PAROLE PRISONERS IN SCOTLAND (_continued_)
SANQUHAR
The first prisoners came here in March 1812. They were chiefly some of
those who had been hurried away from Wincanton and other towns in the
west of England at the alarm that a general rising of war-prisoners in
those parts was imminent, and on account of the increasing number of
escapes from those places; others were midshipmen from Peebles. In all
from sixty to seventy prisoners were at Sanquhar. A letter from one of
the men removed from Peebles to Mr. Chambers of that town says that they
were extremely uncomfortable; such kind of people as the inhabitants had
no room to spare; the greater part of the Frenchmen were lodged in barns
and kitchens; they could get neither beef nor mutton, nothing but salted
meat and eggs. They applied to the Transport Office, in order to be
removed to Moffat.
The prisoners at Sanquhar left behind them, when discharged at the Peace
of 1814, debts amounting to £160, but these were paid by the French
Commissioners charged with effecting the final exchanges in that year.
One duel is recorded. It was fought on the Washing Green, and one of the
combatants was killed. Mr. Tom Wilson, in his _Memorials of Sanquhar
Kirkyard_, identifies the victim as Lieutenant Arnaud, whose grave bears
the inscription:
‘In memory of J. B. Arnaud, aged 27 years, Lieutenant in the French
Navy, prisoner of war on parole at Sanquhar. Erected by his companions
in arms and fellow prisoners as a testimony of their esteem and
attachment. He expired in the arms of friendship, 9th November, 1812.’
It had been announced that he died of small-pox, but Mr. Wilson thinks
this was put out as a blind.
Some changes of French names into English are to be noted here as
elsewhere. Thus, Auguste Gregoire, cabin boy of the _Jeune Corneille_
privateer, captured in 1803, was confined at Peebles, and later at
Sanquhar. He married a Peebles girl, but as she absolutely refused to go
with him to France when Peace was declared in 1814 he was obliged to
remain, and became a teacher of dancing and deportment under the name of
Angus MacGregor. So also one Etienne Foulkes became Etney Fox; Baptiste
became Baptie, and Walnet was turned into Walden.
There was a Masonic Lodge at Sanquhar—the ‘Paix Désirée’.
The banks of Crawick were a favourite resort of the prisoners, and on a
rock in the Holme Walks is cut ‘Luego de Delizia 1812’, and to the
right, between two lines, the word ‘Souvenir’. The old bathing place of
the prisoners, behind Holme House, is still known as ‘The Sodger’s
Pool’.
Hop-plants are said to have been introduced hereabouts by the
prisoners—probably Germans.
Mr. James Brown thus writes about the prisoners at Sanquhar:
‘They were Frenchmen, Italians and Poles—handsome young fellows, who had
all the manners of gentlemen, and, living a life of enforced idleness,
they became great favourites with the ladies with whose hearts they
played havoc, and, we regret to record, in some instances with their
virtue.’
‘This’, says the Rev. Matthew Dickie, of the South United Free Church,
Sanquhar, ‘is only too true. John Wysilaski, who left Sanquhar when
quite a youth and became a “settler” in Australia, was the illegitimate
son of one of the officers. This John Wysilaski died between 25 and 30
years of age, and left a large fortune. Of this he bequeathed £60,000 to
the Presbyterian Church of Victoria, and over £4,000 to the church with
which his mother had been connected, viz. the South Church, Sanquhar,
and he directed the interest of this sum to be paid to the Minister of
the South Church over and above his stipend. The same Polish officer had
another son by another woman, Louis Wysilaski, who lived and died in his
native town. I remember him quite well.’
DUMFRIES
The first detachment of officer-prisoners arrived at Dumfries in
November 1811, from Peebles, whence they had marched the thirty-two
miles to Moffat, and had driven from there. The agent at Dumfries was
Mr. Francis Shortt, Town Clerk of the Burgh, and brother of Dr. Thomas
Shortt, who, as Physician to the British Forces at St. Helena, was to
assist, ten years later, at the post-mortem examination of Bonaparte.
At first the prices asked by the inhabitants for lodgings somewhat
astonished the prisoners, being from fifteen to twenty-five shillings a
week, but in the end they were moderately accommodated and better than
in Peebles. Their impressions of Dumfries were certainly favourable, for
not only had they in Mr. Shortt a just and kindly Agent, but the
townsfolk and the country gentry offered them every sort of hospitality.
In a letter to Mr. Chambers of Peebles, one of them says: ‘The
inhabitants, I think, are frightened with Frenchmen, and run after us to
see if we are like other people; the town is pretty enough, and the
inhabitants, though curious, seem very gentle.’
Another, after a visit to the theatre, writes in English:
‘I have been to the theatre of the town, and I was very satisfied with
the actors; they are very good for a little town like Dumfries, where
receipts are not very copious, though I would have very much pleasure
with going to the play-house now and then. However, I am deprived of it
by the bell which rings at five o’clock, and if I am not in my lodging
by the hour appointed by the law, I must at least avoid to be in the
public meeting, at which some inhabitants don’t like to see me.’
It was long before the natives could get used to certain peculiarities
in the Frenchmen’s diet, particularly frogs. A noted Dumfries character,
George Hair, who died a few years ago, used to declare that ‘the first
siller he ever earned was for gatherin’ paddocks for the Frenchmen’, and
an aged inmate of Lanark Poorhouse, who passed his early boyhood at
Dumfries, used to tell a funny frog story. He remembered that fifteen or
sixteen prisoners used to live together in a big house, not far from his
father’s, and that there was a meadow near at hand where they got great
store of frogs. Once there was a Crispin procession at Dumfries, and a
Mr. Renwick towered above all the others as King.
‘The Crispin ploy, ye ken, cam frae France, an’ the officers in the big
hoose askit the King o’ the cobblers tae dine wi’ them. They had a gran’
spread wi’ a fine pie, that Maister Renwick thocht was made o’ rabbits
toshed up in some new fangled way, an’ he didna miss tae lay in a guid
stock. When a’ was owre, they askit him how he likit his denner, an’ he
said “First rate”. Syne they lauched and speered him if he kent what the
pie was made o’, but he said he wasna sure. When they tell’t him it was
paddocks, it was a’ ane as if they had gien him a dose of pizzen. He
just banged up an’ breenged oot the hoose. Oor bit winnock lookit oot on
the Frenchmen’s backyaird, an’ we saw Maister Renwick sair, sair
forfochen, but after a dainty bit warsle, he an’ the paddocks pairtit
company.’
It is recorded that the French prisoners considered a good fat cat an
excellent substitute for a hare.
At a fire, two French surgeons who distinguished themselves in fighting
it, were, on a petition from the inhabitants to the Transport Board,
allowed to return immediately to France. But another surgeon who applied
to be sent to Kelso as he had a relative there, was refused permission—a
refusal, which, it is quite possible, was really a compliment, for the
records of parole life in Britain abound with evidence of the high
estimation in which French prisoner-surgeons were held in our country
towns.
Between thirty and forty officers tried to escape from Dumfries during
the three years of its being a Parole Town; most of these were
recaptured, and sent to Valleyfield Prison. Four officers took advantage
of the fishing-licence usually extended to the officers on parole here,
by which strict adherence to the mile limit was not insisted upon, and
gradually got their belongings away to Lochmaben, eight miles distant,
where were also parole prisoners. One of them actually wrote to the
Colonel of the Regiment stationed in Dumfries, apologizing for his
action, explaining it, promising that he would get an English
officer-prisoner in France exchanged, and that he would not take up arms
against her, and that he would repay all the civilities he had received
in Scotland. But all were recaptured and sent to Valleyfield.
As instances of the strictness with which even a popular agent carried
out his regulations, may be cited that of the officer here, who was sent
to Valleyfield because he had written to a lady in Devonshire, enclosing
a letter to a friend of his. a prisoner on parole there, without first
showing it to the Agent. In justice to Mr. Shortt, however, it is right
to say that had the letter been a harmless one, and not, as was
generally the case, full of abuse of the Government and the country, so
extreme a view would not have been taken of the breach. Another instance
was the refusal by the Agent of a request in 1812 from the officers to
give a concert. In this case he was under orders from the Transport
Office.
In March 1812, a number of the prisoners had at their own request copies
of the Scriptures supplied them in English, French, German, Italian, and
Spanish.
That the French officers on parole in Britain politically arranged their
allegiance to the Powers that were, is exemplified by the following
incidents at Dumfries. On the re-establishment of the Bourbon Dynasty,
the following address was drawn up and sent to the French Commissioners
for the release of prisoners:
‘Dumfries, le 6 Mai 1814.
‘Les officiers détenus sur parole donnent leur adhésion aux actes du
Gouvernement Français qui rappelle l’illustre sang des Bourbons, au
trône de ses ancêtres. Puissent les Français compter une longue suite de
rois du sang de Saint Louis et de Henri IV, qui a toujours fait leur
gloire et assuré leur bonheur! Vive Louis XVIII! Vivent les Bourbons!’
On the 24th of the same month a French officer, seeing in the window of
a bookseller’s shop a ludicrous caricature of Bonaparte, went into the
shop in a violent passion, bought two copies, and tore them in pieces
before a crowd of people, uttering dreadful imprecations against those
who dared to insult ‘his Emperor’. The fact is that the army to a man
was Bonapartist at heart, as after events showed, but at Dumfries, as
elsewhere, personal interests rendered it politic to assume loyalty and
devotion to the re-established Royalty. Most of the prisoners, however,
who elected to remain in Britain after the Declaration of Peace were
unswerving Royalists. Lieutenant Guillemet at Dumfries was one of these.
He became a professor of French at Dumfries Academy and also gave
lessons in fencing, and was a great favourite with his pupils and the
public. His son was for many years a chemist at Maxwelltown.
The average number of prisoners was about 100: they were mostly
soldiers, and not sailors, on account of the proximity of Dumfries to
the sea. I cannot refrain from adding to the frequent testimonies I have
quoted as illustrating the good understanding which existed between
captors and captives in Scotland, the following extract from a Farewell
Letter which appeared in the _Dumfries Courier_, April 26, 1814,
contributed by Lieutenant De Montaignac of the ‘Parisian Guard’.
‘I should indeed be very ungrateful were I to leave this country without
publicly expressing my gratitude to the inhabitants of Dumfries. From
the moment of my arrival in Scotland, the vexations indispensable in the
situation of a prisoner have disappeared before me. I have been two
years and five months in this town, prisoner on my parole of honour; and
it is with the most lively emotion that I quit a place where I have
found so many alleviations to my melancholy situation. I must express my
thanks to the generous proceedings with which I have been loaded by the
most part of the inhabitants of Dumfries during my captivity,
proceedings which cannot but give an advantageous opinion of the
Scottish nation. I will add that the respectable magistrates of this
town have constantly given proofs of their generous dispositions to
mitigate the situation of the prisoners; and that our worthy Agent, Mr.
Shortt, has always softened our lot by the delicate manner in which he
fulfilled the duty of his functions. It is then with a remembrance full
of gratitude, esteem, and consideration for the honest inhabitants of
Dumfries, that I quit the charming banks of the Nith to return to the
capital of France, my beloved country, from which I have been absent
seven years.’
For the following romantic incidents I am indebted to Mr. William
McDowell’s _Memorials of St. Michael’s, Dumfries_.
Polly Stewart, the object of one of Burns’s minor poems, married a
Dumfries prisoner of war. She lived at Maxwelltown, and her father was a
close friend of Burns. A handsome young Swiss prisoner, Fleitz by name,
loved her and married her, and when Louis XVIII came to the French
throne, he, being in the Swiss Guard, took her to France. When Louis
Philippe became king, the Swiss body-guard was disbanded, and Mr. and
Mrs. Fleitz went to Switzerland. It is said that poor Polly had an
unhappy married life, but at any rate nothing was heard of her for
thirty years, when she returned to Scotland, and not long after her
husband died and she went to a cousin in France. Here her mind gave way,
and she was placed in an asylum, where she died in 1847, aged 71.
On the tombstone, in St. Michael’s churchyard, of Bailie William
Fingass, who died in 1686, is an inscription to a descendant, Anna
Grieve, daughter of James Grieve, merchant, who died in 1813, aged 19,
with the following lines subjoined:
‘Ta main, bienfaisante et chérie,
D’un exil vient essuyer les pleurs,
Tu me vis loin de parens, de patrie,
Et le même tombeau, lorsque tu m’as ravie,
Renferme nos deux cœurs.’
The story is this. One of the French prisoners on parole at Dumfries
fell in love with pretty Anna Grieve, and she regarded his suit with
kindness. Had she lived they would probably have been married, for he
was in a good position and in every way worthy of her hand. When she
died in the flower in her youth, he was overwhelmed with grief, and
penned the above-quoted epitaph. After a lapse of about forty-six years,
a gentleman of dignified bearing and seemingly about seventy years old,
entered St. Michael’s churchyard, and in broken English politely
accosted Mr. Watson, who was busy with his chisel on one of the
monuments. He asked to be shown the spot where Mademoiselle Grieve was
buried, and on being taken to it exhibited deep emotion. He read over
the epitaph, which seemed to be quite familiar to him, and it was
apparent that it was engraved upon the tablets of his memory, he being
none other than the lover of the lady who lay below, and for whom,
although half a century had elapsed, he still retained his old
attachment.
(I should say here that for many of the details about Sanquhar and
Dumfries I am indebted in the first place to Mrs. Macbeth Forbes, for
permission to make use of her late husband’s notes on the prisoner-life
at these places, and in the second to the hon. secretary of the
Dumfriesshire and Galloway Natural History and Antiquarian Society, for
the use of a résumé by him of those notes.)
MELROSE
In the life of Dr. George Lawson, of Selkirk, the French prisoners on
parole at Melrose are alluded to. The doctor astonished them with his
knowledge of the old-world French with which they were unacquainted, and
several pages of the book are devoted to the eloquent attempts of one of
the prisoners to bring him to the Roman Catholic communion.
Appended to the minutes of the Quarterly Meeting of the Melrose
Freemasons on September 25, 1813, in an account of the laying the
foundation-stone of a public well, there is the following reference to
the French prisoners interned at Melrose (the minutes of the Kelso,
Selkirk, and other lodges record the fraternal exchange of courtesies,
and the reception of these alien Brethren into the lodges, but at
Melrose it would seem that these Brethren held a lodge of their own,
which they no doubt worked in their native tongue and style, by leave
and warrant of the Melrose Lodge):
‘The French Brethren of the Lodge of St. John under the distinctive
appellation of _Benevolence_ constituted by the French prisoners of war
on parole here, were invited to attend, which the Master,
office-bearers, and many of the Brethren accordingly did.’
The lodge has preserved in its archives a document with the names of the
French prisoners, adhibited to an expression of their appreciation of
the kindness they had received during their sojourn at Melrose, which
was given to the Brethren at the conclusion of the war when they were
permitted to return to their own country and homes.
JEDBURGH
Mr. Maberley Phillips, F.S.A., from whose pamphlet on prisoners of war
in the North I shall quote later (pp. 388–9) a description of an escape
of paroled prisoners from Jedburgh, says:
‘Jedburgh had its share of French prisoners. They were for the most part
kindly treated, and many of them were permitted a great amount of
liberty. One of these had a taste for archaeology and visited all the
ruins within the precincts of his radius, namely, a mile from the Cross.
There is a tradition that on one of his excursions, he was directed to a
ruin about a quarter of a mile beyond his appointed mark, which happened
to be a milestone. He asked the Provost for permission to go beyond;
that worthy, however, refused, but he quietly added: “If Mr. Combat did
walk a short distance beyond the mile and nobody said anything, nothing
would come of it.” But the Frenchman had given his word of honour, and
he could not break it. A happy thought struck him. He borrowed a barrow
one afternoon, and with it and the necessary implements proceeded out to
the obnoxious milestone. Having “unshipped” the milestone, he raised it
on to the barrow, and triumphantly wheeled it to the required distance,
where he fixed it.... For a generation the stone stood where the
Frenchman placed it, no one being any the worse for the extra extent of
the Scotch mile.’
Many of the prisoners were naval officers and were deeply versed in
science, including navigation and astronomy. A favourite resort of these
was Inchbonny, the abode of James Veitch, the self-taught astronomer.
Inchbonny is situated up the Jed about half a mile from Jedburgh. Among
the prisoners who made a point of visiting Veitch’s workshop we may
mention Scot, an old naval lieutenant, who with a long grey coat was to
be seen at every gleam of sunshine at the Meridian line with compasses
in hand, resolving to determine the problem of finding the longitude,
and M. Charles Jehenne, who belonged to the navy, and who was captured
at the battle of Trafalgar. He on that memorable day from the masthead
of his vessel observed the British fleet under Nelson bearing down upon
the French and Spanish vessels. ‘They saw us’, he was wont to say,
‘before we saw them.’ He was a constant visitor to the workshop, and
constructed a telescope there for his own use. He was most agreeable in
his manner, and careful not to give any trouble when doing any work for
himself with Veitch’s tools. He also was an astronomer, and would often
stay out at Inchbonny, in order to view the stars through Veitch’s
telescopes, until long after the tolling of the bell which warned the
prisoners that the daily period of liberty had again expired. In order
that he might escape being noticed by the observant eyes of any who
might be desirous of obtaining the reward given for a conviction, he
usually got the loan of Veitch’s plaid, and, muffled in this, reached
his quarters undetected.
[Illustration:
JEDBURGH ABBEY, 1812
_From a painting by Ensign Bazin, a French prisoner of war_
]
Billeted along with Jehenne, and staying in the same room, was Ensign
Bazin, of St. Malo, a man of quiet demeanour, captured on the _Torche_
corvette in 1805. He was very talented with his pencil, and fond of
drawing sketches of Jedburgh characters, many of which are preserved at
Inchbonny. He made a painting of Jedburgh Abbey, which he dedicated to
Mr. Veitch, dated 1812. In this picture the French prisoners are seen
marching on the ramparts, and, in the original, their faces and forms,
as also those of many local characters, are so admirably sketched as to
be easily recognizable. A duplicate of this picture he sent home to his
mother. Mrs. Grant of Laggan perhaps had Bazin in view when in her
_Memoir of a Highland Lady_, she wrote:
‘A number of French prisoners, officers, were on parole at Jedburgh.
Lord Buchanan, whom we met there, took us to see a painting in progress
by one of them; some battlefield, all the figures portraits from memory.
The picture was already sold and part paid for, and another ordered,
which we were very glad of, the handsome young painter having interested
us much.’
In October 1813, Bazin received a pass to be sent to Alresford, and he
was noted, ‘to be exchanged at the first opportunity. Has been long
imprisoned, and is a great favourite.’ He was of wealthy parents, and
got back to France some time before his fellow prisoners were released.
Mrs. Grant thus spoke of the Jedburgh prisoners:
‘The ingenuity of the French prisoners of all ranks was amazing, only to
be equalled by their industry; those of them unskilled in higher arts
earned for themselves most comfortable additions to their allowance by
turning bits of wood, bones, straw, almost anything in fact, into neat
toys of many sorts, eagerly bought up by all who met with them.’
At Mr. Veitch’s house, Inchbonny, may be seen by those fortunate enough
to have a personal introduction, much of the French prisoner
handiwork—sketches, telescopes, and an electric machine with which the
poor fellows had much fun, connecting it with wires to a plate on the
window-sill below, whereto they would invite passers-by—generally
girls—for a chat and a joke, the result being a shock which sent them
flying.
It is stated that when the word came that the Frenchmen were to be
allowed to return to their native land, they caused their manufactures
and other articles to be ‘rouped’. One of the prisoners whose knowledge
of the English language, even after his prolonged stay in this quarter,
was very limited, was delegated to obtain the sanction of the Provost of
the Burgh to hold such roup. He who at this time graced the office of
provostship had a draper’s shop in Canongate, and hither the Frenchman
went on his errand. His lack of knowledge of the popular tongue,
however, proved to be an inconvenience, for, on arriving at the shop, he
could only request ‘A rope! A rope!’ The draper had his customary supply
of old ropes, and, willing to oblige, brought them out, to the
perplexity of the visitor, and commenced to ‘wale out the best of them’.
Seeing that his would-be benefactor was obviously mistaken, the French
envoy reiterated his former request, and supplemented this by adding in
a style which would have done credit to any auctioneer, ‘One, Two,
Tree!’ Light dawned upon the Provost’s comprehension, and the necessary
permission was not long in being granted.
Many of the prisoners are supposed to have rejoined Bonaparte on his
return from Elba, and to have fallen at Waterloo.
The officers were billeted among private citizens, says Mr. Forbes,
while several occupied quarters immediately under the Clock Tower. Being
young and lusty, they were dowered with an exceedingly good appetite,
and as they got little to eat so far as their allowance went, some of
them used to have a pulley and hoist their loaves of bread to near the
ceiling to prevent themselves from devouring them all, and to ensure
something being left over for next repast.
The prisoners were not commonly spoken of by name, but were known by the
persons with whom they resided, e.g., ‘Nannie Tamson’s Frenchman’,
‘Widow Ross’s Frenchman’. The boys were a great plague to the Frenchmen,
for when a great victory was announced their dominie gave them a
holiday, and the youngsters celebrated it too frequently by jeering the
prisoners, and by shouting and cheering. The boys at a school then
beside the road at No. 1 Milestone, were prominent in these triumphant
displays, and sometimes pelted the prisoners with stones.
The manners of the Jedburgh prisoners are thus alluded to in the _False
Alarm_, a local pamphlet:
‘They were very polite, and not infrequently put us rough-spun Scotchmen
to the blush with their polished manners. They came in course of time to
be liked, but it seems some of the older members of the community could
never be brought to fraternize with them. One old man actually pointed
his gun at them, and threatened to fire because they had exceeded their
walking limit.’
An aged Jedburgh lady’s reminiscences are interesting. She says:
‘Among the officers was M. Espinasse, who settled in Edinburgh after the
Peace and engaged in teaching; Baron Goldshord or Gottshaw, who married
a Jedburgh lady, a Miss Waugh; another, whose name I do not remember,
married a Miss Jenny Wintrope, who went with him to the South of France.
There was a Captain Rivoli, also a Captain Racquet, and a number of
others who were well received by the townspeople, and frequently invited
to parties in their homes, to card-clubs, etc. They were for the most
part pleasant, agreeable gentlemen, and made many friends. Almost all of
them employed themselves in work of some kind, besides playing at
different kinds of games, shooting small birds, and fishing for trout.
They much enjoyed the liberty granted them of walking one mile out of
the town in any direction, as within that distance there were many
beautiful walks when they could go out one road, turn, and come back by
another. During their stay, when news had been received of one great
British victory, the magistrates permitted rejoicing, and a great
bonfire was kindled at the Cross, and an effigy of Napoleon was set on a
donkey and paraded round the town by torchlight, and round the bonfire,
and then cast into the flames. I have often heard an old gentleman, who
had given the boots and part of the clothing, say he never regretted
doing anything so much in his life, as helping on that great show, when
he saw the pain it gave to these poor gentlemen-prisoners, who felt so
much at seeing the affront put upon their great commander.
‘The French prisoners have always been ingenious in the use they made of
their meat bones ... they took them and pounded them into a powder which
they mixed with the soft food they were eating. It is even said that
they flourished on this dissolved phosphate of lime and gelatine.
‘There was an old game called “cradles” played in those days. Two or
three persons clasp each other’s hands, and when their arms are held
straight out at full length, a person is placed on these stretched
hands, who is sent up in the air and down again, landing where he
started from. A farmer thought he would try the experiment on the
Frenchmen. Some buxom lassies were at work as some of them passed, and
he gave the girls the hint to treat the foreigners to the “cradles”.
Accordingly two of them were jerked well up in the air to fall again on
the sturdy hands of the wenches. The experiment was repeated again and
again until the Frenchmen were glad to call a halt.’
Parole-breaking was rather common, and began some months after the
officers arrived in the town. A party of five set out for Blyth in
September 1811, but were brought to Berwick under a military escort, and
lodged in jail. Next day they were marched to Penicuik under charge of a
party of the Forfarshire Militia. Three of them were good-looking young
men; one in particular had a very interesting countenance, and, wishing
one day to extend his walk, in order to get some watercress for salad,
beyond the limit of the one-mile stone, uprooted it, and carried it in
his arms as far as he wished to go.
Three other officers were captured the same year, and sent to Edinburgh
Castle, and in 1813 occurred the escape and capture to be described
later (p. 388).
The highest number of prisoners at Jedburgh was 130, and there were
three deaths during their stay.
HAWICK
I owe my best thanks to Mr. J. John Vernon, hon. secretary of the Hawick
Archaeological Society, for the following note on Hawick:
‘Not many of Napoleon’s officers were men of means, so to the small
allowance they received from the British Government, they were permitted
to eke out their income by teaching, sketching, or painting, or by
making little trifles which they disposed of as best they could among
the townspeople. At other times they made a little money by giving
musical and dramatic entertainments, which proved a source of enjoyment
to the audience and of profit to themselves.
‘Though “prisoners”, they had a considerable freedom, being allowed to
go about as they pleased anywhere within a radius of a mile from the
Tower Knowe. During their residence in Hawick they became very popular
among all classes of the people and much regret was expressed when the
time came for their returning to the Continent. Hawick society was
decidedly the poorer by their departure. Paradoxical it may seem, but
most of those who were termed “French Prisoners” were in reality of
German extraction: Fifteen of their number became members of the
Freemasons, St. John’s Lodge, No. 111. They were lodged in private
houses throughout the towns. No. 44 High Street was the residence of a
number of them, who dwelt in it from June 1812 to June 1814.’
Speaking of Freemasonry in Hawick, Mr. W. Fred Vernon says:
‘Each succeeding year saw the Lodge more thinly attended. An impetus to
the working and attendance was given about 1810 by the affiliation and
initiation of several of the French prisoners of war who were billeted
in the town, and from time to time to the close of the war in 1815, the
attendance and prosperity of the Lodge was in striking contrast to what
it had been previously.’
The following extracts are from a book upon Hawick published by Mr. J.
John Vernon in November 1911.
‘One of Bonaparte’s officers, compelled to reside for nearly two years
in Hawick, thus expressed himself regarding the weather during the
winter, and at the same time his opinion of the people. In reply to a
sympathetic remark that the weather must be very trying to one who had
come from a more genial climate, the officer said:
‘“It is de devil’s wedder, but you have de heaven contré for all dat.
You have de cold, de snow, de frozen water, and de sober dress; but you
have de grand constitution, and de manners and equality that we did
fight for so long. I see in your street de priest and de shoemaker; de
banker and de baker, de merchant and de hosier all meet together, be
companions and be happy. Dis is de equality dat de French did fight for
and never got, not de ting de English newspapers say we want. Ah!
Scotland be de fine contré and de people be de wise, good men.... De
English tell me at Wincanton dat de Scots be a nation of sauvages. It
was a lie. De English be de sauvages and de Scots be de civilized
people. De high Englishman be rich and good; de low Englishman be de
brute. In Scotland de people be all de same! Oh! Scotland be a fine
contré!
‘The fact that so many of the French prisoners of war were quartered in
Hawick from 1812–14 did much towards brightening society during that
time. Pity for their misfortunes prevailed over any feeling that the
name “Frenchman” might formerly have excited, and they were welcomed in
the homes of the Hawick people. It heartened them to be asked to dinner;
as one of them remarked: “De heart of hope do not jump in de hungry
belly”, and many valued friendships were thus formed.’
‘The presence of so many well-dressed persons for so long a period
produced a marked reform in the costume of the inhabitants of Hawick,’
says James Wilson in his _Annals of Hawick_.
The first prisoners came to Hawick in January 1812. Of these,
thirty-seven came from Wincanton, forty-one came direct from Spain a
little later, thirty-seven from Launceston. The prisoners had been sent
hither from such distant places as Launceston and Wincanton on account
of the increasing number of escapes from these places, the inhabitants
of both of which, as we have seen, were notoriously in sympathy with the
foreigners. Two surgeons came from the Greenlaw dépôt to attend on them.
Mr. William Nixon, of Lynnwood, acted as agent, or commissary, and by
the end of 1812 he had 120 prisoners in his charge. A few of the Hawick
prisoners were quite well-to-do. There is a receipt extant of a Captain
Grupe which shows that he had a monthly remittance from Paris of £13
4_s._ 6_d._, in addition to his pay and subsistence money as a prisoner
of war.
In the _Kelso Mail_ of June 20, 1814, is the following testimony from
the prisoners, on leaving, to the kind and hospitable treatment they had
so generally received:
‘Hawick, May 2, 1814.
‘The French officers on parole at Hawick, wishing to express their
gratitude to the inhabitants of the town and its vicinity for the
liberal behaviour which they have observed to them, and the good opinion
which they have experienced from them, unanimously request the
Magistrates and Mr. Nixon, their Commissary, to be so kind as to allow
them to express their sentiments to them, and to assure them that they
will preserve the remembrance of all the marks of friendship which they
have received from them. May the wishes which the French officers make
for the prosperity of the town and the happiness of its inhabitants be
fully accomplished. Such is the most ardent wish, the dearest hope of
those who have the honour to be their most humble servants.’
In some cases intercourse did not cease with the departure of the
prisoners, and men who had received kindnesses as aliens kept up
correspondence with those who had pitied and befriended them.
On May 18, 1814, the officers at Hawick, mostly, if not entirely,
Bonaparte’s soldiers, drifted with the Royalist tide, and sent an
address to Louis XVIII, conceived in much the same terms as that from
Dumfries already quoted, speaking of ‘the happy events which have taken
place in our country, and which have placed on the throne of his
ancestors the illustrious family of Bourbon’, and adding, ‘we lay at the
feet of the worthy descendant of Henry IV the homage of our entire
obedience and fidelity’.
The prisoners were always welcome visitors at the house of Goldielands
adjoining the fine old peel tower of that name, and I give the following
pleasant testimony of one of them:
‘To Mr. Elliott of Goldielands:
‘SIR,
‘Very sorry that before my leaving Scotland I could not have the
pleasure of passing some hours with you. I take the liberty of
addressing you these few lines, the principal object of which is to
thank you for all the particular kindness and friendship you honoured me
with during my stay in this country. The more lively I always felt this
your kindness since idle prejudices had not the power over you to treat
us with that coldness and reserve which foreigners, and the more so,
prisoners of war in Britain, so often meet with.
‘If in the case only that my conduct whilst I had the honour of being
acquainted with you, has not met with your disapproval, I pray you to
preserve me, even so far off, your friendship. To hear sometimes of you
would certainly cause me great pleasure.
‘Pray acquaint Mrs. Elliott and the rest of your family of the high
esteem with which I have the honour to be, Sir,
‘Your humble servant,
‘G. DE TALLARD, Lieut.
‘Hawick, March 11, 1814.’
LAUDER
I am indebted to the late Mr. Macbeth Forbes for these notes.
There hangs in one of the rooms of Thirlestane Castle, the baronial
residence of the Earls of Lauderdale, an oil-painting executed by a
French prisoner of war, Lieutenant-Adjutant George Maurer of the
Hesse-Darmstadt Infantry. He is described in the Admiralty Records as a
youth of twenty, with hazel eyes, fresh complexion, five feet nine and
three-quarter inches in height, well made, but with a small sword scar
on his left cheek. Although his production is by no means a striking
work of art, it is nevertheless cherished as a memento of the time
when—a hundred years ago—French prisoners were billeted in Lauder,
Berwickshire, and indulged in pleasant intercourse with the inhabitants
of this somewhat remote and out-of-the-way country town. In the left
corner of the painting, which represents Lauder as seen from the west,
is a portrait, dated August 1813, of the artist decked in a sort of
Tam-o’-Shanter bonnet, swallow-tailed coat, and knee breeches, plying
his brush.
The average number of prisoners at Lauder was between fifty and sixty,
and the average age was twenty-six. They appear to have conducted
themselves with great propriety in the quiet town; none of them was ever
sent to the Tolbooth. They resided for the most part with burgesses, one
of whom was James Haswell, a hairdresser, whose son remembered two of
the prisoners who lived in his father’s house, and who made for him and
his brothers, as boys, suits of regimentals with cocked hats, and
marched them through the town with bayonets at their sides.
About the end of January 1812, Captain Pequendaire, of _L’Espoir_
privateer, escaped. At Lauder he never spoke a word of English to any
one, and about six weeks after his arrival he disappeared. It came out
that he had walked to Stow, near Lauder, and taken the coach there, and
that he had got off because he spoke English so perfectly as to pass for
a native!
Angot, second captain of _L’Espoir_, was released upon the
representation of inhabitants of St. Valery, that he with others had
saved the lives of seventy-nine British seamen wrecked on the coast.
A duel took place on a terrace on the east side of Lauderdale Castle
between two prisoners armed with razors fastened to the end of
walking-sticks. No harm was done on this occasion.
The prisoners were always kindly and hospitably treated by the
inhabitants. On one occasion some of them were at a dinner-party at Mr.
Brodie’s, a farmer of Pilmuir. The farm was beyond the one-mile limit,
but no notice would have been taken if the prisoners had duly reported
themselves and enabled the Agent to make the necessary declaration, but,
unfortunately, a heavy snowstorm prevented them from getting back to
Lauder, and the report went in that So-and-so had not appeared. The
Transport Board at once dealt with the matter, and the parish Minister,
the Rev. Peter Cosens, who had been one of the party at Pilmuir, wrote
to the authorities by way of explaining, and the reply received was very
severe, the authorities expressing surprise that one in his position
should have given countenance to, and should seek to palliate or excuse,
the offence. The result to the prisoners is not known, but they were
probably let off with a fine stopped out of their allowance.
Many of the prisoners knew little or no English when they came to
Lauder. On the occasion of a detachment coming into the town, some of
the baggage had not arrived, and the interpreter of the party appeared
before the Agent, and made a low bow, and held up a finger for each
package that was wanting, and uttered the only appropriate English word
he knew, ‘Box’. Another, who wished to buy eggs, went into a shop, and,
drawing his cloak around him, sat down and clucked like a hen.
Many of the prisoners in the Scottish towns were Germans in French
service. In January 1813, the Lauder St. Luke’s Lodge of Freemasons
admitted eight Germans and one Frenchman, and it is related that on the
occasion of their induction, when the time for refreshments after
business came, the foreign installations delighted the company with
yarns of their military experiences. When the great movement for German
liberty got into full swing, Britain encouraged the French prisoners of
German nationality to fight for their own country. Accordingly the
eleven German prisoners in Lauder, belonging to the Hesse-Darmstadt
regiment, received £5 each at the end of February 1814, to pay their
expenses to Hawick, whence to proceed to the seat of war. It is related
that the joy they felt at their release was diminished by their regret
at leaving the town where they had been treated by the inhabitants with
so much marked hospitality and kindness. The evening previous to their
departure, the magistrates gave them an entertainment at the _Black
Bull_ Inn, and wished them all success in their efforts to restore
liberty and prosperity. The remaining twenty-two prisoners finally left
Lauder, June 3, 1814; others having been previously removed to Jedburgh,
Kelso, and Dumfries. While they were in Lauder some of the merchants
gave them credit, and they were honourably repaid on the prisoners’
return to their own country. Maurer, the artist before alluded to, often
revisited his friends in Lauder, and always called on and dined with the
Agent, and talked over old times.
LOCKERBIE AND LOCHMABEN
About a score of prisoners were at each of these places, but as the
record of their lives here is of very much the same character as of
prisoner life elsewhere, it hardly makes a demand upon the reader’s
attention. In both places the exiles conducted themselves peaceably and
quietly, and they, especially the doctors, were well liked by the
inhabitants.