PAROLE LIFE. SUNDRY NOTES
In this and the succeeding chapter I gather together a number of notes
connected with the life of the paroled prisoners in Britain, which could
not conveniently be classed under the headings of previous chapters.
BEDALE, YORKSHIRE
During the Seven Years’ War prisoners were on parole at Bedale in
Yorkshire. The following lines referring to them, sent to me by my
friend, Mrs. Cockburn-Hood, were written by Robert Hird, a Bedale
shoemaker, who was born in 1768:
‘And this one isle by Frenchmen then in prisoners did abound,
’Twas forty thousand Gallic men. Bedale its quota found:
And here they were at liberty, and that for a long time,
Till Seventeen Hundred and Sixty Three, they then a Peace did sign,
But though at large, they had their bound, it was a good walk out,
Matthew Masterman in their round, they put him to the rout;
This was near to the Standing Stone: at Fleetham Feast he’d been,
And here poor Matthew they fell on. He soon defeated them;
His arms were long, and he struck hard, they could not bear his blows,
The French threw stones, like some petard; he ran, and thus did lose.
James Wilkinson, he lived here then, he’d sons and daughters fair,
Barber he was in great esteem, the Frenchmen oft drew there.’
To this the sender appended a note:
‘In the houses round Bedale there are hand-screens decorated with
landscapes in straw, and I have a curious doll’s chair in wood with
knobs containing cherry stones which rattle. These were made by French
prisoners, according to tradition.’
DERBY
I am indebted to Mr. P. H. Currey, F.R.I.B.A., of Derby, for the
following extract, dated June 20, 1763, from All Saints’ Parish Book,
quoted in Simpson’s _History of Derby_:
‘These men (the prisoners during the Seven Years’ War), were dispersed
into many parts of the nation, 300 being sent to this town on parole
about July 1759, where they continued until the end of the War in 1763.
Their behaviour at first was impudent and insolent, at all times vain
and effeminate, and their whole deportment light and unmanly, and we may
venture to say from our observation and knowledge of them, that in any
future war this nation has nothing to fear from them as an enemy. During
their abode here, the road from this place to Nottingham was by act of
Parliament repaired, the part from St. Mary’s Bridge (which by reason of
the floods was impassable) being greatly raised. Numbers of these people
were daily employed, who worked in their _bag-wigs_, _pig-tails_,
_ruffles_, etc., etc., a matter which afforded us much merriment. But,
to their honour let it be remembered, that scarce _one_ act of fraud or
theft was committed by any of them during their stay among us. These men
were allowed 6_d._ a day each by the British Government.’
We read that an Italian prisoner on parole at Derby in 1797 went to
Leicester and bought a pair of pistols, thus committing a double breach
of his parole by going beyond the limit, and by possessing himself of
arms. ‘It is presumed,’ remarks the chronicler, ‘from the remarkable
anxiety he showed to procure possession of these offensive weapons, that
he has some particular object to accomplish by them—perhaps his
liberation.’
It is much more likely that his object was to fight a duel.
ASHBOURNE, DERBYSHIRE
Mr. Richard Holland, of Barton under Needwood, Staffordshire, has
favoured me with this note about Ashbourne.
‘Here in 1803 were Rochambeau and 300 of his officers. The house where
the general resided is well known, and a large building was erected in
which to lodge the prisoners who could not afford to find their own
houses or apartments. I have heard that the limit of parole was two
miles.... I never heard of any breaches of parole or crimes committed by
the prisoners....
I have often heard that the prisoners made for sale many curious
articles, models, etc., ... but I remember a fine drawing of a
man-of-war on the outside wall of the prison referred to, which now
happens to belong to me.... Even fifty years ago very little was
remembered of the prisoners. One of them was a famous runner, and I knew
an old man who told me he ran a race with the Frenchman, and beat him
too!’
In 1804 General Pageot was on parole at Ashbourne. Here he seems to have
been received, like so many of his countrymen prisoners, on a footing of
friendship at the houses of the neighbouring gentry, for he received
permission to live for eight days at Wooton Lodge, the seat of Colonel
Wilson. In granting this unusual indulgence the Commissioners remark
that ‘as our people are very strictly treated in France, it is improper
that unusual indulgences be given to French prisoners, and we hope that
no other applications will be made’.
Later on the Commissioners wrote to Colonel Wilson:
‘As it appears by letters between General Pageot and some of his
countrymen that he is paying his addresses to a Lady of Respectability
in or near Ashbourne, the Board think it proper that you should be
informed that they have good authority for believing that he is actually
a married man, and has a family in France.’
Still later, writing to Mr. Bainbrigge, the Commissioners say that
General Pageot has been sent to Montgomery, and they recommend Mr.
Bainbrigge to take measures to prevent him having any communication with
the lady, Mr. Bainbrigge’s niece.
Say they:
‘From Motives of Public Duty the Commissioners, when they first heard of
the intended connexion between General Pageot and Miss Bainbrigge, they
caused such suspicious circumstances respecting the General as came to
their knowledge to be communicated to the young lady’s mother, and that
it affords them very much satisfaction now to find that her Friends are
disposed to prevent an union which could promise very little comfort to
her or Honour to her Family.’
CHESTERFIELD
My best thanks are due to Mr. W. Hawkesly Edmunds, Scarsdale House,
Chesterfield, for these notes:
‘Mrs. Roberts, widow of Lieutenant Roberts, R.N., left some interesting
reminiscences among her papers. She says:
‘Different indeed was the aspect of the town from what one sees to-day.
Grim visages and whiskered faces met one at every turn, to say nothing
of moustaches, faded uniforms, and rusty cocked hats. At certain hours
of the day it was difficult to walk along the High Street or the middle
Causeway, for these were the favourite promenades of the officers on
parole. When the weather permitted, they assembled each morning and
evening to the number of 200 to exchange friendly greetings with all the
extravagance of gesture and high-pitched voice for which the Frenchman
is remarkable.’
The French prisoners in Chesterfield in the years around 1806 were for
the most part, if not wholly, officers and their servants, and their
treatment by the English Government was liberal and mild. All officers
down to the rank of Captain, inclusive, were allowed ten shillings per
week, and all below that rank, seven shillings each. On giving their
parole they were allowed the greatest freedom; had permission to walk
one mile from the town in any direction, but had to be in their lodgings
at 8 each evening. At that hour a bell rang, known as the Frenchman’s
Bell. It was, in fact, the very bell in the tower of the church formerly
used as the curfew bell. It was in connexion with this mile regulation
that a little fraud was perpetrated by Sir Windsor Hunloke, Bart., which
was winked at by the authorities. Wingerworth Hall, the residence of Sir
Windsor, was just outside the mile limit, but with the desire that many
of the prisoners, who, like himself, were Roman Catholics, should visit
him, he caused the milestone to be removed along the road to the other
side of the hall, and so brought his residence within the mile limit.
This old milestone is still to be seen.
The prisoners were first in charge of a Commissary, a local solicitor,
Mr. John Bower, of Spital Lodge, but later the Government appointed
superannuated lieutenants in the Navy. The first of these, Lieutenant
Gawen, found that there had been so many escapes during Mr. Bower’s
kindly but lax régime that he instituted more stringent regulations, and
mustered the men twice a week instead of once, and he inspected all
correspondence both to and from the prisoners. The first detachment of
prisoners arrived in 1803, officers both of the Army and Navy; most of
them had undergone the greatest privations. These were the prisoners
from San Domingo, whose sufferings during the sieges of the blacks, and
from sickness, famine, and sword, are matters of history. Indeed, had
not the British squadron arrived, it is certain all their lives would
have been sacrificed by the infuriated blacks in revenge for the
barbarities practised on them by the French Commander-in-Chief General
Rochambeau, who, with Generals D’Henin, Boyer, and Lapoype, Commodore
Barré, and the other naval officers, with the staffs of the generals,
were all at Chesterfield.
The successes of Wellington in Spain brought many more prisoners to
Chesterfield, and a great number captured at San Sebastian and
Pampeluna.
Most of the prisoners in the town managed to add to the Government
allowance by teaching languages, drawing, and music. Others produced
various articles for sale. Many of them were excellent ornamental
workers in hair and bone, and there were not a few who were adept
wood-carvers. Making bone models of men-of-war was a favourite
occupation, and the more elaborate of these models were disposed of by
means of lotteries. Another of their industries was the working of
straw, which they dyed in gay colours, or plaited. Silk-hat making and
silk-weaving they are said to have introduced into the town. They were
also experts at making woollen gloves, &c., with a bone crook. One
Bourlemont opened a dépôt for British wines. One prisoner got employment
as a painter, but another had to seek work as a banksman at the Hady
coal-pits.
Several of the prisoners were surgeons, and practised in the town, and
it is reported that so great were the services some of these gentlemen
rendered the poor of the town gratuitously, that representations were
made to the Government, and they were given free pardons and
safe-conducts back to France.
Some prisoners married, one the daughter of Turner the Parish Clerk, but
generally beneath them.
[Illustration:
BONE MODEL OF H.M.S. _PRINCE OF WALES_
Made by prisoners of war
]
The Abbé Legoux tried to have religious services in a private house, but
they were poorly attended, the Republicans nearly all being atheists,
and preferring to pass their Sundays at card-tables and billiards.
Mrs. Roberts thus describes some peculiarities of the prisoners’ dress
and manners:
‘Their large hooped gold ear-rings, their pink or sky-blue umbrellas,
the Legion of Honour ribbons in their button holes; their profuse
exchange of embraces and even kisses in the public street; their
attendant poodles carrying walking-sticks in their mouths, and their
incessant and vociferous talking. A great source of amusement was the
training of birds and dogs.
‘There were few instances of friction between the prisoners and the
townsfolk, but there was one angry affray which led to six of the
prisoners being sent to Norman Cross to be kept in close confinement.
The wives of some of the prisoners had permission to join their husbands
in confinement, but “they were very dingy, plain-looking women.”
‘Colonel Fruile married a Miss Moore, daughter of a Chesterfield cabinet
maker, and she, like the English wives of other of the prisoners, went
to France when Peace was proclaimed. Rank distinctions between officers
were rigidly observed, and the junior officers always saluted their
superiors who held levées on certain days of the week. The fortunes of
Napoleon were closely followed; defeats and victories being marked.
During the sojourn of the French prisoners at Chesterfield, took place
the battles of Wagram, Jena, Vienna, Berlin, and the Russian campaign.
The news of Trafalgar produced great dismay, and the sight of
rejoicings—of sheep and oxen roasted whole, of gangs of men yoked
together bringing wood and coals for bonfires, was too much to bear, and
most of them shut themselves up in their lodgings until the rejoicings
were over.
‘After the Peace a few of the prisoners remained in Chesterfield, and
some of their descendants live in the town to-day. Many died, and were
buried in the “Frenchmen’s Quarter” of the now closed Parish
churchyard.’
OSWESTRY
Oswestry, in Shropshire, was an important parole town. In 1803, when
rumours were afloat that a concerted simultaneous rising of the French
prisoners of war in the Western Counties was to be carried out, a
hurried transfer of these latter was made to the more inland towns of
Staffordshire and Shropshire. and it has been stated that Oswestry
received no less than 700, but this has been authentically contradicted,
chiefly by correspondents to _Bygones_, a most complete receptacle of
old-time information concerning Shropshire and the Welsh border, access
to which I owe to the kindness of Mr. J. E. Anden of Tong, Shifnal.
Among the distinguished prisoners at Oswestry were the Marquis
d’Hautpol, on whose _Memories of Captivity in England_ I have already
drawn largely; General Phillipon, the able defender of Badajos, who
escaped with Lieut. Garnier from Oswestry; and Prince Arenburg, who was
removed thither to Bridgnorth upon suspicion of having aided a fellow
prisoner to escape.
The prisoners were, as usual, distributed in lodgings about the town;
some were at the _Three Tuns_ inn, where bullet marks in a wall are said
to commemorate a duel fought between two of them.
From the _London Chronicle_ of May 20, 1813, I take the following:
‘There is in this town (Oswestry) a French officer on parole who is
supposed by himself and countrymen to possess strength little inferior
to Samson. He is Monsieur Fiarsse, he follows the profession of a
fencing-master, and is allowed to have considerable skill in that way.
He had been boasting that he had beat every Englishman that opposed him
in the town where he was last on parole (in Devonshire), and he sent a
challenge the other day to a private of the 64th Regiment to a
boxing-match. It was accepted. The Frenchman is a very tall, stout-built
man, of a most ferocious countenance; the soldier is a little,
round-faced man, as plump as a partridge. Five rounds were fought; the
first, I understand, the Frenchman threw a blow at his adversary with
all his strength which brought him down; he rose, however, in a moment,
and played his part so well that I think M. Fiarsse will never like to
attack a British soldier again! The little fellow made him spin again,
he dealt his blows with such judgement. After the fifth round, Fiarsse
said: “It is ‘nough! I vill no moe!”’
There were French Royalist refugees at Oswestry as elsewhere, and one of
the hardest tasks of local parole agents was to prevent disturbances
between these men and their bitter opponents the Bonapartist officer
prisoners, dwelling in the same towns. In fact, the presence of large
numbers of French Royalists in England, many of them very highly
connected, brought about the very frequent attacks made on them in
contemporary French literature and journalism for playing the parts of
spies and traitors, and originated the parrot-cry at every French
diplomatic or military and naval reverse, ‘Sold by the princes in
England!’
There are graves of French prisoners in Oswestry churchyard. Upon one is
‘Ci-gît D. J. J. J. Du Vive, Capitaine-Adjudant aux États-Majors
généraux: prisonnier de guerre sur parole; né à Pau, Dép^t des
Basses-Pyrénées, 26 Juillet 1762; décédé à Oswestry, 20 Juillet 1813.’
LEEK
Leek, in Staffordshire, was also an important parole centre.
‘The officer prisoners at Leek received all courtesy and hospitality at
the hands of the principal inhabitants, with many of whom they were on
the most intimate terms, frequenting the assemblies, which were then as
gay and as well attended as any within a circuit of 20 miles. They used
to dine out in full uniform, each with his body-servant behind his
chair.’ (Sleigh’s _History of Leek_.)
The first prisoners came here in 1803 from San Domingo. In 1809 and 1812
many more arrived—some accounts say as many as 200, and one fact
considered worthy of record is that they were to be met prowling about
early in the morning in search of snails!
A correspondent to _Notes and Queries_ writes:
‘All accounts agree that these unfortunates conducted themselves with
the utmost propriety and self-respect during their enforced sojourn
among us; endearing themselves to the inhabitants generally by their
unwonted courtesy and strictly honourable behaviour. But as to their
estimate of human life, it was unanimously remarked that they seemed to
value it no more than we should crushing a fly in a moment of
irritation.’
The Freemasons had a Lodge ‘Réunion Désirée,’ and a Chapter ‘De
l’Amitié,’ working at Leek in 1810–11.
ALRESFORD
At Alresford the prisoners were at first unpopular, but their exertions
at a fire in the town wrought a change of feeling in their favour. It is
interesting to note that when the Commune in Paris in 1871 drove many
respectable people abroad, quite a number came to Alresford (as also to
Odiham), from which we may deduce that they were descendants of men who
had handed down pleasant memories of parole life in these little
Hampshire towns.
The Rev. Mr. Headley, Vicar of Alresford, kindly allowed me to copy the
following from his Parish Records:
‘1779. The Captain and officers of the Spanish man-of-war who behaved so
gallantly in the engagement with the _Pearl_, and who are prisoners of
war at Alresford, lately gave an elegant entertainment and ball in
honour of Capt. Montagu and his officers, in testimony of the high sense
they entertain of the polite and most generous treatment they received
after their capture. Capt. Montagu and his officers were present, also
Capt. Oates and officers of the 89th Regiment, and many of the most
respectable families from the neighbourhood of Alresford.’
I am indebted also to Mr. Headley for the following entries in the
registers of his church:
_Burials._
1794. July 21. St. Aubin, a French prisoner on parole.
1796. July 11. Baptiste Guillaume Jousemme; aged 21, born at
Castillones in France. A prisoner on parole.
1803. June 27. Thomas Monclerc. Aged 42. A French servant.
1809. Dec. 12. Jean Charbonier. A French prisoner.
1810. Dec. 14. Hypolite Riouffe. A French prisoner.
1811. Aug. 2. Pierre Garnier. A French prisoner.
1811. Dec 25. Ciprian Lavau. A French prisoner. Aged 29.
1812. Feb. 7. Louis de Bousurdont. A French prisoner. Aged 44.
1812. April 13. Marie Louise Fournier. A French prisoner. Aged 44.
1812. Aug. 8. Jean de l’Huille. A French prisoner. Aged 51.
Mr. Payne of Alresford told me that the clock on the church tower, which
bears the date 1811, is said to have been presented by the French
prisoners on parole in the town in gratitude for the kindly treatment
they received from the inhabitants.
THAME
At Thame, in 1809, Israel Eel was charged at the Oxford Quarter Sessions
with assaulting Ravenau, a French prisoner on parole. To the great
surprise of all, _not a true bill_ was returned.
Some of the prisoners at Thame were lodged in a building now called the
‘Bird Cage’, once an inn. A memory of the prisoners lingers in the name
of ‘Frenchman’s Oak’ still given to a large tree there, it having marked
their mile boundary.
General Villaret-Joyeuse, Governor of Martinique, was one of the many
prisoners of fame or rank at Thame. He brought upon himself a rebuke
from the Transport Office in 1809, for having said in a letter to his
brother, ‘Plusieurs Français se sont détruits ne pouvant supporter plus
longtemps l’humiliation et l’abjection où ils étaient réduits.’ The
Transport Office told him that he had been grossly misinformed, and that
during the past war only two prisoners were known to have destroyed
themselves: one was supposed to have done so in consequence of the
deranged state of his account with the French Government, and the other,
having robbed his brother prisoner of a large amount, when detected,
dreading the consequence. ‘When you shall have better informed yourself
and altered the said letter accordingly, it will be forwarded to
France.’
General Privé, one of Dupont’s officers, captured at Baylen, was called
to order for making false statements in a letter to the French minister
of war, in an offensive manner: ‘The Board have no objection of your
making representations you may think proper to your Government
respecting the Capitulation of Baylen, and transmitting as many Truths
as you please to France, but indecent Abuse and reproachful Terms are
not to be suffered.’
WINCANTON
To Mr. George Sweetman I am indebted for some interesting particulars
about parole prisoner life at Wincanton in Somersetshire. The first
prisoners came here in 1804, captured on the _Didon_, and gradually the
number here rose to 350, made up of Frenchmen, Italians, Portuguese, and
Spaniards. In 1811 the census showed that nineteen houses were occupied
by prisoners, who then numbered 297 and 9 women and children. An ‘oldest
inhabitant’, Mr. Olding, who died in 1870, aged eighty-five, told Mr.
Sweetman that at one time there were no less than 500 prisoners in
Wincanton and the adjacent Bayford. Some of them were men of good
family, and were entertained at all the best houses in the
neighbourhood.
‘After the conquest of Isle of France,’ said Mr. Olding, ‘about fifty
French officers were sent here, who were reputed to have brought with
them half a million sterling.... They lived in their own hired houses or
comfortable lodgings. The poorer prisoners took their two meals a day at
the _Restaurant pour les Aspirants_. The main staple of their diet was
onions, leeks, lettuce, cucumbers, and dandelions. The richer, however,
ate butchers’ meat plentifully.’
Altogether the establishment of Wincanton as a parole town must have
been of enormous benefit to a linen-weaving centre which was feeling
severely the competition of the great Lancashire towns, and was fast
losing its staple industry.
Mr. Sweetman introduces an anecdote which illustrates the great trading
difficulties which at first existed between foreigners who knew nothing
of English, and natives who were equally ignorant of French.
One of the many butchers who attended the market had bought on one
occasion some excellent fat beef to which he called the attention of a
model French patrician, and, confusing the Frenchman’s ability to
understand the English language with defective hearing, he shouted in
his loudest tones, which had an effect contrary to what he expected or
desired. The officer (noted for his long pig-tail, old round hat, and
long-waisted brown coat), to all the jolly butcher’s earnest appeals to
him to buy, answered nothing but ‘Non bon, non bon!’
‘Well, Roger,’ said a brother butcher, ‘If I were you, he should have
bone enough next time!’
‘So he shall,’ said Roger, and on the next market-day he brought a fine
neck and chine of bull beef, from which lots of steaks were cut, and
soon sold.
Presently the old officer came by, and Roger solicited his custom for
his line show of bones. The indignant Frenchman again exclaimed, ‘Non
bon! non bon!’
‘Confound the fellow,’ said Roger, ‘what can he want, why, ’tis a’al
booin, idden it?’
Both men were becoming really angry, when a boy standing by, who had
speedily acquired some knowledge of French, explained the matter to both
men. When at length they understood each other they both laughed
heartily at the misunderstanding, but the incident became a standing
joke against Roger as long as he lived.
The mile boundaries of the prisoners were Bayford Elm on the London
road; Anchor Bridge on the Ilchester road; Abergavenny Gate on the
Castle Cary road; and Gorselands on the Bruton road. The prisoners
frequently promenaded the streets in great numbers, four abreast. The
large rooms in the public-houses were often rented for holding meetings
of various kinds. On one occasion the large room at the _Swan_ Inn was
used for the lying in state of a Freemason, who was buried in a very
imposing manner. Two other great officers lay in state at the
_Greyhound_ and _The Dogs_. Many died from various causes incidental to
captivity. They were buried in the churchyard, and a stone there marks
the resting-place of a Russian or a Pole who was said to have died of
grief.[17] One of them committed suicide. Another poor fellow became
demented, and every day might have been heard playing on a flute a
mournful dirge, which tune he never changed. Others bore their
estrangement from home and country less sorrowfully, and employed their
time in athletic sports or in carving various articles of different
kinds of wood and bone. Some were allowed to visit friends at a
distance, always returning faithfully to their parole.
During the winter months they gave, twice a week, musical and theatrical
entertainments. Many of the captives, especially those of the upper
ranks, were good musicians. These held concerts, which were attended by
the people of the town.
Sunday was to them the dullest day of the week; they did not know what
to make of it. Some of them went to the parish church and assisted in
the instrumental part of the service. A few attended the Congregational,
or as it was then called, the Independent Chapel. The majority of them
were, in name at least, Roman Catholics; whatever they were, they spent
Sundays in playing chess, draughts, cards and dominoes,—indeed, almost
anything to while the time away.
The prisoners used to meet in large rooms which they hired for various
amusements. Some of them were artists, and Mr. Sweetman speaks of many
rooms which they decorated with wall-pictures. In one—the ‘Orange Room’
at _The Dogs_ in South Street—may still be seen wall-paintings done by
them; also in the house of Mr. James, in the High Street, three panels
of a bedroom are painted with three of the Muses. Miss Impey, of Street,
has some drawings done by a prisoner, Charles Aubert, who probably did
the paintings above alluded to.
As time went on and the prisoners became more homesick and more
impatient of restraint, desertions became frequent, and it was necessary
to station a company of infantry in Wincanton, and they were ‘kept
lively’. One night a party was escaping and the constable of the town,
attempting to prevent them, was roughly handled. The soldiers were on
guard all night in the streets, but nevertheless some prisoners managed
even then to escape.
‘In 1811’, said the _Salisbury Journal_, ‘Culliford, a notorious
smuggler, was committed to Ilchester Gaol for conveying from Wincanton
several of the prisoners there to the Dorsetshire coast, whence they
crossed to Cherbourg. Culliford was caught with great difficulty, and
then only because of the large reward offered.’
There was at Wincanton, as in other parole towns, a Masonic Lodge among
the prisoners; it was called (as was also the Lodge at Sanquhar) ‘La
Paix Désirée’. There were English members of it. Mr. Sweetman
reproduces, in the little book upon which I have drawn for my
information, the certificate of Louis Michel Duchemin, Master Mason in
1810. This M. Duchemin married Miss Clewett of Wincanton, and settled in
England, dying in Birmingham in 1854 or 1855. His widow only survived
him a week, but he left a son who in 1897 lived in Birmingham, following
his father’s profession as a teacher of French. M. Duchemin was
evidently much esteemed in Wincanton, as the following testimonial
shows:
‘Wincanton, June 1821.
‘I, the undersigned, having been His Majesty’s Agent for Prisoners of
War on Parole in this place during the late war, do certify that Monsr.
L. M. Duchemin was resident for upwards of six years on his Parole of
Honour in this Town, from the time [1805] of the capture of the French
frigate _La Torche_ to the removal of the Prisoners to Scotland, and
that in consequence of his universal good conduct, he was excepted (on a
memorial presented by Inhabitants to the Commissioners of H. M.
Transport Service) from a previous Order of Removal from this place with
other prisoners of his rank. Monsr. Duchemin married while resident in
this place into a respectable family, and, having known him from 1806 to
the present time, I can with much truth concur in the Testimonial of his
Wells friends.
‘G. MESSITER.’
This Mr. George Messiter, a solicitor, was one of the best sort of
parole agents, and is thus eulogized by Mr. Sweetman:
‘He was a gentleman well qualified for the office he held: of a noble
mien, brave, and held in respect by all who knew him. Under his
direction the captives were supplied with every accommodation he could
give them. Several years after his death one of the survivors, an army
surgeon, came to the scene of his former captivity, when he paid a high
tribute to the Commissary, and spoke in terms of affection of the
townspeople amongst whom he had sojourned.’
When it is remembered that Messiter had to deal with such troublesome
fellows as Generals Rochambeau and Boyer (who were actually sent away
from Wincanton, as they had already been sent away from other parole
places, on account of their misdeeds), the worth of this testimony may
be appreciated.
Not many marriages between prisoners and Englishwomen are recorded at
Wincanton, for the same reason that ruled elsewhere—that the French law
refused to regard such marriages as valid.
Alberto Bioletti, an Italian servant to a French officer, married and
settled in the town as a hairdresser. He married twice, and died in
1869, aged ninety-two. William Bouverie, known as ‘Billy Booby’, married
and settled here. John Peter Pichon is the very French name of one who
married Dinah Edwards, both described as of Wincanton, in 1808. In 1809
Andrée Joseph Jantrelle married Mary Hobbs.
Mr. Sweetman says:
‘Here, as in all other parole towns, a large number of children were
born out of wedlock whose fathers were reputed to be our visitors. Some
indeed took French names, and several officers had to pay large sums of
money to the parish authorities before they left. One of the drawbacks
to the sojourn of so many strangers among us was the increase of
immorality. One informant said: “Not the least source of attraction to
these gallant sons of France, were the buxom country maidens, who found
their way into the town, but lost their way back. I regret to say that
our little town was becoming a veritable hotbed of vice.”’
The prisoners were suddenly withdrawn from Wincanton, on account of the
alarm, to which I have alluded elsewhere, that a general rising of the
prisoners of war all over England, but chiefly in the west, had been
concerted, and partly on account of the large numbers of escapes of
prisoners, favoured as they were by the proximity of the Dorsetshire
coast with its gangs of smugglers.
Mr. Sweetman continues:
‘In February 1812, a company of infantry and a troop of cavalry arrived
at the South Gate, one morning at roll-call time. Before the roll had
been completed the troop entered the town and surrounded the captives.
The infantry followed, and those who had not presented themselves at
roll-call were sent for. So sudden had been the call, that although many
had wished for years to leave, they were unprepared when the time came.
At 4 o’clock those who were ready departed; some had not even
breakfasted, and no one was allowed to have any communication with them.
They were marched to Mere, where they passed the night in the church.
Early next morning, those who were left behind, after having bestowed
their goods (for many of them had furnished their own houses), followed
their brethren, and, joining them at Mere, were marched to Kelso. Deep
was the regret of many of the inhabitants at losing so many to whom they
had become endeared by ties of interest and affection. A great gap was
made in the life of the town which it took years to fill.’
Seventeen burials are recorded in the Wincanton registers from the end
of July 1806 to the end of May 1811.
Prominent prisoners at Wincanton were M. de Tocqueville, Rear-Admiral de
Wailly-Duchemin, and Rochambeau, whom Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, in his
story _The Westcotes_, the scene of which he lays at ‘Axcester’—i.e.
Wincanton—paints as quite an admirable old soldier. It was the
above-named rear-admiral who, dying at Wincanton, lay in state in the
panelled ‘Orange Room’ of _The Dogs_. This is now the residence of Dr.
Edwards, who kindly allowed me to inspect the paintings on the panels of
this and the adjoining room, which were executed by French officers
quartered here, and represent castles and landscapes, and a caricature
of Wellington, whose head is garnished with donkey’s ears.
The ‘Orange Room’ is so called from the tradition that Dutch William
slept here on his way from Torbay to London to assume the British crown.
Later on a hundred and fifty of the French officers captured at
Trafalgar and in Sir Richard Strachan’s subsequent action, were
quartered here, and are described as ‘very orderly, and inoffensive to
the inhabitants’.
The suicide mentioned above was that of an officer belonging to a highly
respectable family in France, who, not having heard from home for a long
time, became so depressed that he went into a field near his lodgings,
placed the muzzle of a musket in his mouth, and pushed the trigger with
his foot. The coroner’s jury returned a verdict of ‘Lunacy’.
I have said that the frequency of escapes among the prisoners was one of
the causes of their removal from Wincanton. The Commissary, Mr. George
Messiter, in November 1811 asked the Government to break up the Dépôt,
as, on account of the regularly organized system established between the
prisoners and the smugglers and fishermen of the Dorsetshire coast, it
was impossible to prevent escapes. Towards the close of 1811 no fewer
than twenty-two French prisoners got away from Wincanton. The
Commissary’s request was at once answered, and the _Salisbury Journal_
of December 9, 1811, thus mentions the removal:
‘On Saturday last upwards of 150 French prisoners lately on their parole
at Wincanton were marched by way of Mere through this city under an
escort of the Wilts Militia and a party of Light Dragoons, on their way
to Gosport, there to be embarked with about 50 superior officers for
some place in Scotland. Since Culliford, the leader of the gang of
smugglers and fishermen who aided in these escapes, was convicted and
only sentenced to six months’ imprisonment, they have become more and
more daring in their violations of the law.’
ASHBY-DE-LA-ZOUCH
Ashby occupies an interesting page in that little-known chapter of
British history which deals with the prisoners of war who have lived
amongst us, and I owe my cordial thanks to the Rev. W. Scott, who has
preserved this page from oblivion, for permission to make use of his
pamphlet.
In September 1804, the first detachment of prisoners, forty-two in
number, reached Ashby, and this number was gradually increased until it
reached its limit, 200. The first arrivals were poor fellows who had to
board and lodge themselves on about ten shillings and sixpence a week;
but the later officers from Pampeluna had money concealed about their
clothing and in the soles of their boots.
On the whole, Mr. Scott says, they seem to have had a tolerably good
time in Ashby. Their favourite walk was past the Mount Farm near the
Castle, along the Packington Road, then to the left to the Leicester
Road, across the fields even now sometimes called ‘The Frenchman’s
Walk’, but more generally, Packington Slang. The thirty-shilling reward
offered to any one who should report a prisoner as being out of bounds
was very rarely claimed, for the officers were such general favourites
that few persons could be found who, even for thirty shillings, could be
base enough to play the part of informer.
An indirect evidence of the good feeling existing between the
townspeople and their guests is afforded by the story of two dogs. One
of these, named Mouton, came with the first prisoners in 1804, spent ten
years in Ashby, and returned with the men in 1814. The other dog came
with the officers from Pampeluna, and was the only dog who had survived
the siege. Both animals were great pets with the people of Ashby.
There seem to have been at least two duels. Mr. Measures, a farmer of
Packington, on coming to attend to some cattle in Packington Slang, saw
a cloak lying on the ground, and upon removing it was horrified to see
the body of a French officer. It proved to be that of Captain Colvin. He
was buried in the churchyard of Packington, and, honour being satisfied,
the man who had slain him was one of the chief mourners. There is a
brief entry of another duel in Dr. James Kirkland’s records: ‘Monsieur
Denègres, a French prisoner, killed in a duel, Dec. 6th, 1808.’
Good friends as the prisoners were with the male inhabitants of the
town, and with the neighbouring farmers, who on more than one occasion
lent horses to officers who wished to escape, it was with the ladies
that they were prime favourites. One of the prisoners, Colonel Van Hoof,
was the admirer of Miss Ingle, the reigning beauty of Ashby. The
courtesy and good nature of the prisoners bore down all obstacles; and
the only ill-wishers they had were the local young dandies whose noses
they put out of joint. The married dames were also pleased and
flattered: many of the prisoners were excellent cooks, and one who made
a soup which was the envy and despair of every housekeeper in Ashby,
when asked by a lady the secret of it, said: ‘I get some pearl barley
and carry it here several days,’ placing his hand melodramatically over
his heart.
In spite of the mile-limit regulation, they went to picnics in Ashby Old
Parks, riding in wagons, and going along the tram road which ran from
Willesley to Ticknall. On these occasions the officers were accompanied
by the better class girls of the town and their admirers. Music was
supplied by one of the Frenchmen who played a violin. For this or for
some other reason he seems to have been a first favourite. When passing
through the tunnel underneath Ashby Old Parks Hill, it was no unusual
thing for him to lay aside his fiddle to kiss the girls. Of course, they
always asked him to play while in the tunnel in order to keep him from
obliging them in this manner, and of course he would know what they
meant.
The permanent result of this love-making is shown by the parish register
of Ashby; from 1806 to June 1, 1814, the following weddings took place
between local girls and French ‘Prisoners of War resident in this
Parish’, or ‘on parole in this Parish’:
1806. Francis Robert to Jane Bedford.
〃 Pierre Serventie to Elizabeth Rowbottom.
〃 Anthony Hoffmann to Elizabeth Peach.
1809. Louis Jean to Elizabeth Edwards.
1810. Francis Picard to Charlotte Bedford.
〃 Henry Antoine to Sarah Roberts.
〃 Pierre Geffroy to Phillis Parkins
1812. Casimir Gantreuil to Elizabeth Adcock.
〃 Louis François Le Normand Kegrist to Mary Ann Kirkland.
〃 Louis Adoré Tiphenn to Ann Vaun.
〃 Frederic Rouelt to Ann Sharp.
1813. Auguste Louis Jean Segoivy to Elizabeth Bailey.
〃 Francis Peyrol to Martha Peach.
1814. Francis Victor Richard Ducrocq to Sarah Adcock.
〃 Richard le Tramp to Mary Sharpe.
Two Masonic Lodges and a Rose Croix Chapter were established in
Ashby—the above-mentioned Louis Jean was a member of the ‘Vrais Amis de
l’Ordre’ Lodge, and four relics of his connexion are still preserved.
Tradition says that the constitution of the Lodge was celebrated by a
ball given by the French officers, the hosts presenting to each lady two
pairs of white gloves, one pair long, the other short.
The second Lodge was ‘De la Justice et de l’Union’.
When Peace was declared, the French Masons at Ashby disposed of their
Lodge furniture to the ‘Royal Sussex’, No. 353, of Repton, in
Derbyshire. In 1869 the Lodge removed to Winshill, Burton-on-Trent,
where the furniture is still used.
There is the register of three burials:
1806. Étienne Lenon.
1807. François Rabin.
1808. Xavier Mandelier.
Here, as elsewhere, the Frenchmen gave proofs of their skill in fine
handiwork. They did ornamental work in several new houses; they taught
the townsfolk the art of crochet-work (I quote from Mr. Scott); they
were artists, carvers, &c. Some of the officers worshipped in the
Baptist Church, and became members of it. The conversion of Captain Le
Jeune is an interesting little story. Shocked by certain phases and
features of the Roman Catholic religion, he became a deist and finally
an atheist, and during the Revolution joined readily in the
ill-treatment of priests. At San Domingo he was taken prisoner in 1804,
and sent to Ashby on parole. Four years later the death of his father
very deeply impressed him, and he began to think seriously about the
existence of God. A fellow prisoner, De Serre, a member of the Baptist
Church in Ashby, a devout Christian, became intimate with him, persuaded
him to join the Church, and he finally became an active and zealous
missionary in his own country; and until his death corresponded with the
Ashby pastors, and particularly with the Rev. Joseph Goadly, who
exercised an wholesome and powerful influence among the French prisoners
of war.