PAROLE LIFE: SUNDRY NOTES (_continued_)
ASHBURTON, DEVON
Mr. J. H. Amery says in _Devon Notes and Queries_:
‘We can hardly credit the fact that so little reliable information or
even traditional legend, remains in the small inland market towns where
so many officers were held prisoners on parole until as recently as
1815. It certainly speaks well for their conduct, for had any tragedy
been connected with their stay, tradition would have preserved its
memory and details. For several years prior to 1815 a number of educated
foreigners formed a part of the society of our towns. At one time they
were lively Frenchmen, at others sober Danes or spendthrift Americans.
They lodged and boarded in the houses of our tradesmen; they taught the
young people modern languages, music and dancing; they walked our
streets and roads, and took a general interest in passing events; yet
to-day hardly a trace can be discovered of their presence beyond a few
neglected mile-stones on our country roads, and here and there a grave
in our Parish churchyards. This is particularly the case with
Ashburton.’
He goes on to say that he got more information about the American
prisoners at Ashburton from a Bostonian who was at the post-office
there, making inquiries, than from anyone else. This Bostonian’s
grandfather was a naval surgeon who had been captured on the _Polly_;
had been sent to Dartmoor, but was released on parole to Ashburton.
Mr. Amery gives as an instance of this local indifference to the past
the fact that the family of Mr. Joseph Gribble, solicitor and county
coroner, who had been prisoner agent at Ashburton, had lived opposite to
the entrance to the vicarage until 1899, but that by that time
everything about the prisoners had been forgotten by them.
Mr. Amery writes to me:
‘I have heard our people say that my great-uncle who lived here at that
time used to have open house for the prisoners on parole. The French
were very nice and gentlemanly, but the Americans were a much rougher
lot, and broke up things a good deal. The French used to teach French
and dancing in the town.’
The following Masonic Petition from Ashburton is interesting:
‘Ashburton, April 6, 1814, of our Lord, and in Masonry 5814. To the
Grand Master, Grand Wardens, and Members of the Grand Lodge, London.
‘BRETHREN,
‘We, the undersigned, being Ancient York Masons, take the liberty of
addressing you with this Petition for our Relief, being American
prisoners of war on parole at this place. We are allowed 10_s._ 6_d._
per week for our support. In this place we cannot get lodgings for less
than 3_s._ per week, and from that to 5_s._ per week. Meat is constantly
from 9_d._ to 1_s._ per lb., and other necessaries in proportion. Judge,
brethren, how we live, for none of us have any means of getting money.
Our clothes are wearing out, and God knows how long we shall be kept
here; many of us have been captured 9 or 10 months, as you will see
opposite our signatures. We form a body in this place by ourselves for
the purpose of lecturing each other once a week, and have had this in
contemplation for some time, but have deferred making application until
absolute want has made it necessary. We therefore pray that you will
take into consideration and provide some means for our relief. You will
please address your letter to Edwin Buckannon.
‘We humbly remain your pennyless brethren.
‘EDWIN BUCKANNON. G. W. BURBANK. PIERSON BALDWIN. WM. MILLER.
ARCHD. TAYLOR, JUNR. EZRA OBER. WM. SMITH. JAMES LANS. JOHN
SCHERS.’
There was also a French Lodge at Ashburton, ‘Des Amis Réunis’, but the
only record of its existence is a certificate granted to Paul Carcenac,
an initiate. It is roughly drawn by hand on parchment, and is entirely
in French, and, as the recipient is under obligation to affiliate
himself to some regularly warranted French Lodge immediately on his
return to his native land, it would seem that the Lodge at Ashburton was
only of a temporary or irregular character.
The foregoing references to Freemasonry remind us that this universal
brotherhood was the occasion of many graceful acts during the Great Wars
between men of opposing sides.
TAVISTOCK
There were upon an average 150 prisoners here. The Prison Commissioners
wrote:
‘Some of them have made overtures of marriage to women in the
neighbourhood, which the magistrates very properly have taken pains to
discourage.’
This, of course, refers to the ruling of the French Government that it
would regard such marriages as invalid. That French women sometimes
accompanied their husbands into captivity is evident from not infrequent
petitions such as this:
‘The French woman at Tavistock requests that Sir Rupert George (Chairman
to the Transport Office) will interest himself to procure rations for
her child who was born at the Dépôt, and is nearly five months old.’
OKEHAMPTON
Here, very little information is obtainable, as very few of the ‘oldest
inhabitant’ type are to be found, and there are very few residents whose
parents have lived there for any length of time—a sign of these
restless, migrating days which makes one regret that the subject of the
foreign prisoners of war in Britain was not taken up before the movement
of the rural world into large towns had fairly set in. One old resident
could only say that his father used to talk of from five to six hundred
prisoners being at Okehampton, but in the rural mind numbers are handled
as vaguely as is time, for assuredly in no single parole town in Britain
were there ever so many prisoners. Another aged resident said:
‘They were all bettermost prisoners: the rough ones were kept at
Princetown, but these were quartered in various houses, and paid very
well for it. Their bounds were a mile out of town, but I have heard they
were very artful, and shifted the milestones and borough stones. My
father told me that one escaped, but he was shot down in the
neighbourhood of the Bovey Clay Works. There was a riot in the town one
day amongst them, and old Dr. Luxmoore, who was a big, tall man, mounted
his big horse, and, armed with his hunting whip, rode down through the
prisoners, who were fighting in the town, and with the cracks of it
dispersed them in every direction.... The Mess Room was the St. James’
Street schoolroom, and stood opposite the South entrance of the Arcade
which was pulled down a few years ago. In their spare time the prisoners
made many small articles such as cabinets, chairs, cribbage-boards, and
various models of churches and houses. Some taught their languages to
the inhabitants.’
ODIHAM
General Simon was at Odiham. We have had to do with him before, and he
seems to have been thoroughly bad. He had been concerned with Bernadotte
and Pinoteau in the Conspiracy of Rennes against Bonaparte’s Consular
Government, had been arrested, and exiled to the Isle of Rhé for six
years. When Bonaparte became emperor he liberated Simon and gave him a
command. At the battle of Busaco, September 27, 1810, Simon’s brigade
led the division of Loison in its attack on the British position, and
Simon was first man over the entrenchments. ‘We took some prisoners,’
says George Napier, ‘and among them General Simon. He was horribly
wounded in the face, his jaw being broken and almost hanging on his
chest. Just as myself and another officer came to him a soldier was
going to put his bayonet into him, which we prevented, and sent him up
as prisoner to the General.’
Simon reached England in October 1810, and was sent on parole to Odiham.
The prisoners lived in houses in Bury Square, opposite the stocks and
the church, and some old redbrick cottages on the brink of the chalk-pit
at the entrance to the town, all of which are now standing. They
naturally made the fine old _George_ Inn their social centre, and to
this day the tree which marked their mile limit along the London road is
known as ‘Frenchman’s Oak’. Simon absconded from Odiham, and the
advertisement for him ran:
‘One hundred pounds is offered for the capture of the French general
Simon, styled a baron and a chevalier of the Empire, who lately broke
his parole and absconded from Odiham.’
_The Times_ of Jan. 20, 1812, details his smart capture by the Bow
Street officers. They went first to Richmond, hearing that two
foreigners of suspicious appearance were there. The information led to
nothing, so they went on to Hounslow, thinking to intercept the
fugitives on their way from Odiham to the Kent Coast, and here they
heard that two Frenchmen had hired a post-chaise to London. This they
traced to Dover Street, Piccadilly, but the clue was lost. They
remembered that there was a French doctor in Dover Street, but an
interview with him revealed nothing. On they went to the house of a
Madame Glion, in Pulteney Street, late owner of a Paris diligence, and,
although their particular quarry was not there, they ‘ran in’ three
other French ‘broke-paroles’. Information led them to Pratt Street,
Camden Town. A female servant appeared in the area of No. 4 in reply to
their knocks, denied that there was any one in the house, and refused
them admittance. The officers, now reinforced, surrounded the house, and
some men were seen sitting in a back-parlour by candle-light. Suddenly
the candles were put out. Lavender, the senior officer, went again to
the front door and knocked. The servant resisted his pretext of having a
letter for a lady in the house, and he threatened to shoot her if she
still refused admission. She defied him. Other officers had in the
meanwhile climbed over the back garden wall and found Simon and another
officer, Surgeon Boiron, in the kitchen in darkness.
The mistress and servant of the house were both Frenchwomen, and they
were carried off with Simon and Boiron: altogether a capital haul, as
the women were found upon examination to be ‘deep in the business’ of
aiding and abetting in the escape of prisoners. With Simon’s subsequent
career I have dealt in the chapter upon Escapes and Escape Agents.
LEICESTER
To Mr. John Thorp of this town I am indebted for the following notes:
‘In 1756 Count Benville and 30 other French officers were on parole at
Leicester. Most of them were men of high rank, and were all well
received by the townpeople.[18] They were polite and agreeable in
manner, and as they expended about £9,000 during their stay in the town
it was of benefit to a large part of the inhabitants.
‘A number of French prisoners came from Tavistock in 1779, and remained
in the town about six months. They behaved well and produced agreeable
impressions upon the inhabitants by their light-hearted and amiable
manners, and, in consequence, were very civilly treated. They were free
from boasting, temperate, and even plain in living, and paid the debts
they had contracted during their residence in the town.’
TRAGIC EVENTS
Tragic events were by no means so common among the prisoners on parole
as in the prisons, no doubt because of the greater variety in their
lives, and of their not being so constantly in close company with each
other.
A French officer, on parole at Andover in 1811, at what is now Portland
House in West Street, fell in love with the daughter of his host, and
upon her rejection of his suit, retired to a summer-house in the garden,
opened a vein in his arm, and bled to death.
Duels were frequent, and not only would there have been more, had
weapons of offence been procurable, but the results would have been more
often fatal.
In 1812 two French officers at Reading fought in a field near the _New
Inn_ on the Oxford road. They could not get pistols, but one gun. They
tossed for the first shot with it at fifty paces, and the winner shot
his opponent through the back of the neck so that he died.
At Leek in Staffordshire in the same year, a Captain Decourbes went out
fishing and came in at curfew. At 8 p.m. in the billiard-room of the
_Black’s Head_, a Captain Robert chaffed him about his prowess as an
angler, words were exchanged, and Robert insulted and finally struck
him. Decourbes, of course, challenged him. The only weapon they could
get was a cavalry horse-pistol which they borrowed from a yeomanry
trooper. They met at Balidone on October 17. Decourbes won the toss for
first shot and hit Robert in the breech. Robert, who had come on to the
ground on crutches, then fired and hit Decourbes in the nape of the
neck. Decourbes managed to walk back to Leek, but he died in ten days.
A very different version of this affair was given in a contemporary
_Times_. According to this, Decourbes, about ten days before the duel,
was out of his lodgings after the evening bell had rung, and the boys of
Leek collected and pelted him with stones. His behaviour caused one of
his brother officers to say that he was ‘soft’ and would faint at the
sight of his own blood. Decourbes gave him the lie, the other struck
him, and the result was a challenge and the duel as described. But the
verdict, ‘Died by the visitation of God,’ was questioned, and the writer
of a letter to _The Times_ declared that there was no evidence of a
duel, as Decourbes’ body was in a putrid state, and that three French
and two English surgeons had declared that he had died from typhus.
In 1807 a tragedy was enacted at Chesterfield which caused much stir at
the time. Colonel Richemont and Captain Méant were fellow prisoners,
released from the Chatham hulks, and travelling together to Chesterfield
where they were to live on parole. On the road thither they slept at
Atherstone. When Richemont arrived at the Falcon Hotel at Chesterfield
he found that his trunk had been robbed of a quantity of gold dust, a
variety of gold coins, and of some gold and silver articles. Suspecting
that it had been done at the inn in Atherstone, he caused inquiry to be
made, but without result. He then suspected his fellow traveller Méant,
caused his box to be searched, and in it found silver spoons and other
of his missing property.
Méant, on being discovered, tried to stab himself, but, being prevented,
seized a bottle of laudanum and swallowed its contents. Then he wrote a
confession, and finding that the laudanum was slower in action than he
expected, tried to stab himself again. A struggle took place; Méant
refused the emetic brought, and died. Méant’s brother-in-law brought an
action against Richemont, declaring that the latter in reality owed the
dead man a large sum of money, and that Méant had only taken his due.
During the trial Colonel Richemont was very violent against the British,
and especially when the jury decided the case against him, and found
that the dead man was his creditor, although, of course, the means he
employed to get what was his were illegal.
Méant was buried, according to usage, at the union of four cross roads
just outside the borough boundary, with a stake driven through his body.
The funeral took place on a Sunday, and great crowds attended.
On April 13, 1812, Pierre de Romfort or De la Roche, a prisoner on
parole at Launceston, was hanged at Bodmin for forgery. ‘He behaved very
penitently, and was attended to at the last moment by Mr. Lefers, a
Roman Catholic priest living at Lanhearne.’
I quote this because it is one of the very few instances of this crime
being committed by a prisoner on parole.
INTERNATIONAL COURTESIES
It is gratifying to read testimonies such as the following, taken out of
many, to chivalry and kindness on the part of our enemies, and to note
practical appreciations of such conduct.
In 1804 Captain Areguandeau of the _Blonde_ privateer, captured at sea
and put on the parole list, was applied for by late British prisoners of
his to whom he had been kind, to be returned to France unconditionally.
The Commissioners of the Transport Board regretted that under existing
circumstances they could not accede to this, but allowed him a choice of
parole towns—Tiverton, Ashbourne, Chesterfield, Leek, or Lichfield.
In 1806, Guerbe, second captain of a transport, was allowed to be on
parole although he was not so entitled by his rank, because of his
humane treatment of Colonel Fraser and other officers and men, lately
his prisoners.
Lefort, on parole at Tiverton, was allowed to go to France on parole
because of his kindly treatment of the wounded prisoners on the
_Hannibal_ (which, after a heroic resistance, ran aground in 1801 at
Algeciras and was captured).
In 1813 Captain Collins of H.M.S. _Surveillante_ successfully obtained
the unconditional release of Captain Loysel because of the splendid
manner in which the latter had risked his life in protecting two British
officers, who were wounded in the unsuccessful first attack on San
Sebastian, from being killed by some drunken or infuriated French
soldiers.
A French marine officer named Michael Coie, a prisoner on parole, died
at Andover, November 9, 1813. It happened that the 2nd battalion, 5th
Regiment was halting on the march in the town, and the commanding
officer, Captain Boyle, at once offered to attend the funeral, with the
battalion, the regimental band at the head. This was done, all the
French officers in Andover being present. The act of grace was much
appreciated by the prisoners.
So also when General Rufin—a great favourite of Bonaparte, captured at
Barossa in 1811—died in the May of that year on his passage to England,
his body was interred in the Garrison Chapel at Portsmouth, with every
rank of honour and distinction, minute guns, flags half-mast high, and
three rounds of nine pieces of cannon at the close.
In 1814, an officer on parole at Oswestry was liberated for having
rescued an infant from the paws of a lion.
The following is pleasing reading:
General Barraguay-Hilliers, who with his suite was captured in the
_Sensible_ by H.M.S. _Seahorse_ in June 1798, arrived at Portsmouth in
August, and on the very day after his arrival was allowed to go on
parole to France with his aides-de-camp, Lamotte and Vallie. But before
they could get out of England an amusing incident occurred which
afforded an English gentleman an opportunity for displaying a graceful
courtesy. The officers reached Lewes _en route_ for Dover, where they
hoped to get a neutral vessel to France, but, as Brighton races were on,
not for love or money could they get a conveyance to carry them on their
journey. None of them could speak English; they were not allowed by the
terms of their parole to go to London, which they might have done by
mail-coach, so they resolved to send their baggage on by cart, and
themselves proceed on foot. Sir John Shelley of Maresfield Park heard of
their predicament, and at once sent carriages to take them on to Dover.
It is also pleasant to read that at Tiverton the French officers on
parole there, with scarcely an exception, conducted themselves in such a
way as to win the esteem and regard of their hosts, and in many cases
lasting friendships were formed with them. After the establishment of
Peace in 1815, some, rather than return to France, remained. Among these
was M. Alexandre de la Motte, who lived at Tiverton, acquired property
there, and gained much respect as French master at Blundell’s School.
That so gregarious a race as the French should form clubs and
associations for social purposes among themselves in all circumstances
can be readily understood, and in almost every parole town some such
institution existed, and in no small degree contributed to the
enlivenment of local social life. There were also no less than
twenty-five lodges and chapters of Freemasons in England, and others in
Scotland. Still, the Government, from politic motives, warned their
Agents to keep these institutions under observation, and were disposed
to regard with suspicion such clubs as the ‘Des Amis Réunis’ at
Ashburton and Plymouth, the ‘Enfants de Mars et de Neptune’ at
Abergavenny and Tiverton, and others of like character, as being
institutions for the fomentation _sub rosâ_ of agitation and
disaffection. For the same reasons all amusements which gathered crowds
were discouraged among the prisoners.