The Maltese were looking forward to a period of stability under the French. But Napoleon Bonaparte had other ideas. Our forefathers believed too much in the power of signed papers. Clearly, the Maltese were speaking a different language from that of Napoleon.

Not all Maltese welcomed the convention. Valletta was in turmoil. At the request of Grand Master Ferdinand von Hompesch, Bishop Vincenzo Labini had to go to Cottonera to calm the people, explaining that under the circumstances their patriotism was of no avail as it would cause unnecessary loss of life.

On June 12, 1798, at around 4pm, Bonaparte set foot on Malta, probably at Barriera Wharf. He insisted on walking into Valletta. He was very impressed at the sheer size of the bastions, realising there was no way he could have entered Valletta had there been no one to open the gates.

He proceeded to the Banca Giuratale where he was to be lodged, but apparently, this was not to his liking. He was then moved to Palazzo Parisio, next to Castille.

It was now more than 24 hours since thousands of French troops were let loose roaming through the Maltese villages and the countryside. They were undisciplined, hungry and arrogant. This was bad enough. Even during these very early days, there were reports of widespread pillage from various localities around the island. Żejtun and Birkirkara were among the worst hit.

St George’s parish church in Qormi, still bedecked in all its glory for the feast of Corpus Christi, was laid bare of all its gold and silver. It could not have been a worse beginning for the French. But the Maltese, wisely, decided to wait and see.

Meanwhile, back in Valletta, Napoleon was lodged at Palazzo Parisio. He complained that he required more light at night. Some silver chandeliers and candlesticks were hastily requisitioned from various mansions. It was the last their owners saw of them – he was obsessed with all that glittered.

One day, on his way to Mdina, his horse-driven coach broke down at Saqqajja, not far from the Augustinian convent of St Mark. The good monks rushed out to offer Napoleon the comfort of their convent till he could continue on his journey. Made comfortable, he was offered coffee.

He complimented them on the beauty of their church and convent, adding that they must have some beautiful ornaments to decorate their church at festa time. Very innocently, they answered in the affirmative. The day after, it was all gone!

This behaviour was particularly offensive to the Maltese, being so proud of their churches even to this day. These shocks would move a small island population to react in a way it never thought possible.

Time was short for Napoleon. For the next few days, he embarked on a frenzied effort, churning out a myriad of new orders, many of which could not be implemented. Or were they just smokescreen to cover the central issue – pillage?

Dominique Vivant, Baron de Denon, must have been kept very busy. He knew Napoleon would appoint him director general of museums and head of the Louvre. He kept a very low profile while in Malta. He had only five or six days to inspect the objets d’art he knew so well, scattered around Valletta in the auberges, churches and the Palace, choosing those articles to be sent to Paris, those to be melted and those that would accompany Napoleon to Egypt.

These had to be packed, sealed and carried to the jetty to be loaded on ships. Thirty large trunks were filled with these treasures. Half of them were loaded on Napoleon’s ship L’Orient, heading east, and the remainder on the frigate Le Sensible, with orders to sail to France.

One cannot help but wonder what went through Hompesch’s mind while watching all these treasures of the Order being carried away in front of his eyes. Did he find comfort in the thought that according to the convention as written by Napoleon he was well provided for (or so he thought)?

Article 2 of the convention provided that the French Republic was to pay Hompesch an annual pension of 300,000 francs, and a grant of 600,000 francs for his personal needs, and that the Republic was to endeavour to use its influence to acquire for Hompesch a principality equivalent to the one he was losing. (Napoleon must have kept a very serious countenance while writing this.)

On June 18, 1798, the Grand Master left Malta bound for Trieste, accompanied by a number of knights. He was allowed to take his personal effects and some relics the Order had brought from Rhodes, namely a piece of the Holy Cross, the bones of St John the Baptist’s right hand, and the icon of Our Lady of Philermos, adorned with a solid gold headdress embellished with diamonds and rubies. But all jewellery had to be removed from the relics by order of Napoleon.

On that same day, Napoleon left Malta with the French army and navy on board the L’Orient, heading for Egypt. Le Sensible left Malta soon after, bound for Toulon with its precious load. Then disaster struck. On June 26 at 4pm Le Sensible was spotted by the British frigate Seahorse near Pantelleria. It took only eight minutes of battle for the Sensible to strike its colours, suffering 18 dead and 37 wounded.

That frigate, along with all the treasures taken from Malta intended to adorn the Louvre, was escorted to England where it arrived the following February. Among the treasures was the Ximenes Cannon, which is now in a British museum. The Louvre is the poorer. And Malta.

The British fleet, under Rear Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson, was closing in on Malta. Just two days after Napoleon’s departure from Malta, Nelson was in Messina. On June 22, he was in Syracuse. He missed Napoleon by just four days!

So, just a few days after Napoleon’s invasion of Malta, the island was already cut off from France and the prospect of provisions from that country. Napoleon, having to obey the directive from Paris, warning him not to jeopardise the Egyptian campaign, left Malta and its people, including the French garrison of 4,000 officers and men, at the mercy of Nelson. Napoleon must have known how precarious the situation of his troops in Malta was.

They sought help from their sovereign, the King of Naples, to oust their occupiers. It never arrived. The Maltese learned their lesson

Before leaving Malta, Napoleon appoin­ted the 50-year-old General Claude-Henri Belgrand de Vaubois supreme commander of the Maltese islands. He also appointed Michel-Etienne Regnaud de Saint-Jean d’Angely as the French Commissioner. He and Vaubois would not work well together. Vaubois, an aristocrat, was of genial character and a great patriot. D’Angely, on the other hand, was described by Vaubois as of an intractable and impetuous character.

Vaubois would put the blame of the problems that befell the French in Malta fairly and squarely on the whims and follies of D’Angely. The latter had ordered the destruction of the Order’s archives; he had also decreed that the expense for the defence of the island by the French Army was to be borne by the Maltese.

Both Vaubois and D’Angely had no idea how precarious their position was. They both went headlong into implementing Napoleon’s orders to turn Malta into a Republican haven in the centre of the Mediterranean. In a few short weeks they would both realise the futility of the whole Malta campaign.

The most devastating crime committed against the Maltese by Napoleon was that he had taken all the money from the local Treasury (Università dei Grani). This caused Vaubois a multitude of problems, the most serious being the purchase of food, mainly corn. Significantly, in his letter to the Executive Directory dated October 6, 1798, Vabois lamented that Napoleon had taken with him all the money in the local Treasury, leaving the day-to-day expenses to be met from the silver looted from the churches.

One may ask why, in the case of Malta, Napoleon would strive to plunder not only silver and gold but also the Treasury of its money, which brought the Maltese and the French to the brink of starvation? Why was he so keen to ensure his ability to pay the salaries of his troops in Egypt while so careless about the well-being of his troops in Malta, not to mention his complete disregard of the population of a defenceless island shorn of its money to buy food?

The importation of corn from Sicily ceased almost immediately after the French invasion. Malta, now under French rule, could no longer enjoy preferential treatment by Sicily since it was no longer governed by the Order. Sicily now decreed that all ships, boats and speronara coming from Malta had to endure a strict quarantine of 21 days. Under these circumstances, starvation for the Maltese was inevitable.

It is now July – a few weeks since Napoleon had invaded Malta. About 40,000 people were living in Valletta and the surrounding cities. The Grand Harbour, the lifeblood of Malta, was at a standstill. This was disastrous for those earning their living from the port activities.

The majority of the population, some 60,000, were living in the countryside. Mainly farmers, they tried to raise meagre crops from their stony fields. They were hardworking and were prepared to defend till death their family, the Church and their fields. All three came under attack by the French authorities. This trauma, which our forefathers had to endure, would prove to be the catalyst for change.

On August 28, 1798, news reached Malta that at the battle of Aboukir, the French fleet was completely shattered by Nelson. This was received with great rejoicing by the Maltese and served as a welcome boost to their morale. Now they were relieved by the thought that Napoleon could not retaliate in case the Maltese revolted. This happened just five days later.

September 2, 1798, was earmarked for the sale by auction of the gold and silver of the churches of Rabat and Mdina. The auctioneer, Joseph Farrugia, an ardent French collaborator who would be receiving a hefty commission, started the sale in the Franciscan Friars Minor church where the Confraternity of St Joseph had its seat.

An angry and vociferous crowd had gathered near the church. They could not suffer watching their precious and sacred utensils going under the hammer! In that mayhem, the auction could not proceed.

Farrugia and his aides stealthily made their way unnoticed to Mdina to carry out another auction sale of sacred objects, this time at the Carmelite church. An angry crowd attacked them and started to manhandle them. A boy started ringing the church bells, and soon the narrow streets of Mdina were packed with irate bystanders.

For a second time, the auctioneers had to take to their heels. After a while, a large crowd of villagers from Żebbuġ and Siġġiewi arrived at Rabat, answering the call of the church bells. Foolishly, the French commandant of Mdina, Lazarre Masson, with two companions and with his sword un­sheated, went to Rabat to investigate the reason for the crowd. He was soon surrounded.

Someone threw a stone that hit him on the head. He fell to the ground and was then kicked several times and trampled to death. His body was thrown from the balcony from Notary Bezzina’s residence in Mdina. One of his companions was also caught and killed. Blood had been shed and there would be more. Malta’s struggle for national liberation had begun.

Gozo also rose in rebellion against the French on the same day that fighting broke out in Malta, forcing the 217 officers and ranks to seek refuge behind the walls of the Cittadella. The French soldiers in Malta had no option but to seek refuge behind the cities’ fortifications. They knew they would be well provided with corn since all granaries on the island were in their hands. That was the end of the French administration of Malta. It had lasted just 82 days.

The Maltese faced the prospect of famine and starvation. But surely, King Ferdinand of Naples would not allow this to happen in a part of his kingdom. With the harbours of St Paul’s Bay and Marsaxlokk now safely in Maltese hands all food requirements could be landed there. Or so the Maltese thought.

The Maltese countryside, which had risen in rebellion against the French, acted very fast. Only two days after the insurrection, members of all the villages were called for a meeting in Mdina. It was agreed that a Maltese National Assembly should be formed.

On September 5, the assembly unanimously decided to send Wiġi Briffa to Naples with a letter to the King informing him of the uprising, requesting urgent help to oust the French from the cities. They needed arms and ammunition. They also requested permission to import food from Sicily on credit, which they would pay for after victory, since the Treasury now had no cash. They affirmed their loyalty to the King of Naples as their lawful sovereign.

In Naples, Briffa duly delivered the letter to the local authorities. Before departing for Malta he was assured of Naples’ help in the Maltese struggle against the French. He was advised to call at Sicilian ports to seek more help from neighbours.

It would take two months for Naples to formally promise to help the Maltese. But no help arrived. Soon enough, our forefathers, for the second time in less than three months, would find themselves helpless and abandoned by their rulers.

On September 13, the Maltese leaders wrote to Nelson with a request to blockade by sea the two harbours. On September 19, 1798, four ships-of-the-line of the Portuguese Navy arrived off Malta. The blockade had begun.

It was hoped and indeed expected that Vaubois, facing these insurmountable problems, would soon have to surrender. Amazingly, he would only do so when the last sack of corn in the granary was consumed. That would be two years away!

On October 24, five British ships-of-the-line were seen approaching Malta. Nelson was on board the Vanguard. He was briefed on the situation of the island by four Maltese representatives who went on board. He learned that in spite of all the promises made, no food or ammunition had reached the island from Naples. As suggested by Nelson, the Maltese again petitioned Naples for urgent help. Again, to no avail.

On October 28, 1798, the French in Gozo capitulated. The 217 French officers and men in the Cittadella had no hope of receiving any help from their comrades in Malta. They were completely surrounded by an angry crowd and they had no alternative but to accept Captain Alexander Ball’s offer to surrender. They were marched to Mġarr harbour and taken on board Nelson’s flagship, the Vanguard, prior to being sent to France.

The cost was huge. A staggering 20,000 Maltese had died as a result of the French occupation

Interestingly, as a sign of loyalty to Naples, the French flag that was hauled down from the Castello was sent to the King in Naples, and the British flag hoisted after the capitulation was lowered the following day to make way for the flag of Naples.

But the Maltese lost all hope of receiving any help from Sicily. They were shocked and surprised to find themselves discarded. While Naples always claimed ownership of Malta, it always sought to shirk its responsibility to administer the island – from Don Gonsalvo Monroy to the Order of St John, to the French (their representative had signed the capitulation ‘with reservations’).

Now, Naples had no objections watching the English taking the initiative to liberate the island. Queen Carolina did have a complaint, however. She told her close friend Emma Hamilton how cross she felt that the English had not invited Naples to sign the French capitulation of Malta. “Didn’t they know we would have given it to them?” she quipped.

On February 15, 1799, Canon Francesco Saverio Caruana wrote directly to Nelson: “we lost all hope of ever receiving food from the King... we have reached the end of our tethers... wherever you look you see sickness and death due to famine... our hopes on Sicily have come to naught.”

On September 5, 1800, after making sure the last sack of flour had been consumed, Vaubois decided the time had come to capitulate to the British. Understandably, he insisted that the angry Maltese were to be kept away from the departing French, who were guaranteed safe passage on British ships back to their homeland.

There is no doubt that economically and socially, the two years of French occupation of Malta had a long-lasting and disastrous effect on our forefathers. The cultivation and export of cotton, the mainstay of the livelihood of the countryside, was ruined, never to return.

In two short years they went through the trauma of watching their island pass from one owner to another. Then they rose against their new owners and sought help from their sovereign, the King of Naples, to oust their occupiers. It never arrived. The Maltese learned their lesson.

This was the dawn of a new era for Malta. But the cost was huge. A staggering 20,000 Maltese had died as a result of the French occupation.

(Concluded)