Our little salary seemed to command some respect from the turnkeys, soldier-officers, and subalterns, who were themselves as poor and meager as Romeo’s apothecary. It brought us many indulgences, such as full liberty of the markets, which before had been prohibited, and we compelled to purchase of the French at the gratings. This was a great benefit to us, for we could now trade with the country people much cheaper.
To regulate our rations, we were also allowed to appoint a committee of two, to attend at the store-house to see that the contractor gave us weight in those articles allowed by the Board.
The day after we received our payment, we received London papers containing an official account of the allies entering Paris, and the complete defeat and downfall of Bonaparte. This news was a sore affliction to the French prisoners, who were passionately attached to the Emperor, and not much less galling to the Americans; for now some boasting pettimaitres among the British officers would come into the yard, in the most taunting, vile manner, to sport with the feelings of the prisoners of both nations: “For,” said they, “we have conquered France, and have not the least doubt but we shall shortly completely reduce the United States to colonies of Great Britain, and your haughty President become a mendicant vagabond.” This insolence was too much for flesh and blood to bear. They declared they could have peace on any terms they wished, and, although we were yet prisoners of war, they considered us their subjects.
Such language to prisoners who could not resent it, showed that the authors of it could be nothing better than the vilest caitiffs, and could flow from nothing but the meanest of envy.
The French prisoners felt this conduct much more severe than we; for the conquest was already made, and they were obliged to look to a master whom they hated, to one who was the choice of their enemies, Louis XVIII.
Many gentlemen visited the prison to congratulate those unfortunate men on their being restored to liberty, and thought that as they had been many of them confined from five to eleven years, they would rejoice at the idea of liberty under any monarch. They presented the prisoners with the old national flag, and advised them to wear the white cockade; but they declared, in the presence of those gentlemen, that they would prefer staying in prison all their lifetime than to serve any other master, or become subject to any other king than Bonaparte, whom they loved. But the sequel will show how lasting their determinations were, and how like they were to their nation at large.
At this time to express their regret at the misfortune of their beloved emperor, and their resentment to the proffered flag and cockade of the new monarch, they came forward every man, wearing the tri-colored cockade, and the white ones on the heads of the dogs that ran about the yards. The white flag they destroyed with great eagerness, in presence of the visitors and great numbers of British officers standing on the wall.
Shortly after this intelligence of the affairs of France, we had letters from Chatham, which informed us that, since the last from that place, there had arrived great numbers of prisoners there, and that many were almost persuaded in their own minds to enter the enemy’s service; that they had received the additional allowance at the same time as ourselves. On the 15th we were informed that there was a draft ready at Plymouth, and would shortly be sent to this depot.
About this time a separate arrangement was made for allowing the crew of the U. S. brig Argus half pay, to be received monthly, and at the time the first payment was received, they received clothing. This was an additional benefit to our prison, as there were established in it a great number of shops for various branches of business; this money circulated within ourselves, and every one derived some advantage.
The preliminaries of peace being agreed on at Paris, the French prisoners, towards the close of the month, began to make all preparation for leaving the prison, and once more visiting their native country. The idea of returning to their native land, their homes, and their wives, was too nicely interwoven with the threads of their nature to be razed by that of their aversion to the Bourbons. The change which was about to take place in their situation had in it too many of the endearments of life to be sacrificed for the love of any monarch. The scenes of their youth, the places where they had spent so many careless, pleasant days, the embraces of their friends, all rushed upon their minds at once, and they could not forbear the highest transports of joy. They went to leave all the evils that men suffer in this life, and to embrace all the good and blessings of it.