THE FROBERG MUTINY: FIRE, DECEIT, AND FURY AT FORT RICASOLI
On the evening of 12 April 1807, a thunderous explosion rocked Fort Ricasoli in Malta, sending shockwaves across the Grand Harbour. Smoke billowed into the sky, alarming the people of Valletta. Three British guards lay dead, and although six rebellious soldiers were presumed dead in the blast, they were already slipping away under cover of darkness.
Fort Ricasoli, Kalkara. Source: TripBucket.com
This dramatic event marked the final act of the Froberg Mutiny. But behind this blast was a story of betrayal, rebellion and barbaric reprisal, sparked by a regiment built on lies. In the early 1800s, Malta didn’t have enough local or British soldiers to defend the island. To fill the gap, British agents hired foreign mercenaries from across Europe to help protect it. The trouble began in 1803, when a German man calling himself Count Froberg was granted a Letter of Service by Britain’s Secretary at War to raise a regiment of foreign soldiers. In reality, ‘Froberg’ was Gustave de Montjoie, a French royalist who tricked hundreds of young men across Europe and Christian Turkey—Greeks, Bulgarians, Poles, Albanians, Swiss, and Germans—into joining his so-called ‘Froberg Levy’. Many were promised officer ranks and high pay. Instead, they were shipped to Malta, treated as common soldiers, and paid less than half of what they were due. By the time they arrived in 1806, the seeds of revolt had been sown. Many of them were angry and confused. They said they had been brought to the island against their will and demanded to be sent back to Corfu.
The regiment was officially under Major Schumelketel, but the man really in charge was Lieutenant Schwartz—the same officer who had tricked many of them into joining. He ruled them with an iron fist. When the men protested, Schwartz threatened to cut off their food. Faced with hunger, they reluctantly backed down. Things didn’t get much better after quarantine. The men were released with no uniforms, no weapons, and barely any guidance. Left to wander the streets of Valletta, they often got into fights—both with each other and with the Maltese, who were not, because of local history, inclined to look at anyone coming from Turkey favourably. The situation was tense and only getting worse. To avoid more trouble, Lieutenant-General William Villettes, the commander of the British forces in Malta, ordered the soldiers to be kept inside Fort Ricasoli, which was built in the late 17th century to protect the entrance to Grand Harbour. They were only allowed to visit the city in small groups and under strict control.
Lt. Gen. William Anne Villettes
Then, on 4 April 1807, frustration turned to fury. Around 200 mutineers, mostly Greeks and Albanians, rose up. Led by a Greco-Bulgarian called Caro Mitro, they stormed their officers at Fort Ricasoli, killing Lieutenant Schwartz, the man responsible for their recruitment and another officer, whilst severely wounding others. They also killed a British gunner who refused to give up the keys to the armoury and took the remaining officers, their families, and several British soldiers hostage. Seizing the fort, they replaced the Union Jack with a Russian flag, pointed the fort’s cannons toward Valletta, and issued a bold ultimatum: free passage to Corfu or they would bombard the city.
Fort Ricasoli Main gate. Source: Malta Independent
General William Villettes, refused to give in. A direct assault would risk the lives of hostages—women, children, and British soldiers held inside. Instead, he surrounded the fort, placed over 170 cannons in position, ready to respond to any attack, and cut off supplies hoping to starve the rebels into submission. Inside the fort, chaos grew. Demands were repeated, then ignored. Tensions rose. On April 6, a surrender seemed possible—a white flag was briefly hoisted, then taken down, but then hardliners among the rebels took over. Worried about dwindling food supplies, they allowed the officers’ wives and children to leave, revealing the desperate state the rebels had reached.
Meanwhile, a large group of Germans and Poles, who were fed up with the situation and who did not want to be associated with the main body of mutineers, overpowered the sentries at the gate. Together with the remaining British officers and some ringleaders -hoping to slip out unnoticed- they rushed out of the fort only to be immediately arrested. On April 10, the remaining mutineers finally fired on Valletta. Though the damage was minor, Villettes had had enough. That night, a group of 40 soldiers, led by Lieutenant de Clermont, scaled the fort’s walls under cover of darkness. They took back the fort without losing a single man. But the rebellion wasn’t over yet. Six mutineers, including their leader Caro Mitro, barricaded themselves in the gunpowder magazine and threatened to blow it up. On the night of April 12, they did exactly that. The explosion killed three British guards. Miraculously, the six rebels escaped in the confusion, though most were later caught.
St Dominic Demi-Bastion at Fort Ricasoli, where the mutineers blew up the magazine. Source: Continentaleurope
The Floriana Parade Ground where the executions took place. Painting by Admiral Edward Gennys Fanshawe (27 November 1814 – 21 October 1906).
Carlo Mitri
Villettes acted swiftly. Twenty-four mutineers were sentenced to death after a brief trial. Their grisly public execution took place on the Floriana Parade Ground in front of the remaining regiment, now prisoners. Their execution was designed to be a warning. The condemned were forced to hang one another in stages, a firing squad shot the remaining mutineers Some tried to flee; they were cut down where they ran. Only two rebels—Caro Mitro, the mutiny’s leader, and Nicola d’Anastasi—remained at large. But by the end of April, they too were caught near Baħar iċ-Ċagħaq and executed.
An inquiry later uncovered the truth: the entire regiment had been raised under false pretenses and poor leadership. The Froberg Regiment was disbanded. Around 350 men were sent home. Others were reassigned. Froberg himself, discredited and exposed, fled—but didn’t survive. Some say he was hacked to death by Cossacks. Others believe angry ex-recruits found him first.
Today, Fort Ricasoli bears the scars of the mutiny. Badly damaged in the explosion of 1807, some parts of the fortifications were never rebuilt to their original design. Despite later aerial bombardment in World War II and coastal erosion, the fort still stands as a witness to this extraordinary episode—a short-lived rebellion fueled by lies, desperation, and broken promises.
Written with reference to:
- ‘The Fort Ricasoli Mutiny’ by Alfred Bonnici The PSM magazine, 10(1), 13-20, Malta Philatelic Society, 1980.
- ‘FEATURE: The Froberg Mutiny’ by Matthew Cammilleri. Accessed July 2025: https://www.independent.com.mt/articles/2021-04-11/local-news/FEATURE-The-Froberg-Mutiny-6736232510
- ‘The 1807 Froberg Regiment Mutiny at Fort Ricasoli’ by David Dandria. Accessed July 2025: https://timesofmalta.com/article/The-1807-Froberg-regiment-mutiny-at-Fort-Ricasoli.554490
- ‘The Mutiny at Fort Ricasoli’ by Denis A. Darmanin. Published on Sunday 12 January 1997 & Sunday 19 January 1997 in The Malta Independent.
