happened on 21 September to his brother-in-law, Lord Cathcart: ‘Both Admiral Gravina and Lord Mulgrave went, and I accompanied them; the detachment consisted of 150 British and 350 Spaniards. We embarked at midnight and landed near Fort Balaguay, and gained the wooded heights without seeing any enemy. The Spaniards were all against occupying the westernmost and most commanding point, as being too distant to receive any support from the ships, and Lord M. was obliged to yield, and to return to the easternmost point of the hill. The post was established there about daybreak, and we returned to breakfast on board the Victory [Hood’s flagship].

‘In the afternoon, they [the Anglo-Spanish] were attacked by 600 men, who got near them under cover of the wood, but were repulsed with some loss. Some of the Spaniards behaved very well, others ill – ours all well; we had an officer of the 25th and eight men wounded. In the night the Spanish Commandant wanted to abandon the post, but our officer (Captain Brereton of the 30th) refused to go, and sent to Lord Hood, who complained to Langara [second-in-command of the Spanish forces], and another commandant was immediately sent.’⁵

Crucial to both sides were the hills beyond Toulon, principally Mount Faron and Le Hauteur de Grace, which were high and well fortified. They were held by the defenders until September, despite a series of Republican attacks. On 30 September, however, the enemy set up batteries above Mount Faron. In response Lord Mulgrave tried to drive the French from their redoubt. The night was foggy, which undoubtedly helped the allies as they began their attack at 2.00 a.m. Graham, in another letter to his brother-in-law, provided a detailed account of what happened. Having reminded Cathcart of the difficulty of bringing forces up in column under heavy fire, he then described the action. ‘The British and Piedmontese were quite mixed at this period, and the rear of the columns from the higher ground still kept on firing. During this check, the Neapolitan grenadiers advanced … and began to draw off the attention of the left of the enemy’s line, to which the advance guard had fallen back. At the critical moment our people charged from behind the rocks, and ran on without firing. The enemy began to give way, and very soon took to their heels, and, being closely pursued, never attempted to rally; but as it was up hill and one continued bed of angular stones, it was impossible for any of our troops, faint with hunger, thirst, and fatigue, to get up close with them. The Neapolitan grenadiers and the head of our columns of British and Piedmontese entered the redoubt at the same moment, where only three or four hundred men attempted to resist. The rest led by the lunette towards La Vallette, or tried to hide themselves among the perpendicular rocks on the north side of the redoubt, from whence many of them fell or were tumbled down by the foreigners, especially the Spaniards, who had no notion of giving quarter, as their great object seemed to be to get possession of the spoils of the dead, for which every consideration of humanity was laid aside; the conduct of the British was strikingly different. From the redoubt, the lunette, and rocks near both, a heavy fire was kept up on the enemy, who could not get very fast away as the descent was so rapid, and a party from Fort Faron went much lower down the hill, and pursued them closely, till brought up by the fire of some guns they had on the side of Coudon. The success of this attack was no doubt much owing to Elphinstone’s attack, originally intended as a diversion only; but when he heard the firing become general in all the points to his left, he left only 30 men in the fort, and went out with 460; of these the Spaniards and French hardly ever came into action, but about 160 of the 30th and 69th Regiments behaved with uncommon steadiness, climbing up the face of an excessive rugged and steep hill (exactly a cairn) without returning a shot till near the top, though exposed to the enemy’s fire from the moment they left the fort, which is within musket-shot of the top of the hill.’⁶

Elphinstone, in his report to Lord Mulgrave, particularly noted that Captains Torriano of the 30th and Beresford of the 69th behaved with particular gallantry as they led their men up the mountainside under fire. It is interesting to compare this eulogy of Torriano with a view from the ranks. According to Aytoun, ‘We had a company in Dominica that was called Captain Torriano’s but I never saw him until we came to Liverpool. He was a remarkable proud man and very seldom was with the regiment … Major Campbell had a whim which the men called Transportation into Captain Torriano’s Company. If a man was very ill-behaved he was transported into that company so that it was the sink of the regiment.’⁷ Such is the significance of perspective when evaluating a man’s character.

The Republicans had also placed a battery at Quatre Moulins, south of the village of La Seyne, and two batteries at La Hauteur de Reinier, but these were disabled on 8 October when Brereton successfully led 300 British troops, including 225 rank and file of the 30th, and various foreign detachments on a mission to spike the guns.

A week later the position on Cap le Brun, which had only been established the previous day and was weakly held by French Royalists, was attacked by Republican forces and taken after a fierce struggle. Lord Mulgrave, convinced that the Republicans had extended too far in advance of their lines, launched a counter-attack from his position at La Malgue. Elphinstone wrote to Lord Hood. ‘On the 15th before day, the report of musquetry was heard, which increased with the light, and induced me to order 100 of the 30th Regiment, 100 Neapolitans, 50 Spaniards, and the remainder of the Royal Louis, to follow me there. By the time I got to the bottom of the hill, the fire was become very brisk, and I had some difficulty to get up by the road. The troops from La Malgue were nearly up, by a shorter road through vineyards. I detached Captain Torriano of the 30th to go round the left of the hill, and take the enemy on their right flank. This had the desired effect and they gave way. On the top of the hill I found the Royal Louis defending themselves gallantly, although hard pressed, but the outposts driven in, and the men in want of cartridges. I advanced with the fresh troops, and recovered our outposts, after an obstinate resistance, and placed Captain Tomlinson of the 30th in the advance, the Neapolitans in the centre, Captain Torriano on the left, with the Royal Louis and the Spanish troops on the right, and it was near an hour before the enemy retired.’⁸

Unfortunately, Elphinstone then himself retired to organise reinforcements. He returned to discover that the enemy had advanced in strength under cover of the woods. Supported by artillery, they attacked the post on all sides and successfully overwhelmed the defenders. Among those killed was Captain Torriano, whom Elphinstone described as one of the most respected officers in Europe. He also praised the 30th for their stout resistance. As well as the loss of Torriano, the regiment suffered Lieutenant Alexander Hamilton, wounded, and Lieutenant Shewbridge, temporarily posted missing. As a result, two sergeants brought the men safely off the field.⁹ Eventually, Cap le Brun was saved for the Royalist cause not by the advance of the additional troops, whose movements lacked co-ordination, but because the Republicans recognised that they were cut off from their own lines. Common sense, therefore, recommended a speedy retreat.

Two successes should have given heart to the Royalist cause, but on the British side at least there was an awareness that co-operation with the Spanish was proving increasingly difficult. Furthermore, few British reinforcements could be expected; the 750 men who arrived from Gibraltar on 27 October made little difference. However, the end of the month also saw the arrival of 1,500 Neapolitans, although the replacement of Lord Mulgrave by General O’Hara, a man inclined to pessimism, was an unfortunate development.

Meanwhile, matters were improving for the Republicans. The Royalist stronghold of Lyons had fallen, releasing troops for the attack on Toulon, and on 7 November Carteaux had been relieved of his command, possibly at the prompting of Napoleon. His successor was General Doppet, but more significant was the arrival of Baron du Teil as artillery commander. He recognised Bonaparte’s acumen and gave him virtually a free hand. The subsequent increase in skillfully placed batteries exposed the vulnerability of the principal allied forts, Mulgrave and Malbousquet.

On 26 October an order arrived directing the 30th to Gibraltar preparatory to their departure for the West Indies but the squadron which should have transported them to Gibraltar was delayed in Genoa. A posting to the West Indies was unlikely to have been popular; too few would have returned if it had actually happened. Nevertheless, remaining where they were must have caused some discontent since by this time rations consisted of rotten meat and bread full of maggots.

Events now swung in favour of the attackers under Doppet’s more aggressive command. On 15 November, after some probing sorties, a committed attack was made on Fort Mulgrave; this was only beaten off by determined defensive action. The Republican failure, however, led to Doppet’s replacement by the more competent General Dugommier. Further Republican reinforcements, bringing their strength to something like 35,000 men, tipped the balance even further. The defenders were outnumbered two to one and the fall of Toulon was inevitable.

With Bonaparte granted the freedom by Dugommier to direct the artillery bombardment as he chose, Fort Mulgrave remained the principal objective, although Fort Malbousquet was also a tempting target. On the night of 27 November the latter fort was bombarded by guns which had been brought forward and carefully concealed. The gunners in Fort Mulgrave and on Hood’s ships launched a counter-bombardment, thus preserving the fort in allied hands for a while longer, but its weak position had been all too clearly demonstrated.

Meanwhile, allied forces were concealed in woods around La Grasse, the height on which Fort Mulgrave was situated, and at 4.00 a.m. on 29 November they advanced in three columns, the British, about a sixth of the total, on the left, against the Republican battery position at Poudrière, where among the guns was a long cannon which could fire into Toulon itself. This battery was successfully taken, as were two further batteries, although such a move was against the tactical intentions of the attack. Having advanced too far, the allies then found themselves under counter-attack from the rallied and reformed Republican forces and suffered heavy losses. The capture of General O’Hara may have been a mixed blessing, however, since his pessimism did not inspire the troops. The allies rallied on a Sardinian line which had stood its ground but retreat was the only option. A further stand was made at Fort Malbousquet but overall the action was a disaster.

For most of the 30th, their interest in the fate of Toulon ended at this point, 300 of them being detached to serve as marines. The lethal struggle continued a little longer, however.

Republican tactics now focused on pinning down the garrison of Fort Malbousquet, while attacking Fort Mulgrave. Feints against the former fort and the forces on Mount Faron, and a long-range bombardment of Cap le Brun would prevent the allies coming to the assistance of the beleaguered Fort Mulgrave. The bombardment started on 15 December, and the actual attack was launched two days later at one in the morning. Aytoun recalled that: ‘we had constant skirmishes with the French and the most tremendous cannonading and bombarding that can be conceived. When I was in Fort Mulgrave we were both cannonaded and bombarded. The French threw four bomb shells and we returned the favor [sic] with three. So it often happened that those who were coming and those who were going were seen passing just over our camp at the same time and if the French artillery had been as good as they were willing, we should have suffered greatly but many of their shot and shells passed over us and fell half a mile beyond us.’¹⁰

According to the report of Lieutenant General Dundas, now in command, which was written on board the Victory on 21 December, ‘Captain Connolly 18th Regiment abandoned the post entrusted to his care, at the moment he saw the British and Spanish picquets retire into the Fort [Mulgrave] and the command devolved upon Capt Vaumorel of the 30th Regt, but on the enemy entering on the Spanish side, the British quarter commanded by Capt Vaumorel of the 30th Regt could not be much longer maintained, notwithstanding several gallant efforts were made for that purpose. It was therefore at last carried, and the remains of the garrison of 700 men (Spaniards) retired towards the shore of Balaquier …’ After the fort had been taken, Captain Vaumorel, Lieutenant Cuyler, five sergeants, three drummers and 140 rank and file and seamen attached to the 30th were posted missing. ‘The fate on the above Officers and Men is not nor cannot be known, but, from all the intelligence that can be gained, it is to be apprehended that they fell before day-break, gallantly defending the post they were entrusted with, when abandoned by other troops.’¹¹

This report relates to the events of 17 December, when Fort Mulgrave was finally lost. Further attacks gave the French command of Pointe l’Eguilette so that, just as Napoleon had always intended, the allied fleet was vulnerable to artillery fire. The Petite Rade had to be abandoned, and it was only a matter of time before the ships would have to depart. On land, Mount Faron had also been taken by the Republicans. Although the first attack was repulsed, the Republicans were able to establish themselves in the centre and on the western end of the ridge, which obliged the garrison to surrender. At the same time, Fort Malbousquet was evacuated by the Spanish.

Departure was both inevitable and difficult to effect. The only position still held by the allies was Fort La Malgue. Being crucial to a successful embarkation, it was only abandoned at the last minute. The arsenal was destroyed, and the soldiers of all nations retreated to the ships, accompanied by as many of the local citizens as could make their escape. On 19 December the Tricolour flew over Toulon.

It was just another sorry chapter in the wretched sequence of expeditions which characterised British military involvement in the Revolutionary Wars, but for the 30th it was a first taste of fighting the enemy who would dominate their lives for the next twenty-two years, and also a first glimpse of the brilliance of a man they would not meet again until 1815.

What about the men who were posted missing at Fort Mulgrave? Vaumorel, adopting a third person voice, wrote the following account. ‘Orders in writing had been received on the morning of the 16th by the officer commanding the fort to do his utmost in defending the same for the protection of that part of the fleet anchored in the inner harbour, and should the ammunition be expended to receive the enemy on the bayonet. Captain Vaumorel’s predecessor, at variance with this order, abandoned the post during the first attack without being followed by a single British soldier, or even by his own servant, in consequence of which Captain Vaumorel decided to defend the place to the last extremity.

‘After daylight on the 17th, the enemy made a third attack and succeeded in getting possession of a Spanish battery of five 24-pounder guns divided by an epaulement from the British side. After a feeble defence the Spaniards, 700 men under a lieut-colonel, gave way and retired to the shore at Balaguier; the enemy entered through the embrasures and the British were obliged to surrender half-an-hour after daybreak.’¹² The surviving defenders were made prisoners of war but were well treated by the Republicans during their period of captivity, which lasted twenty months.

Hamilton also referred to his experiences at Toulon in his statement of service of 1810. He cited a wound he had received at Mount Faron, and the more serious wound which incapacitated him at Cap le Brun and nearly cost him his leg. For both Hamilton and Vaumorel this was the beginning of a distinguished military career, although they would eventually serve the British cause in very different capacities.

Chapter 2

Battle Honours – ‘Egypt’

The ignominious departure from Toulon marked for the 30th the end of their presence in mainland France for more than twenty years. Admiral Hood, however, now directed his attention to another area of potential French weakness, the island of Corsica. Vulnerable to naval attack, and with a disaffected population, it seemed a weak point in Republican defences and a useful base for the British Mediterranean fleet. There were only three French garrisons on the island, at Bastia, Calvi and the Bay of San Fiorenzo, so that it represented a tempting target for British occupation, despite the failure of an earlier attempt to blockade these strongholds.

In January 1794 Hood landed 3,000 soldiers and marines on the island, including men of the 30th, to challenge a French force of much the same strength. Their first objective was to seize the town and citadel of Mortello¹³ on the western shore of San Fiorenzo Bay. Battered by four guns, Mortello surrendered on 10 February after an assault led by Lieutenant Hamilton. A week