Our departure from Verdun for Bitche--Mars-la-Tour, Metz, and
Sarrelouis--I receive a very useful present from Mr.
Brown--Sarreguemines--A last chance--A mounted guard--Thoughts of
an escape--Calculations upon a chase in a wood between
horse-soldiers and prisoners on foot--Attempt resolved upon--Signal
given--Flight from the prison caravan to the wood--French
pursuit--A prisoner recaptured--My escape from the wood into
another--My companions, I fear, less fortunate--My concealment--A
swampy bed, and a stormy sky, with a torrent of rain, for a
canopy--A prospective flight of nearly 800 miles--The misery of a
fruitless search for lost companions--Feeding on haws, and herding
with quadrupeds and vermin--A hut discovered--Hunger compels me to
enter--A compromise, a bribe, female advocacy, and an escape--On
the road to the Rhine--A preparation to sell life dearly--A narrow
escape--Living on cabbage-stalks and raw turnips--Bad feet and
worse health--A lonely house near a wood--Strong temptations to
enter--A brutal host, extreme danger, and a narrow escape--Bad
specimens of human nature.
On the morning of our departure we were joined by eight culprits at
twilight, and were placed in a large waggon, under a very strong escort
of _gendarmerie_, with a brigadier to command it. We were confined the
first night in a most miserable dungeon, in a village called
Mars-la-Tour. It was so very small, and there were so many of us, that
we could scarcely breathe. Our allowance of straw, _a pound and a half
each_, was given us to lie on: this straw was so short that it had
exactly the appearance of so many bundles of toothpicks. The following
night we were lodged in Metz gaol. We remained here several days. At
last an order came for half our number to proceed towards our
destination: two others, with us four, were accordingly commanded to get
ready. We were now in the hope of having another chance of getting out
of the clutches of our keepers, but were much mistaken; our guard
watched us closely, and we were so well secured with handcuffs and with
chains that it was impossible to attempt it. We were therefore safely
lodged in Sarrelouis gaol. This was a depot for captured seamen, and one
of punishment for officers who might transgress prison rules; but it was
many degrees superior to Bitche. Several of our countrymen obtained
permission to see us; and from one (Mr. Brown, master of H.M. gun-brig
_Mallard_, lately wrecked on the coast) I received a small map of
Germany, torn out of an old book of geography, which I carefully
stitched in the lining of my waistcoat. We were now joined by those left
in Metz prison, and were soon again on the march towards our destined
habitation. The same precautions were taken for securing us, and but
little or no hopes were left of our escaping. We arrived at
Sarreguemines, only six or seven leagues from Bitche, and were secured,
as usual, in the gaol. The next day, at about four in the afternoon, we
expected to arrive at our horrible abode. In the morning our guards came
with a large waggon, in which we were placed, and, to my great
astonishment and delight, we were not chained. I considered this as a
most wonderful circumstance, and as a favourable opportunity of escape
that ought to be embraced, particularly as there could be no hopes of
any other chance; indeed, it appeared an interposition of Divine
Providence in our favour. I communicated my intentions to my companions;
and, after we had got out of the town, we descended from our waggon,
observing to the guards that we preferred walking a little. Mr. Essel
remained in the waggon. Messrs. Ashworth and Tuthill, and Baker, of the
merchant service, with myself, were walking ahead of the waggon. We had
not got more than two or three miles when I discovered a wood at about
one hundred and fifty yards from the road: our guards were about fifty
yards behind us, and were on horseback. In so unequal a chase, a chase
between man and horse, we might be overtaken in our run to the wood; but
if we could once reach that point, we were safe, for, although there
were no leaves on the trees, we were certain that our mounted guards
could not pursue us without a great deal of difficulty, owing to the
branches and underwood; and, should they dismount, accoutred as they
were, and with their heavy boots, we knew that we could outrun them with
the greatest ease.
At length the most interesting and anxious moment arrived. We were on
the spot where the attempt could be made better than at any other. I
gave my friends the signal--a loud cheer. Away we ran: the startled
guards dug their spurs into their horses, and galloped at our heels with
the utmost speed. The ground was very heavy, a ploughed field being the
space between the road and wood. Poor Baker fell, and was instantly
seized and conducted back to the waggon with a sabre over him, and a
pistol ready to do its office, should he attempt again to escape. We
were more fortunate. We got into the wood, dodging the _gendarmes_
through brier, brake, and
[Illustration: _Escape of the Author and his Companions._
London. Edward Arnold. 1902.]
entanglement. I and my companions crossed each other several times, out
of breath, and I could barely cry to them to keep behind trees and avoid
pistol-shots; for the guards were leaping, plunging, and riding in all
directions, roaring out, in the greatest rage, the words, “_Arrétez,
coquins!_” etc. These not very agreeable epithets, in hoarse French,
assailed our ears from every point. At length my pursuers gave up the
chase of me to follow my companions; and, fortunately, finding a good
tree between me and the foe, I sat down to catch my breath and consider
what I should do. The moment I lost sight of the _gendarmes_, I bounded
towards the side of the wood opposite to the direction they had taken,
and I perceived an extensive plain, terminating in one direction in a
wood, which seemed not much more than a mile off. Without any more
deliberation I darted into the plain; its extent was about a mile; and
by the time I had reached the middle I was so out of breath that I was
obliged to stop a few minutes, and I therefore fell flat on my face,
with my mouth open, and close to the earth; and the relief was
astonishing. I lay close to the ground, that I might not be discovered.
However, another run brought me to the wood. Having thus far so
providentially escaped, I began to consider what steps I had better take
next; and, after resting a few minutes again to recover my exhausted
strength, I determined on quitting this wood, and at the extremity
opposite to that at which I calculated my pursuers might be looking out
for me, as I thought they would naturally take that direction, when a
diligent search had convinced them that I was not in the wood into which
we had first entered. Besides, I saw that the first wood was now
entirely surrounded by the peasantry; for, it being Sunday, all had
been idle, and men, women, and children caught the alarm, and hurried
like wolves to the chase. The French Government at this time gave a
reward of fifty livres, or £2. 1s. 8d., to any person who should
recapture a prisoner of war that had escaped from prison or from an
escort, and this brought out such a prodigious concourse of eager
people, as to leave me but very little hope of remaining in safety in
any place where it could be even suspected that a man might be
concealed.
On quitting this wood I conjectured that I was about three or four miles
from the road from which I had at first escaped. Immense plains, stubble
ground, meadows, fields fallow and ploughed, presented themselves to my
view, with the river Sarre close to the southward of me, but extremely
rapid, and no part of it fordable. My case appeared desperate; and, to
avoid suspicion, I thought the best method would be to walk deliberately
across those plains, taking a different direction from that of every
other person in them, but without appearing to avoid any. I put a
night-cap on, which I had in my pocket, instead of the beaver-cap I
usually wore--the night-cap being a common dress with the peasantry of
Lorraine. I passed several of them at very short distances, stopping
frequently, and seeming to walk very carelessly. At length I found
myself in a small vale, through which ran two small rivulets, forming a
little kind of island, that was covered with one hawthorn-bush, briers,
etc., sufficiently large to conceal one man. This I considered admirably
well calculated for a hiding-place; for, as it was so excessively small
and wet, I was of opinion nobody would even think of searching it. I
entered it, and was so completely covered as to be scarcely able to
discern the part through which I had first penetrated. I found it in one
sense very uncomfortable--I mean with respect to the mud, wet, and dirt
that I was obliged to wallow in; but otherwise it was a perfect paradise
to me; and all I regretted was not having my poor comrades somewhere
near me, although I comforted myself in feeling assured that they must
all have escaped, even those who did not run in the beginning, as they
were left with only the waggoner, the guards having gone in pursuit of
us. I was, indeed, some time afterwards informed that not one of the
remaining eight ever attempted to quit the waggoner, but were quietly
conducted to Bitche, where, as the reader will find, I was again
compelled to rejoin them.[12]
This was Sunday, 15th November 1807, and I lay cold and quietly enough
in my wet and muddy bed, anxiously wishing night to arrive, and dispel
part of my apprehensions. I was obliged frequently to shift from one
side to the other, the cold and moisture becoming extremely severe and
distressing. In a short time I was wet through in every part of my body,
and found the cold intense, for when I lay down in the mud I was in a
profuse state of perspiration. It did not relieve my miseries to hear
either the alarm-bells ringing in the adjacent villages, or the
whistling, howling, and shouting of the peasantry: what was still worse,
I was frequently startled by voices close to me.
But now the much-desired moment of darkness drew near: the sun was
descending; but, to my great discomfiture and mortification, with every
appearance of bad weather. It already began to rain very hard, which
obscured the moon, then about eight or nine days old. Reflecting on my
present state, I found it truly pitiable. I had only the small old map I
have already mentioned, to direct my course; and I was without compass,
guide, clothes, meat, drink, or companion, and the dreary month of
November was setting in with more than its usual inclemency. The nearest
friendly town was Salzburg, in Austria, and that was between seven and
eight hundred miles distant. This was enough to chill the ardour and
paralyse the exertions of the most dauntless; nevertheless, my having
escaped from the grasp of tyrants, and become my own master, more than
compensated, in my estimation, for a thousand hardships, sufferings, and
dangers.
About half-past seven I ventured out, shook, cleaned, and washed the mud
off my clothes as well as I could, and recommending myself to a merciful
Creator, by whose bountiful clemency I had been this day so miraculously
protected, I proceeded with great caution towards the wood in which I
had separated from my companions, for I supposed that they would keep in
it, or perhaps return there to meet me. It rained very hard, and
everything was profoundly silent. I traversed the woods for three or
four miles in different directions; but all to no purpose. Now and then
I ventured to whistle, which was the signal formerly established amongst
us, but all without success. I remained alone, dispirited, hungry, cold,
fatigued, and drenched with rain. The risk was too great to venture on
the high-road; and yet I was so nearly perishing with cold and wet that
it was impossible to remain in my place of concealment. I therefore kept
running and walking onward during the night, frequently impeded by the
course of the Sarre, which confused me greatly. At length, being very
much fatigued, and finding a convenient wood, though destitute of
leaves, I got into it, and concealed myself in a tolerably good part, a
little before daylight. I never recollect feeling or suffering so much
from cold: it had rained incessantly all this day. The whole of this day
(the 16th) I was surrounded by moles, rats, and other small animals
somewhat like squirrels; the rats often approached so near as to lick my
shoes. Their tricks and advances rather amused me, and abated in some
measure the lowness and disquietude of my mind. At the close of the
evening a swineherd passed by, conducting his hogs near my hiding-place.
I saw him very distinctly. One of the pigs took flight exactly towards
me: he sent his dog in pursuit of it; which, providentially, turned it
back, otherwise it would have absolutely run over me.
About eight o’clock I quitted my retreat. The night was again very bad.
It kept blowing and raining very hard, and I was at a loss to know what
direction to take; for never did darker and thicker clouds obscure the
light of heaven. About nine o’clock I discovered a small hut, and I
imagined that I had an opportunity of endeavouring to procure a morsel
of food of some kind. I reconnoitred it with a trembling earnestness,
and at last most cautiously approached the door. The struggle between my
eager desire to procure some sustenance, without which I must perish,
and the dread of being arrested in the attempt, may be conceived, but
cannot be described. After deliberating some length of time, hunger
preponderated over even the dread of my being again led to my dungeon;
and, with a trembling hand, I at length knocked at the door. It was
opened by a woman. I humbly asked for some bread in German, which is the
language spoken by the peasantry of Lorraine. She made signs for me to
enter, which I did.
There were three men and another woman in the house. An elderly man, who
was the only one of the party that could speak French, instantly told
me, “He was certain that I was one of the English prisoners who had
escaped from the guard on the preceding day.” He added, “That one of the
guard had just quitted the hut: he had been in search of the fugitives
all day, and had called on his way home to give the present company
information.” I did not dispute who or what I was. The fellow proceeded
to dwell on the reward of _fifty livres_ which the Government gave for
arresting a prisoner of war. “_Fifty livres_,” he added, “was an object
to poor people like them.” I perfectly understood his drift, and merely
observed, “That, although the Government promised the reward, they were
not certain when it might be paid.” I afterwards appealed to his honour
and feelings, and asked him, “What honest man, for so paltry a
recompense or amount, would prevent a poor prisoner of war, who had been
guilty of no crime whatever, from revisiting his wife, and everything
that was dear to him, after a close imprisonment for four or five
years?” He explained all that I had said to the others; and I found that
the women took my views of the subject, and were advocates for me. Upon
this, I addressed the old man again, and said, “As you appear to me to
be very worthy, honest people, accept of this trifle amongst you;” and I
gave him a _louis d’or_. I next presented the women with six livres, as
a mark of my respect for them, and they received the money very
graciously. I saw that matters now bore, or were beginning to bear, a
favourable aspect, and I accordingly took the first favourable
opportunity to assure them how very sorry I was that I had not more
money to give them. I next requested that they would show me the nearest
way to Bitche, as I had friends there who would supply me with a little
cash to enable me to proceed on my long journey. After a long discussion
in German, during which I perfectly discovered their uneasiness at not
having received more than thirty livres, the old man observed, “As there
is but one of them, it is of no great consequence; but if they all were
here, it would have been well worth while.” I could not help thinking to
myself that if we had all been present we should have been such an
over-match for them as to prevent their making the attempt, and I might
have kept my money in my pocket. I again repeated my wish to be directed
towards Bitche. I knew that there was a direct road from Bitche to the
Rhine, and this was my reason for wishing to go that way. The women
again pleaded in my favour, and at length the two young men got up and
offered their services. I accepted the offer, and they equipped
themselves, and announced that they were ready. I took a most joyful
leave of the women and old man, and followed my guides, inexpressibly
rejoiced at getting out of this danger; though I did not consider myself
perfectly safe whilst I remained with these men.
My suspicions and alarm grew stronger and stronger; for they conducted
me through very narrow, intricate ways, through deserted places, and
over heaths and commons; and they generally kept behind me; while I
observed they were always whispering together. I had, at the best, no
great opinion of them; and these circumstances were so suspicious that I
feigned occasion to remain behind a little while; and this time I
occupied in concealing my watch, money, and the small map, all of which
had hitherto been in a pocket of my pantaloons. This being done, I
advanced, assumed a light and satisfied air, but took good care not
again to take the lead of them. About midnight the men left me, on a
pathway to the road to Bitche, and took their leave. I felt much pleased
at so happy a deliverance, and continued in that direction until about
three o’clock; when, supposing myself near enough to that unhappy
mansion (Bitche), I directed my course (as I thought) towards the Rhine.
Some time before daylight it ceased raining; the stars showed
themselves, and I had the mortification of discovering that I had been
going diametrically opposite to my proper course.
In this unhappy dilemma I kept advancing, being confident that I had
passed no secure retreat. At length, some time after daylight, I
discovered a very thin wood on the side of a hill, which I immediately
betook myself to, and there I remained until night. Here I managed to
get a dry shave. My gold watch, hung upon a bush, was my only
looking-glass; but the razor was a tolerably _good one_. There was a
drizzling rain the whole of the day, and the cold was extreme.
At night, about the usual time, I commenced my journey, and took the
direction back, going over the ground which I had followed the preceding
morning; and I confess, notwithstanding my disappointment, I felt some
consolation in knowing I was at length in the right track. During the
whole of this night, my escapes from being dashed to pieces by repeated
falls down precipices, which the darkness concealed, were quite
incredible. About eleven I felt very much harassed, from crossing
fields, morasses, gullies, and ditches; and happening to hit the
high-road, I resolved to follow it for some time, especially as I
thought it my direct way, but could not be certain, as the moon and
stars were still obscured. I supposed it was too late for travellers to
interrupt me. However, after quitting a wood on the side of the road,
whence I had to crawl up a sort of gravel-pit to get on it, imagine my
astonishment!--I had no sooner stepped on the road than I was
challenged--“_Qui vive?_” (“Who goes there!”) in an audible voice, by a
_gendarme_ on horseback. I made but one jump down the gravel-pit, and
crawled thence back into the wood; where I remained for some time to
gather strength, being sadly exhausted. I then proceeded along the wood,
without having any idea where I was going, the night still very dark,
wet, and inclement. I fortunately fell in with a cabbage-garden, close
to a cottage near the wood, and ate plentifully, and I stowed a good
supply in my pockets for the ensuing day. Afterwards I re-entered the
wood, in which I remained all day. After dark I recommenced my journey.
This was the most severe night, if possible, I had yet experienced: the
roads, pathways, and fields were deep and heavy from the constant rains;
rivulets had become dangerous rivers, and I had to wade through several.
I had an opportunity again this night of feasting upon cabbage-stalks,
leaves, and turnips, and filled my pockets plentifully.
My feet now began to blister and to get very sore; and I was likewise
becoming emaciated and very weak--it being my fifth day of living upon
cabbage leaves, stalks, and raw turnips. In my first attempt at flight
our food used to be occasionally nuts, apples, and grapes; now turnips
and cabbages were my only resource.
About half-past two in the morning I perceived a small lonely house on
the side of the wood. My necessities induced me to imagine that I might
approach it without danger, and endeavour to procure some refreshment. I
saw a light in the window, got close to the door, peeped through the
keyhole and window alternately, and at last saw a woman spinning by a
rousing fire. The effect was electrical. What could be more thrilling to
a man in my deplorable state than to behold the cleanly hearth, the
blazing fire, and happy industry, amidst the comforts and simple
ornaments of the cottage? Oh, how anxiously did I wish to be seated by
that brilliant fire! The physical wants of drooping nature prevailed,
and seizing the knocker, my astonished ears heard its sound. The door
was opened by a man, who surveyed me from top to toe. I was covered all
over with mud, nor was there a thread about me that was not saturated
with rain. He could clearly perceive from my miserable appearance and
woeful aspect that I had been for a long time secluded from my
fellow-creatures, and had been doomed to associate, or rather herd, with
the animals that inhabit the caves and forests. Whilst the fellow
remained with his eyes riveted upon me, I assured him in French that I
was thirsty, and asked him if he would have the kindness to give me
something to drink. He could not speak French, but he made me understand
that he had nothing whatever to give me. I discovered a pail of water,
and pointing to it with a supplicating gesture, the churl brought me a
ladleful of it. I then took the liberty of sitting down by the fire,
though the inhospitable boor or wife never asked me. I as little liked
the appearance of the place as I did that of its brutal owner; and as it
presented to my view not a single thing, except the fire, that could be
of the slightest service to me, I resolved to take my departure. I asked
him the road to Strasbourg, and the reply was that it was close by. I
was about to quit the fireside, when a tailor arrived to work for the
family. He also began to survey me closely, and having examined me from
head to foot, I heard him whisper to the man of the house, and clearly
distinguished the words _Engländer_ and _Bitche_. In fact, the
uncharitable varlet had revealed the truth, that I was an Englishman
escaping from Bitche. He then addressed me, and asked if I were a person
authorised to travel?--whether I had a passport?--with several other
questions of the same tendency.
Exhausted as I was, I saw that boldness in this case was my only
buckler; so turning fiercely upon him, I replied that he must be a very
impudent fellow to take the liberty of asking such questions,--that I
should not condescend to answer an inquisitive gossiping rascal of his
description; and I wished to know by what authority he could presume to
interrogate me in so unhandsome a manner. The fellow pretended to smile;
but he had not expected a retort so vigorous, as I saw evidently that he
was disconcerted, if not frightened. I next observed to the landlord
that the extreme inclemency of the weather alone had occasioned my
stopping at his house, particularly as I had seen neither town, village,
nor public-house contiguous to it. I added that as there were no hopes
of the weather clearing up, I should continue my road to Strasbourg,
which the fellow assured me was twelve leagues off, whilst Bitche was
only three. At this information I was distressed and mortified to find
what little progress I had made in so many days, or rather nights. The
whole party sat down to breakfast without asking the weather-beaten,
way-bewildered stranger to partake of their meal; so he, of course, took
his leave of these selfish and unfeeling specimens of human nature; and
exchanging the blazing fire for the unpitying elements, he pursued his
solitary journey, disgusted that aught so base as what he had witnessed
could be found under the human form.