ARRIVAL AND REGISTRATION OF THE PRISONERS
A prison is a house of care,
A place where none can thrive;
A touchstone true to try a friend,
A grave for one alive;
Sometimes a place of right,
Sometimes a place of wrong,
Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves,
And honest men among.
_Inscription in Edinburgh Tolbooth_.
WE have now arrived at that stage in the story of the Norman Cross Depot
when, although the whole of the buildings were not yet erected,
sufficient progress had been made for the occupation of a part of them.
Two quadrangles were ready, each of them containing caserns and the
necessary accessory buildings for the care and safe custody of 2,000 men.
The other two quadrangles were rapidly approaching completion, one for
2,000 prisoners, the other, the north-eastern block, for a smaller
number, as it was in part devoted to the accommodation of the sick, who
slept in bedsteads instead of in hammocks, and therefore occupied a far
greater space than the healthy men.
In this north-eastern square each casern was artificially warmed by
fires, and in every extant plan these blocks are shown to have chimneys,
while all the others have merely ventilators. The buildings were cut up
by partition walls into wards, and surgeons’ and attendants’ rooms, which
further interfered with their capacity; but, notwithstanding the limited
number of the occupants of this quadrangle, it is probable that in the
most crowded period of its occupation the prison held, including the
sick, and the occupants of the boys’ prison outside the boundary wall, at
least 7,000 prisoners.
On the 10th April 1810 a return made of all the prisoners of war in
England on that day shows 6,272 at Norman Cross. These returns are few
and far between, and may well have missed a period of overcrowding; the
lowest of any of them, one rendered in 1799, gives the number as 3,278.
To appreciate the details of the life of the prisoners, the reader must
grasp the magnitude of the experiment which was being initiated at this
Depot, where a number of men, equal to the adult male population of a
town of 30,000 inhabitants, were to be confined within four walls, with
no society but that of their fellow prisoners, no female element, no
intercourse with the outside world, except that in the prison market, in
which they were served by foreigners, whose language they did not
understand. In this community order and discipline had to be maintained,
while at the same time ordinary humanity demanded that these unfortunate
men, who had committed no crime, who were in a foreign prison for doing
their duty and fighting their country’s enemies, must be treated with all
possible leniency.
The exigencies of the war, and the circumstances under which many of the
men arrived at the prison, were not conducive to peace and order, and the
posts of agent of the Depot and of transport officer carried great
responsibility. This we can realise from an occurrence, a vivid example
of the horrors of war, concerning which Captain Woodriff had to hold an
inquiry as one of his first duties in connection with the Depot. Among
the thousand prisoners who, when the prison was opened, were already on
their way to Norman Cross from Portsmouth, Falmouth, Kinsale, and
Chatham, were men who had been conveyed on board the _Marquis of
Carmarthen_ transport, on which ship there had been a mutiny of the
prisoners. In the fray seven men were killed and thirty-seven
dangerously wounded, but the mutiny was quelled and all the prisoners
accounted for, except one, who was the murderer of one of the crew. Next
day he was discovered and placed in irons, with a sentry over him. He
asked to be shot, and in the absence of the captain of the vessel, who
protested against his wish being acceded to, the officer commanding the
troops, one Lieutenant Peter Ennis of the Caithness Militia, shot the
unfortunate man, and had the body thrown overboard. This happened three
days after the mutiny. The matter was investigated and reported upon by
Captain Woodriff at Norman Cross. The prisoners gave evidence that they
had mutinied on account of the badness of the water and provisions, and
complained that Inglis, or Ennis, was brutal to them. {49} The same
causes were assigned for another mutiny on the _British Queen_ transport,
which had to be reported upon by the agent at Norman Cross. To quell
this outbreak, the mutineers were fired on by the captain’s orders,
twelve being wounded, but none killed.
The earliest arrivals on the 7th April 1797 were the sailors from the
frigate _Réunion_ and 172 from the _Révolutionnaire_ man-of-war, which
had been brought in by _The Saucy Arethusa_. These were brought by water
to Yaxley. The next batch arrived on the 10th, and were landed from the
barges at Peterborough, proceeding to Norman Cross guarded by troopers.
The latter detachment was landed, according to Mr. Lamb’s diary, at Mr.
Squire’s close on the south bank of the river at Peterborough. This Mr.
Squire was later appointed the agent to look after the prisoners on
parole in Peterborough and its neighbourhood.
Other prisoners followed in rapid succession, their names, with certain
particulars, being entered in the French and the Dutch registers, which
were kept at the prison. The French registers number six large volumes,
ruled in close vertical columns, which extend across the two open pages.
The first column, commencing at the left-hand margin, is for the numbers
(the current number), which run consecutively to the end of the series;
the second is headed, “Where and how taken”; the third, “When taken”;
fourth, “Name of vessel”; fifth, “Description of vessel,” such as
Man-of-War, Privateer, Fishing Vessel, Greenlander; sixth, “Name of
prisoner”; seventh, “Rank”; eighth, “Date of reception at the prison”;
ninth, a column of letters which signify D, “discharged,” E, “escaped,”
etc., and the date of discharge. The Dutch register is in five volumes
only, but the entries are fuller than those in the French register, there
being thirteen columns across the two pages. The first, the “Current
number”; second, “Number in general entry book”; third, “Quality”
(sailor, drummer, gunner, mate, etc.); fifth, “Ship”; sixth, “Age”;
seventh, “Height” (range from 4 ft. 11½ in. to 5 ft. 10½ in.); eighth,
“Hair” (all brown); ninth, “Eyes” (the majority blue, some brown and a
few grey); tenth, “Visage” (as round and dark, oval and ruddy); eleventh,
“Person” (middle size, rather stout); twelfth, “Marks or wounds” (e.g.
None—Pitted with small-pox—Has a continual motion with his eyes);
thirteenth, “When and how discharged” (Dead; Exchanged; etc.). {50}
In both registers there are occasional marginal notes. A few examples of
the value of these registers as sources of information will suffice for
this history. Commencing with the French, we find that 190 French
soldiers, captured on 7th January 1797 in _La Ville de L’Orient_, were
received into custody 26th April 1797. Of these, the first one recorded
as dead was a soldier Jacques Glangetoy, on the 9th February 1798. Of
ninety-four captured on 31st December 1796 on _La Tartuffe_ frigate, many
are only entered by their Christian names, as Félix, Hilaire, Eloy,
Guillaume, etc. On 11th October 1799 there came a batch from Edinburgh,
captured 12th October 1798 in _La Coquille_ frigate, off the Irish Coast.
On the 28th July 1800 the garrison of Pondicherry, captured 23rd August
1793, were, after seven years of captivity at Chatham, transferred to
Norman Cross. On the 6th October of the same year, 1,800 prisoners
captured at Goree, and other places in the West Indies, were transferred
from Porchester.
From the Dutch register we gather that it was the Dutch prisoners who
filled the prison to overflowing a few months after it was opened. The
great naval battle already alluded to as imminent when the prison was
building, took place on 11th October 1797, off Camperdown, when Admiral
Duncan, after a severe engagement, defeated the Dutch fleet under Admiral
de Winter, capturing the _Cerberus_, 68 guns; _Jupiter_, 74; _Harleem_,
68; _Wassenaar_, 61; _Gelgkheld_, 68; _Vryheid_, 74; _Delft_, 56;
_Alkmaar_, 56; and _Munnikemdam_, 44. The Dutch fought gallantly, and
the ships they surrendered were well battered.
The loss of life was appalling, and the number of Dutch prisoners brought
in by the English Admiral was 4,954, the majority of these being
ultimately sent to Norman Cross, where they began to arrive in November
1797. The first entry of prisoners taken in this great battle is a list
of 261 from Admiral Ijirke’s ship _Admiral de Vries_.
Subsequent arrivals were crews of privateers and merchant ships,
fishermen, and soldiers. Entries in later years show that among the
prisoners sent to Norman Cross were many other civilians besides the
fishermen; these were not retained in the prison, but were allowed out on
parole or were released. Many fishing vessels were captured, the crew
averaging six; these sailors were sent to Norman Cross, and after a few
days’ confinement were “released” by the Board’s order. The soldiers
were entered in a separate register. The first batch were taken from the
_Furie_, captured by the _Sirius_ on the 14th October 1798, they were
received at Norman Cross on the 20th November of the same year, and are
described in the appropriate column as bombardiers, cannoniers,
passengers, etc. To ascertain what was the ultimate destination of the
prisoners, Mr. Rhodes has made an analysis of the information given in
the registers for the individual members of the crew of selected ships.
As to the first ship to which he applied this method, he found that of
the crew, the quartermaster was exchanged, 7th April 1798, one of the
coopers was allowed to join the British Herring Fishery, the majority of
the officers were allowed on parole at Peterborough, several seamen
joined the British Navy, one was discharged on the condition he elected
to serve under the Prince of Orange, one enlisted in the York Hussars,
and at various dates many enlisted in the 60th Regiment of Foot. Of the
soldiers, the officers were allowed on parole at Peterborough, some
privates joined the Royal Marines at Chatham, nine joined the 60th Foot,
and in 1800 the remainder, with the sailors, were sent to Holland under
the Alkmaar Cartel. {52} An analysis of the columns giving the disposal
of the next ship’s company shows that nine were on parole at
Peterborough, two were sent to serve under the Prince of Orange, two
joined the British Herring Fishery, seven the British Navy, two the
Merchant Service, four the Dutch Artillery, three died, ninety-three
enlisted in the 60th Foot, and the rest were sent to Holland.
In explanation of the preponderance of recruits for the 60th Foot, it may
be pointed out that this regiment was originally raised in America in
1755, under the title of the 62nd Loyal American Provincials, and
consisted principally of German and Swiss Protestants who had settled in
America, the principal qualification being that they were “antagonistic
to the French.”
In 1757 the title was changed to the 60th Royal Americans, which title it
bore till 1816. The regiment is now the King’s Royal Rifle Corps. It
served in America and the West Indies up to 1796. It was in England till
1808, when it went to the Peninsula. At Quebec it was described by
General Wolfe as “Celer et Audax,” which is now the regimental motto.
The crew of the _Jupiter_, with the captain, four lieutenants, and the
Admiral’s steward, 144 in all, were received 8th November 1797, and were
ultimately distributed in much the same manner, fifty entering the 60th.
In December, a month after their reception, the Dutch captain and two
lieutenants of this ship were sent to London to give evidence against two
British subjects who were taken in arms against this country on board the
_Jupiter_ when it was captured. Coach hire was allowed them, and double
the subsistence usually given to officers on parole.
Of the crew of the privateer _Stuyver_, numbering thirty-eight, captured
on 1st June 1797 by the _Astrea_, eight joined the English Navy.
From the registers we get information as to the length of time the
various crews, etc., remained in captivity. Thus the crew of the
_Furie_, a Dutch frigate, numbering 115, received at Norman Cross on the
4th October 1798, remained there until the Peace of Amiens in February
1802; the officers were out on parole, and the majority of them were
released in February 1800, under the Alkmaar Cartel.
Unfortunately the registers are very imperfectly kept; they are filled in
without any regularity; the entries appear to have been copied from other
documents, and there are weeks and months when column after column is
left blank. There is no doubt that the staff was too limited for the
work that was expected of it. Incomplete and bad clerical work was the
result. The names of several sloops and schooners are duly returned as
“Taken,” but in the columns “By whom and when taken,” is the entry
“Unknown.” There is an entry of three names bracketed together, probably
the crew of a fishing-boat: “Andreas Anderson, 1st Steerman; Johanna
Maria Dorata Anderson, Woman, his wife; Margrita Dorothea Anderson,
child. Received into custody 31st May 1800.” On 3rd June they are
marked as “On parole at Peterborough.”
There are occasional marginal notes, of which the following is an
example:
“This man was brought in by an escort of the Anglesea Militia from
Peterborough; never been here before.—Ideot.”
The reader must decide for himself, without any assistance from the
author, whether the word spelt “Ideot” was intended as a description of
the _supposed escaped PRISONER_, or as that of the officer who had sent
him in.
Norman Cross was not one of the prisons to which Americans were consigned
in any numbers, and was not affected by the positive order against any
natives of America being allowed to enter the British Service, or being
exchanged on any account whatever. The surgeons captured were allowed
special privileges in consideration of their devoting their professional
skill to the service of their fellow prisoners.
The registers are sufficient to indicate the nationality and the social
position of the population of the prison. The large number of the Dutch
who joined the English service shows that their hatred of imprisonment
was stronger than their hatred of the enemy who had captured them. As to
the nationality of the prisoners, they were in the first period of the
war, from 1797 to 1802, almost all French or Dutch; in the second period,
1803 to 1814, they were almost all French, and for those eleven years,
although there were representatives of various nationalities who had been
fighting on the side of the French, either as allies or actually serving
in the French ranks, the captives were always spoken of in the
neighbourhood as the French prisoners. There were published, in a recent
issue of the _Peterborough Advertiser_, extracts from newspapers
contemporary with the period of the Norman Cross Depot, the following
paragraph from a newspaper, the name of which is not given, is included:
“March 25th, 1814, Yarmouth. Yesterday morning the Dutch Volunteers
from Yaxley Barracks, who were organised, and have been in training
here about ten weeks, embarked in two divisions for the Dutch Coast.
They amounted to over 1,000 men. They were completely armed and
clothed, and made a soldier-like appearance. Their uniform was blue
jackets, faced with red, white trimmings, orange sash, and white star
on the caps. The cry of Orange Bonon, just after starting from the
Jetty, was universal.”
We have found no record of any numbers of Dutch prisoners being at Norman
Cross in this or any other year of the second period of the war. The
great bulk of this contingent, going out to serve against Napoleon, were
probably not Dutch, but men of various nationalities, who had gained
their freedom by volunteering for service under the allies, who were, on
the 25th March, within five days’ march of Paris. This Dutch contingent
was doubtless destined to join the army of Bernadotte.
The consideration of the prison life of our captives at the close of the
eighteenth century will serve to accentuate the difference between their
surroundings, their life, and their fate, and that of the prisoners taken
one hundred years later by either side in the South African War; and the
picture of the French and Dutch prisoners in the hulks or even in the
Depots in 1800, contrasted with that of the Boers in St. Helena and
Ceylon in 1900, must fill us with thankfulness for what the century’s
advance inhumanity, together with the altered conditions in which we
live, have enabled us and other nations to do to mitigate the miseries of
prisoners of war—woes which have existed from time immemorial, and which
are recognised in the prayer in the Litany, which has been offered up for
nearly two thousand years, invoking God’s pity “for all prisoners and
captives.”
In 1900, steam navigation, telegraphic communication, and Britain’s
command of the sea made it possible for her to place her prisoners _hors
de combat_ in islands whence escape was almost impossible, and where the
conditions of life were comparatively comfortable. In the war in which
we were engaged one hundred years before, there is abundant documentary
evidence to show that, although the conditions of that time made close
confinement within prison walls a cruel necessity, nevertheless, in the
treatment of our captives, the dictates of humanity were carried out, as
far as was possible, without defeating the main object of our
Government—the termination of the war with peace, safety, and honour for
England.
In December 1795, M. Charretie, who had resided for some time in England,
was appointed the commissary for France to look after the interests of
his countrymen in captivity in this country, and he still occupied the
post sixteen months later, when the first prisoners arrived at Norman
Cross, Mr. Swinburne being the agent for the British Government in
France.
At the time that the Norman Cross Prison was opened, the French and
British Governments were mutually accusing one another of inhumanity and
neglect in the treatment of their captives; the consideration of the
facts which led to these charges must be left until the internal
arrangements of the prison, disciplinary and economical, have been
described.