Some idea has already been given of the formation of the Norman Cross
barracks; but a fuller and more detailed account of them may, perhaps, be
interesting.
Norman Cross is the name given to that part of the parish of Yaxley, in
the county of Huntingdon, where that grand old thoroughfare of England,
the Great North Road, along which coaches might drive four abreast, is
crossed by the Peterborough Road. In one corner, bounded by these two
roads, is a large piece of pasture land, some forty acres in extent,
which Government purchased in 1796, for the purpose of erecting barracks
on it for prisoners of war, then multiplying fast, and for a large number
of soldiers to guard them.
The situation was exceedingly healthy, being at the highest point of the
road sloping up for a mile and a half from what was then Whittlesea Mere.
It was not too near the sea, to make escape more easy, yet near enough to
Yarmouth, King's Lynn and Wisbeach, to facilitate the landing and
transport of prisoners to their destination. It was on the Great North
Road, only 78 miles from London, and near enough to towns to obtain
provisions with ease and in abundance. It was in fact selected by the
War Office on all these accounts from amongst several other eligible
sites in the kingdom.
The accounts given of the plan on which these barracks were constructed
do not altogether agree in particulars. There is a plan of them still in
existence which has received the imprimatur of Major Kelly the
Commandant, his signature being on the back of it in testimony of its
correctness. We shall not therefore be very far wrong in making that our
main guide in the description of them.
The part where the prisoners were confined consisted of sixteen large
buildings of wood, very long and lofty, each two stories high, placed at
the end of four rectangular pieces of land (four in each), nearly in the
centre of the forty acre field, and occupying altogether some fifteen
acres. Each rectangle was separated from the others, and was surrounded
by very high and strong palisades. They were placed symmetrically round
a circular block-house, mounted with cannon, which commanded every one of
the sixteen buildings, as well as the ground attached to them. There
were therefore four of these huge buildings, side by side at intervals,
at one end of each quadrangle, which was again sub-divided so that every
building had an equal portion of ground belonging to it.
A wall of similar palisading (some say it was of brick, but this is more
than doubtful,) surrounded the whole of the quadrangles at some distance.
{Norman Cross Prison. From the original plan: p27.jpg}
The prison was constructed to contain 5,000 prisoners, and compared with
some other places of confinement in England for a similar purpose must
have been tolerably comfortable.
Besides these central buildings, which may be called the prison proper,
there were a great many others scattered about, intended for various
purposes, such as kitchens, bakehouses, guard-rooms, turnkeys' lodges,
and, more important than all to the safe custody of the prisoners, two
large wooden barracks like each other, one at the east and the other at
the west of the whole enclosure, for the accommodation of two regiments
of infantry that formed the garrison.
The English officers were quartered in a large wooden house close to the
road towards the south-east corner of the enclosure, and close to the
house of the Commandant. This last was the only building of brick in the
whole place, and remains to this day, together with the officers' mess-
room, and the house where they were quartered, now cased with brick.
It is said that 500 hands were employed in the construction of these
works, and it is not surprising, considering their extent, and the fact
that the War Office was urgent in pressing them to completion, as the
prisoners multiplied so fast. Amongst other things, they had to sink
some thirty wells in the prisoners' enclosures and other parts. They
were of considerable depth, and yielded excellent water, so that the
large population of this singular place had two of the great necessaries
of life--good air and good water. In passing along the Peterborough
Road, some of these wells may be recognised by the boards placed over
them, they being still in use for the cattle grazing peacefully on the
old site, where once so many victims of war had been collected.
The barracks had been erected barely six years when they were put up to
let by the Government, all the prisoners having been discharged at the
Peace of Amiens in 1802. The advertisement is to be seen in the columns
of the local paper of that date. Whether any application was made for
the hire of the whole or any part of the premises in consequence, is not
known. He must, at all events, have been an enterprising man who could
aspire to be tenant of the whole of such an incongruous collection of
buildings, which, however admirably adapted to the object for which they
were erected, could only suit the purpose of some local "Barnum" of those
days. However, the Government evidently feared they might be wanted
again, though not so soon as was actually the case: for the Peace of
Amiens came to an untimely end the following year.
With regard to the internal administration of the Norman Cross barracks,
very copious particulars are to be found in the Government Record Office.
Indeed, they are so copious as to be wearisome. Regulations are varied,
or new ones added every year. Thus, at first, there was no _parole_ at
Norman Cross, or any of the other prisons. Officers on parole had to
live at certain places in Great Britain, of which a list is given, under
the eye of an agent. But this regulation must afterwards have been
modified, for it is certain that, as prisoners multiplied, one of the
large buildings at Norman Cross was allotted to the officers, and that it
was no uncommon thing for some of them to be allowed, under strict rules,
to go out on parole. The mile-stone is still pointed out, which was the
ordinary limit of the distance the poor fellows might go. And a very old
man is still living at Yaxley, who remembers, as a boy, having often seen
them on the road, some very well dressed, others in tatters, few in
uniform.
The daily ration of the prisoners was as follows: Five days in the week
each had a pound or pound-and-a-half of bread, half-a-pound of beef, with
vegetables, or pease, or oatmeal, with a small quantity of salt. But on
Wednesday and Friday, instead of beef, one pound of codfish or herrings.
No ale or beer was allowed, but it could be procured at the prison
canteen.
Besides this, there was a special marketplace in the prison grounds, and
the market hours were from ten to twelve every morning. Persons were
searched at the gate before entering, to prevent the introduction of
liquors, knives, or weapons; and, after entering, they were allowed no
private communication with prisoners. King's stores were not allowed to
be bought from them, but straw hats might be purchased. Persons of
credit and respectability might at any time, when visiting the prison,
purchase such trinkets as the prisoners had to dispose of, being their
own handiwork.
Complaints were made at one time in Parliament, and in the papers, and
abroad, of the food and clothing supplied to the prisoners, but they were
proved to be without foundation. Two Commissioners were appointed by the
Government to investigate the matter, and they reported that the health
of the prisoners was excellent, and that the food was good. As to the
clothing, they said that many of the prisoners had such a propensity for
gaming that, notwithstanding every precaution, they sold their clothes,
bedding, and even their food before it was due, to raise a trifle to
gamble with.
But of all who slandered the Government for their treatment of the
prisoners, no one was worse than that most amiable and pleasant writer,
George Borrow. In his book called _Lavengro_, with much picturesqueness,
but little truth, he thus describes the prison itself:--"What a strange
appearance had those mighty caserns (five or six of them, he says, but
there were sixteen) with their blank, blind walls, without windows or
gratings, and their slanting roofs, out of which, through orifices where
the tiles had been removed, would be protruded dozens of grim heads,
feasting their prison-sick eyes on the wide expanse of country unfolded
from that airy height."
Then again, in his account of the food supplied to the prisoners, he thus
grossly libels the Government, and indeed the English nation:--"Much had
the poor inmates to endure, and much to complain of, to the disgrace of
England be it said--of England, in general so kind and bountiful:--rations
of carrion meat and bread, from which I have seen the very hounds
occasionally turn away, were unworthy entertainment even for the most
ruffian enemy, when helpless and a captive. And such, alas! was the fare
in those caserns."
What could have been the matter with the man to write such stuff as this!
One other instance of the reckless way in which he writes about Norman
Cross. Speaking of the manner in which a good many of the prisoners
employed themselves in straw-plaiting of a very superior description, and
how in course of time they thus competed in what was an employment of the
English in certain neighbourhoods, Borrow gives the following ridiculous
account of the manner in which the aid of British soldiery was invoked,
to put a stop to the manufacture on the part of the poor prisoners:--"Then
those ruthless inroads, called in the story of the place _straw plait
hunts_, when in pursuit of a contraband article, which the prisoners, in
order to procure themselves a few of the necessaries of life, were in the
habit of making, red-coat battalions were marched into the prison, who,
with the bayonet's point, carried havoc and ruin into every convenience
which ingenious wretchedness had been endeavouring to raise around it:
and the triumphant exit with the miserable booty: and, worst of all, the
accursed bonfire on the barrack parade of the plaited contrabands beneath
the view of the glaring eye-balls from their lofty roofs, amidst the
hurrahs of the troops, frequently drowned in the curses poured down from
above like a tempest shower, or in the terrific whoop of 'Vive
l'Empereur.'"
Very rhetorical, but altogether improbable and utterly nonsensical!
The explanation of these exaggerations and misstatements on the part of
Borrow is to be found in the fact that, as he admits, he was quite a boy
when he saw Norman Cross barracks. His father was an officer in one of
the regiments on guard there (and they were constantly changing), and his
account was written years afterwards, when it was not likely he would
remember accurately what he had heard and seen so long ago. Indeed, he
acknowledges as much when he begins his account by the ominous words, "If
I remember right,"--which he certainly did not.
No. The unfortunate prisoners of Norman Cross were not petted, neither
were they uncared for. They were treated as prisoners of war, not as
criminals; and were not employed (as English prisoners were in France,)
in public and other works. They had, poor fellows, a heavy lot to bear,
but it is an abominable falsehood to say that it was aggravated by any
needless severity on the part of the English Government.