Our entrance into the gaol of Boulogne--Tantalising sight of Old
England’s flag and white cliffs--A gaoler’s supper and a
conscientious bill--Another examination--The route to
Verdun--Arras--The gaoler kind, and the commandant full of
indulgence--Bapaume--The baker, and inquiries for our lost
money--Cambray--Cateau-Cambresis and its horrible
dungeon--Landrecies--Our awkwardness in chains, handcuffs, and
fetters--My dislike to them--Avesnes--Information that we were to
be shot--The dungeon of Avesnes--A dungeon companion who had killed
and cut up both his parents--A night of horrors and lunacy--Hirson,
a town without a gaol, but with a dungeon--A supper and its
consequences--The discovery of our implements of escape--Maubert
Fontaine--A new dungeon and a fellow-prisoner--Reciprocal
services--A novel mode of hiding pistol-barrels--Chaining prisoners
to a cart--Mezières--Arrival at Verdun--Separated from my
companions--Reflections on being shot--A close
examination--Questioned in relation to Buonaparte--Allowed to join
my old associates--Another cross-examination--A recommittal to
prison--Our fate determined--The dungeon of Bitche--The Rev.
Lancelot C. Lee, a _détenu_--His generosity.
The next morning, the 19th Sept. 1807, at eight o’clock, our _gendarme_
escort entered the inn, and, soon placing us in a cart, conducted us to
Boulogne. We arrived at about two in the afternoon, and were
unceremoniously handed over to a regular gaoler, a Mons. Verjuis, who
gave us in custody to one of his most expert turnkeys. The fellow showed
us into our apartment. Shortly after, two small sheaves of straw were
sent us as substitutes for beds, and a bucket of water accompanied them,
as our sole refreshment. Tuthill, astonished at this supply, asked me
seriously what it could mean? I replied, that it was evidently to be our
food, and that they thought straw for Englishmen a good substitute for
bread!! However, complaint would only have subjected us to ridicule or
insult, and without a murmur we drank our water and reposed upon our
straw. We had passed many days when the straw would have been a luxury
to us, and many nights and days when we would have given a stream of
gold for the draught of water.
This day’s excursion had afforded us a view of that formidable flotilla
which had so frequently threatened to hurl destruction upon our little
island; but with what different emotions did we catch the view of the
white cliffs of Dover, and behold an English frigate and lugger
blockading the French port. The sight of our country, and of the
triumphant flag of our glorious profession--the navy of England,--filled
us with desires that were not to be realised, and with hopes in which it
was tantalising and vain to indulge. I was a little relieved by a
feeling of contempt at the dismantled and decaying flotilla, and by
reflecting that had France had the folly to build a thousand times as
many flat-bottomed boats as I then beheld, she never could have made any
impression on our happy country.
However, neither sentiment nor reflection can be a substitute for food,
and the keenness of our appetites soon taught us the absolute necessity
of becoming acquainted with our _good host_. We began to supplicate for
relief through the iron bars; and our experience of the French
character had taught us the good policy of accompanying each
supplication with an assurance that we would pay liberally for whatever
we might be supplied with. At length, this man of iron bars and gratings
thought proper to pay us a visit. He promised to afford us relief, and
we soon got supplied tolerably well with food, and had two mattresses
brought us--we still keeping our promise to pay whatever was required.
It appeared that this fellow was a great acquisition to Buonaparte’s
government: he had been originally a convict sentenced to perpetual
imprisonment in chains; he therefore resided in a gaol, and wore small
silver chains round his wrists and ankles, and thus literally conformed
to his sentence, whilst he was placed in a situation under government.
On Monday the 21st we were conducted to the captain of _gendarmes_ to
undergo another examination; and he behaved very like a gentleman. We
were interrogated separately. He said that our attempt to gain our
liberty was very laudable, and that he felt for our misfortunes. Our
march back was to commence the next morning. He exhorted us to have
fortitude and patience, and dwelt very much on the cruelty of not having
an exchange of prisoners between the two countries. We returned him many
thanks for his goodness, and were escorted back to our prison, where we
made every necessary arrangement within our power for the next day. This
was a task neither difficult nor long, for our luggage or apparel was
not calculated to cause us much embarrassment.
On Tuesday, 22nd Sept., we were called betimes by the guard, and in a
few minutes were once more _en route_. The day was excessively wet and
the roads heavy, which prevented the guards from chaining us, more
especially as we had a very long march to Montreuil, which was twelve
or thirteen leagues distant. About five in the afternoon we were placed
in the common gaol of Montreuil, which we found a tolerably comfortable
prison; but the gaoler and his wife imposed upon us in a shameful
manner.
Our route was now through Hesdin and St. Pol, to Arras. The gaoler here
behaved with kindness and civility to us, and (with the exception of
one) was the most humane man in that situation I ever knew. And in dire
necessity of his humanity were we all at this moment; but more
especially myself, for so completely knocked up was I from excessive
fatigue and exhaustion, by the length of this day’s journey in chains,
that I found my head quite dizzy, and had actually swooned and fallen
against the prison walls before the gaoler could conduct me to my cell.
The commandant was also extremely civil, and allowed us, at our own
request, a chaise, with an escort of two _gendarmes_ (whose names were
Potdevin and Pasdevie), to Cambray. Having passed through Bapaume, we
called at our old friend the baker’s, where Mr. Essel supposed he had
lost his money. He and his children were severally examined; but we
could not discover the smallest trace that might lead us to suppose he
had taken it: and I must confess I believed the baker to be innocent. At
Cambray we dismissed, or, rather, the Arras escort quitted us; and we
were conducted to Cateau-Cambresis, where we were put into a most
horrible dungeon under ground, nor could anything in our power have any
effect on the flint-hearted keeper of it. We fortunately remained but
twenty-four hours at this place; thence we were conducted to Landrecies,
where we were permitted to stop and get a breakfast. Our landlady here
shed tears at seeing us handcuffed in so cruel a manner; yet, in spite
of all remonstrances and entreaties, and notwithstanding the obvious
inutility of this caution or harshness, our guards would not unshackle a
single wrist during the whole time, and the people of the house were
literally obliged to feed us.
At about five o’clock on the 29th, we arrived at Avesnes, and were very
rudely thrust into the gaol, and placed amongst the worst and lowest
class of criminals that it contained. This, we were informed, was by the
special order of General Wirion, who, it appeared, had sent an express
to all stages on our route, desiring that we should be treated as
severely and as indignantly as possible. Our guard seemed to be by no
means lax in discipline, for they fulfilled their instructions both to
their spirit and letter. A report, moreover, was current at this place,
that we were English spies, about to be shot for having been hired to
inspect the naval armaments along the French coast. This idea certainly
did not procure us the sympathies of the populace, nor did it seem to
soften the tempers of our conductors; and all assurances to the contrary
on our part were rendered abortive by the fact of our being so heavily
manacled, shackled, and loaded with chains. The conclusions from these
symbols of guilt were that if we were not spies we were something even
worse. What were our disgust and horror when we found that we were
thrust into a horrible dungeon with a wretch that was condemned to
perpetual imprisonment for having murdered and mutilated both his father
and mother! I shuddered every time I beheld this monster, and could not
bear his gaze upon me. I was told that the wretch had cut both of his
parents into quarters, and had buried them in a pit. Never shall I
forget the joy we all felt when at daybreak we were taken from this
horrible society. I expressed my astonishment that crimes so heinous
should not receive the punishment of death; and then it was, and not
till then, that the solution was made clear to me--the unhappy man, upon
his trial, had been declared a lunatic. I reflected that, as a lunatic,
he ought not to be subject to so cruel a confinement. From all I had
seen of French gaols, I entertained a very low idea of the prison
discipline, economy, and management of France; but the horrors of that
night can never be effaced from my mind.
It was about five o’clock, on the 30th of September, that we were halted
at the town of Hirson. The town is without a gaol, but it possessed a
little damp, subterranean cell, or dungeon, just capable of containing
the four of us. We were thrust into this _cachot_, or dungeon, and, a
little straw being contemptuously thrown upon us, the heavy door was
closed, and we were left to the choice of meditation or slumber. We
preferred the latter, but vexation made us irritable; when luckily a
brigadier of the _gendarmerie_--who, with two _gendarmes_, constituted
the police of the village--showed his face at the little hole in the
door of the dungeon, and informed us that the gaoler’s wife would
procure us some sort of refreshment, provided we would pay her, and pay
her in advance. This we not only agreed to immediately, but we found our
hearts bounding at the intelligence, and we most humbly and gratefully
thanked this brigadier for his excessive goodness and condescension. We
were soon informed that there was a kind of repast prepared for us, and
that we should have permission to go out into the gaoler’s house during
the few minutes necessary to refresh ourselves. This intelligence threw
us into great confusion, as we had been unaccustomed to such an
indulgence, and, in consequence, had neglected to conceal in some secret
hole a number of small articles, such as files and gimlets, which we
fortunately had hitherto kept in our possession. The moment they were
about to open our door, one preferred keeping what tools he had about
him, another slipped his in amongst the straw, and in this perplexed
state the dungeon was opened and we were ordered out. At this instant I
flung from me, over a high garden wall, two small files which I had
concealed in my hand when the dungeon door was opened. I protest I
thought the things left in the straw were best secured, as the place was
excessively dark. We were now seated at table with some soup and
_bouilli_, in great consternation, surrounded by the _gendarmes_ and
gaoler. In a few minutes the latter procured a candle and lanthorn, and
informed the brigadier he was ready to attend him. He accordingly rose,
and they proceeded to the miserable abode we had just quitted. An
opinion of our feelings at that moment can only be formed by those
unfortunate people who have experienced similar sufferings and anxiety.
I can only say that our relish for the soup was not very great; we were
well assured that everything left in the straw would inevitably be
discovered, which most certainly would lead to a general search of our
persons. The brigadier’s generosity was now sufficiently accounted for:
he and his companion returned; and, as we expected, they had found every
single tool, together with the stock of a double-barrelled pistol--of
which I had given charge to Essel, keeping the barrels in my own
possession, and another of the same description, with its barrels also.
They made very diligent search for the barrels of Essel’s pistol-stock,
but without effect. We assured them that we threw the barrels away prior
to our quitting Verdun; and that we had taken the stock and lock to use
occasionally instead of a tinder-box, which we had no possibility of
providing. They began to search us now separately: a few things were
found upon my comrades; but, fortunately for me, they did not discover
upon my person my pistol, which was more complete than that which they
had found, nor the barrels belonging to Essel’s pistol-stock, nor, in
fact, anything whatever. Poor Ashworth was less fortunate, for out of
the seams of his greatcoat they took two files. They next cut open every
covered button, thinking one or all of them might contain some coin; but
in this, I have no doubt, they were most mortified and chagrined to be
mistaken. The brigadier could hardly convince himself that my
walking-stick, which I purchased after leaving Boulogne, did not conceal
a sword or dagger. He kept twisting it about and tugging at it, all in
vain, and yet so suspicious was he that he chose to keep it for the
night. We were reconducted to our den in a state of feeling which can
scarcely be conceived. In a few minutes we endeavoured to take what
repose we could.
Awaking about midnight, I began to deliberate upon the consequence of
having so dangerous a “tinder-box” about me, with all its necessary
materials, _i.e._ ammunition; and, having found what I thought was a
convenient place--a hole in the dungeon wall--I deposited the barrels of
Essel’s pistol therein, keeping about me still my own complete. The
night went off without further disturbance.
At daylight we were again put _en route_--chained, handcuffed, and
closely, even maliciously, watched. The day was very rainy, the roads
very bad and heavy; our march was long and fatiguing; and I cannot say
that our minds were in the best possible state to cheer us through our
sufferings.
It was on the 1st of October, about six in the evening, that we arrived
at Maubert Fontaine. Never were poor prisoners in a more miserable
plight. We were saturated with rain, and covered with mud. We found that
a new dungeon had been built in this village, and into it we were rudely
thrust. What the old dungeon might have been, I do not know, but our
_domicile_ proved to me that the French could not have made much
progress in the art of constructing dungeons. It was a wretched place. A
boy, of about ten years old, had been confined in it for six or seven
days; he belonged to the neighbouring town of Lille, and was imprisoned
for having strolled from home without a passport. The poor little fellow
informed us that his food had been nothing but black bread and water;
and he stated, not much to my satisfaction, that our arrival had been
expected for two or three days, and that we were to be searched most
strictly. This boy was of the greatest service to me, and, with his
assistance, I contrived to conceal my double-barrelled pistol, or, as I
termed it, my tinder-box. I unscrewed the barrels, and, thrusting them
into the fingers of my gloves, I kept the glove on, with the fingers
bent towards the wrist, so that the pistol-barrels were mistaken for my
fingers straight out. The boy helped me to conceal the stock, just as
the guard entered to search us. We had nothing else about us now, except
our money, which had hitherto been respected, and a small gold watch
which I wore, and which they fortunately did not discover. I purchased
this watch at Verdun, and wear it even to the present day. We were
searched with great strictness and severity; and such were the feelings
against us that the guard deprived us of all our money, and, upon our
remonstrating, they replied that they would pay out of it all our
expenses to Verdun, and account for the balance to General Wirion, at
that depot. The reader may easily imagine with what sort of good faith
the account was kept, and the amount that remained to be paid to the
General. However, this night the guard provided for us, out of our
money, what they called a supper; and they procured for us some straw
and blankets, which were our only beds. The poor French boy felt himself
perfectly happy in having, as he termed it, “something good” to eat. We
gave the poor little fellow an ample share of everything that was
brought to us; and if he felt the luxury of the unexpected repast, we
likewise felt “the greater luxury of doing good.” The guards gaped and
stared at the unusual scene; and, after muttering their _parbleus_ and
_sacrés_, they shrugged up their shoulders and expressed their
astonishment at our generosity. I only wished that generosity was
contagious, and that our rapacious, stone-hearted temporary keepers
might imbibe our feelings.
The guard visited us every hour during the night; notwithstanding which,
I contrived to find an opportunity of getting rid of all the materials
of my dangerous “tinder-box,” excepting the barrels.
At daybreak, 2nd October, we were handcuffed and chained to a cart, the
roads having become too heavy to admit of our proceeding on foot; and
here I got rid of the barrels, by wrapping a little straw round each
and dropping them through the cart in the mud.
In the evening we arrived at Mezières gaol, and were put into the yard,
after being strictly searched; nor could we procure even a dungeon until
we had agreed to pay a most exorbitant price which the gaoler charged
for some refreshments that he had procured for us. He very laconically
observed, “I know the _gendarmes_ have plenty of money which they took
from you. You may as well let me have part, as let _them_ have all. You
will not stand in need of any in a few days;” thus intimating that we
were to be shot as spies, which was the general opinion everywhere.
Our treatment was pretty nearly the same throughout all the way to
Verdun, where we arrived at the latter end of October. I was then
separated from my companions, being considered as the _chef du complot_,
and was thrown into a miserable dungeon, in which was another prisoner,
supposed to have been a spy, and who expected to be brought to trial in
a few days, and with no great confidence of being tried with a
superfluous regard to justice or mercy. The universal impression that we
were to be shot, with which our ears had been dinned at every
resting-place upon the road, seemed confirmed by the companion with whom
they placed me in this dungeon. I was certain that if only one of the
party was to suffer death, that victim would be myself--not only because
it is the custom in France to infer that the oldest of a party or gang
is the ringleader, or _chef du complot_, but my conscience told me that
I had really been the chief instigator to all that we had done. I made
my mind up to bear the execution with a fortitude and dignity that
should not disgrace the naval service or national character of my
country; I trusted in God that my death would satiate French vengeance,
and that my brave companions would be allowed to escape; and finally, in
the perfect resignation which I felt to my approaching fate, I was
consoled by my conscience telling me that I had committed no crime that
merited so sanguinary and ignominious a punishment. I laid my hand upon
my heart, and felt that I had done nothing to tarnish the honour of a
naval officer and a gentleman.
At daybreak a guard came to conduct me to the place of examination. Here
I found Lieutenant Demangeoit, of the _gendarmerie_, a scrivener, and
Mr. Galliers, interpreter. This Lieutenant Demangeoit was afterwards
dismissed from the Emperor’s service. My examination continued two or
three hours; every question and answer was noted down, and as much form
and solemnity as possible were given to the proceedings. I was minutely
cross-examined with respect to the pistol-stock, and was sifted over and
over again, with both earnestness and cunning, as to where I had been on
the days Buonaparte had passed through Verdun. I was interrogated as to
what company I had been in, with whom I had breakfasted; and numberless
other questions were put to me, without my being able to form the
slightest idea of what they suspected or at what object they were
aiming. However, it was clear that I was suspected of some offence in
relation to the Emperor, and it was certain that there was a
determination, if possible, to implicate me in it. Our companion Essel
had on that morning given a public breakfast to several of his friends
at his lodgings, which happened to be situated immediately in the
thoroughfare, or most public part of the town, _La Place St. Croix_, and
close to the windows of which Napoleon and suite must of necessity have
passed. Of this circumstance I was ignorant, consequently had no
invitation, which at this moment, for me, proved a fortunate event, and
evidently explained the cause of this strict and scrutinising
examination.
M. le Lieutenant Demangeoit appeared also particularly anxious to
ascertain whether my pistols had been purchased previous or subsequent
to the breakfast on the day of Buonaparte passing through Verdun. This
was evidently done with the intention of, if possible, fixing upon
us--but more especially upon me, to whom the articles in question
belonged--the atrocious and abominable stigma of a conspiracy and
premeditated design to assassinate their Emperor: for whom, however
formidable my dislike might have been to the _chief_ of the avowed foes
of my country, I entertained not the slightest feeling of personal
vindictive animosity. They very much wanted to be informed by whom we
had been supplied with ropes, and who had assisted us in descending the
ramparts. I replied, “That, by degrees, we had procured sufficient rope
for the purpose of horse-collars, and of course _twice_ the length that
would have been necessary had we had a friend to assist us in descending
by holding it fast; but we had to place the bight over a rock which I
knew stood near the place, and then went down by the double part; after
which we hauled it to us, cut it to pieces, and threw it into the
Meuse.”
I went through all this raking and cross-fire of examination with
patience and humility; but, the ordeal being over, I began to
remonstrate at the unnecessary cruelty of being separated from my
companions. At last it was decided that I should be conducted to their
prison, _La Tour d’Angoulême_, they having been removed from it to the
place of examination. We were not allowed to see each other until the
whole examination was over; but, in passing the guard-room in which they
were locked up, I heard their voices, and vociferated to them, “Mind you
stick to the old text:” a hint they very well understood. This
exasperated the guard, who insisted upon knowing what I had said; but I
simply replied, “That I had only said that I was very hungry and wanted
my breakfast:” with which he seemed perfectly satisfied. I need not
describe the joy we all felt upon being once more together.
We amused ourselves the whole night in talking over the different
questions that had been put to each of us; for it had long been our
practice to suggest every possible question to which we might be
probably exposed, in the event of our being captured, and to agree upon
the answers we should make, in order that neither equivocation nor
inconsistencies might undo us. The gaoler (Monsieur Percival) supplied
us, out of our own funds, with the nourishment that was permitted by the
laws of prison discipline. Fire and candle were prohibited.
Some days had elapsed, when we were again conducted to be examined
separately. I was the first called into court. The lieutenant
(Demangeoit) informed me that there had been certain questions
transmitted from the minister at Paris to be put to me, and to which it
would be to my interest to give candid answers. In the first place, he
was certain that we never could have kept a direct course through the
long and difficult route from Verdun to Étaples without guides,
especially as it appeared that we had had neither chart nor compass. We
had luckily destroyed the compass, and no chart had been found upon us,
with the exception of the maps of the departments at Étaples, so I
coolly replied, “That English sailors could always steer with sufficient
correctness by the stars, and that when those celestial objects were
visible they were never at a loss.”
When this question was disposed of, the court wished to be informed,
“Whether I knew anything of the coast of France, and whether I had ever
been stationed off it?” It struck me that the shipwreck of the _Hussar_
was a pretty clear proof that there was one part of the coast, at least,
of which it would appear we had but an imperfect knowledge; but, smiling
at the question, I replied, “That every naval officer of England was by
far better acquainted with the French coast than even with his own.” I
mollified this allusion to our blockading every port of France, and
triumphantly sailing round her coasts, by adding, “That we could hardly
go up and down Channel without acquiring a knowledge of the northern
coast of France;” and at length I left no doubt on their minds with
respect to our local knowledge of it. The questions were the same to all
the rest, and we were then again reconducted to our prison.
In a week we were ordered to prepare ourselves for a march to the
fortress of Bitche, in Lorraine, a wretched place, well known to many of
our unhappy countrymen; a place in the dreadful caverns of which many a
valuable British subject had terminated his existence in all the agony
that illness, despondency, and ill-usage could create. This was my
transition from the expected fate of being shot. And here, in some
wretched _souterrain_, we were to remain during the war; nay, they even
asserted that it was Buonaparte’s own decree. Death was preferable to
such a sentence; but we were resolved to make another effort at all
risks, and, if possible, to regain our liberty. Cash alone was wanting.
I, however, procured a small supply through the interposition of a
worthy countryman, notwithstanding the strict guard that was kept over
us. My Samaritan, or friend in need, was the Rev. C. Launcelot Lee (a
_détenu_), Fellow of New College, Oxford, from whom I had at all times
received great kindness. He contrived now to assist me in my extreme
distress, by giving the money to Mr. Galliers, another worthy
Englishman, who had acted as our interpreter. The object was effected
dexterously; for Mr. Galliers, in taking leave, at the moment of our
setting out for Bitche, when surrounded by the _gendarmes_, cordially
gave me his hand to shake, and pressed the precious treasure into mine.
I was obliged to keep this act of generosity a profound secret; for, had
it been discovered, it would have been of serious consequences to my two
friends.