Our prisoners at the commencement were confined in this place; but when they became numerous they were moved down to the horse-barracks, from a dread, I suppose, of their revolting some day and taking possession of citadel, town, and all. Had they once possession of one, the other would be entirely at their mercy and disposal. During our stay at this depot, four of the seamen escaped from their prison, two of whom belonged to our late frigate. On their being missed the following morning, parties of gendarmes on horseback were despatched by the commandant to search for them in all directions, with strict orders to mutilate, and, in fact, not to bring them back alive; “that it might prove an example” (using his own expression) “to the rest of the prisoners.” However, fortunately for those poor fellows, they escaped their pursuers—at least for that time. They were afterwards taken at Dunkirk as they were about to embark in an open boat. The commandant was also frequently in the habit of riding into the prison-yard, and taking his pistols out of the holsters, examining the priming in order to terrify us. This he did generally in the evening, and the prisoners could not refrain from laughing at such foolish conduct.
Upon our arrival here, we found, as prisoners of war, the crews of the Minerve and the Shannon, frigates that had been commanded by Captains Jahleel Brenton and Gower, who, with their officers, were at Verdun. There were also in confinement a number of English seamen that had been captured in merchant vessels. We were immediately visited by a Mr. Bradshaw, one of Captain Brenton’s clerks, sent here by him, who was permitted to reside in the town, in order that he might act as that officer’s commissary.[8] Mr. Bradshaw introduced me and my companions to Captain Petervin, of the gendarmerie, who was commandant of the prisoners of war. A Jersey man, named Goree, was employed as interpreter, and he explained to Captain Petervin our rank in the English service; but the captain, though unwilling to put us under close imprisonment, seemed at a loss what to do with us, as we had been sent to him as private seamen. He hesitated, and for a long time remained undecided; but at last he consented that we might go to La Tête de Cerf tavern that night. To La Tête de Cerf we joyfully proceeded with Mr. Bradshaw, after giving Monsieur le Commandant a thousand thanks for his condescension. We found that we had been sent to a very decent tavern, the first in the town, which convinced us that the captain of the gendarmerie entertained a favourable opinion of the English adjutants. We justified his acuteness by ordering a good dinner. Mr. Bradshaw dined with us, and exhilarated our drooping spirits by assurances that the commandant would be induced to permit us to lodge in the town. We ordered an additional bottle of wine on the strength of this good news, and passed the evening as cheerfully as possible under the recollection of past sufferings, and with the dismal prospect of a long imprisonment, apart from the glorious services which our profession was then rendering to our country.
The next day the commandant received us with the politeness for which his countrymen had at one time been so proverbial. We explained through our interpreter the excessive injustice and cruelty of being sent to the seamen’s depot, and treated differently from our brother officers. He sympathised with us in all we said, assuring us that he would send off a despatch to General Wirion at Verdun (who was commander-in-chief over the British prisoners) and state the case to him. At the same time, he advised us to write to our commanding officer, and promised to have our letter forwarded. He desired us to remain quietly at our tavern, and assured us that he would do everything in his power to alleviate our distresses. We gave him our best thanks, took our leave, and returned to the Tête de Cerf.
Upon an overhauling of our finances, we had the mortification to find that we could not remain many days at a tavern, not having a farthing allowed us for our subsistence; the fivepence halfpenny per diem ending at the moment we arrived at the depot. Mr. Bradshaw could not render us any pecuniary assistance without Captain Brenton’s permission; consequently our situation was becoming every moment worse and worse. As lodgings, we were informed, were excessively cheap in the town, we concluded that we had better apply to the commandant for leave to hire a couple of rooms, with cooking utensils, etc., than continue any longer as we were. However, we dreaded that he might order us into the barracks with the seamen if we began so early to demand favours. We therefore agreed to be extremely economical and to wait a few days longer. Those days being expired, we made the intended application, and with success. He approved of our plan, and gave us a written permission to walk about the town. This he did entirely upon his own responsibility, and assured us that he relied upon our honour not to go without the limits of the town; adding that if we abused this indulgence we would be severely punished. We declared our intentions were not to cause him the smallest trouble or uneasiness, and we were particular in the observance of our promise.
The same day we hired two rooms at Madame de Garde’s, the widow of a ci-devant general. She provided us with two beds for us four, cooking utensils, and everything necessary for housekeeping, and at a very moderate price. We acquainted Mons. le Commandant of our success, who congratulated us, but, at the same time, appeared sorry that we lodged with this old lady, observing that she was une Jacobine, and of the old school. All persons at this time who were known to be attached to the English were reprobated as Jacobins; and I need not say that we liked the old dame the better for this information, though we took care to disguise our feelings and to conceal the fact. Our ménage commenced the following morning. We took the daily cooking and different duties by rotation; but were soon able to get rid of these unpleasant services, for we procured permission for an infirm old man named Allen, who had been our captain’s steward, to live with us as our cook and servant. Our dishes were certainly not very varied or exquisite: soup and bouilli, with vegetables, constituted our daily fare; and even this, we apprehended, would soon be beyond our rapidly decreasing finances.
All April and May had dismally passed and no answers to our letters had been received from Verdun. Our rent was in arrear, and our purses at the point of exhaustion. We solicited Mr. Bradshaw to grant us the sailor’s allowance of a pound of meat each per diem; but even this he could not do without the authority of Captain Brenton. This, however, was received from Verdun by return of post. The pound of meat proved of very material service to the poor adjutants, and they were most thankful to their humane chief, Captain Brenton.
At length arrived the glorious 4th of June, the birthday of our sovereign, George the Third; and for this one day at least were our sufferings forgotten and our sorrows cast to the wind. We were resolved, if possible, to make some demonstration in honour of the day; and at last, low as were our pecuniary circumstances, we did contrive to give a birthday dinner to the commandant and to the paymaster of the depot. From this latter officer, whose name was Payne, we had received many civilities.
The day altogether passed off very agreeably until about sunset, when the time arrived for locking the seamen up in the different wards of the gaol. They now gave three tremendous cheers, which flowed from the heart, in commemoration of the day that gave birth to their gracious sovereign; and, as the last cheer stunned and terrified the astounded Frenchmen, they hauled in the colours of different nations that they had kept all day streaming out of each window, taking care to have the French tri-coloured flag under all, which was never noticed by either commandant or guards. The enthusiastic cheers of nearly a thousand men made a most powerful noise: it was music to our ears as we sat at table, our lodgings being contiguous. The commandant, who was greatly alarmed, imagined that the seamen had revolted and had actually got out of prison: so great was this officer’s hurry that he made but one step from the top of the stairs to the bottom. We had some little trouble in getting him on his legs again, and were greatly rejoiced in finding that he had received no injury from this step, or rather fall—assuring him there was no foundation whatever for his fears. However, he would be convinced in person: he therefore went to the prison, and was rejoiced to find everything perfectly tranquil.
Being returned, he observed that the English were des braves gens, and he would drink another glass of wine in commemoration of King George’s birthday. The national dish, roast beef with plum pudding, which we had made ourselves, was not forgotten upon this occasion. Monsieur liked the well-done or outside part of the former extremely; but the latter neither of our guests would touch for a long time. At last, by dint of persuasion, they condescended to taste it; and so sudden was the transition made upon them by that taste that we had some pains to secure ourselves a part, though it was a pretty sizable pudding. They exclaimed as they gulped it down, “Sacré bleu, comme il est bon!”—“Ma foi, oui!” repeated each alternately. We felt highly pleased at the sight, and laughed heartily.
At a late hour, or rather, in regard to the morning, an early one, Messieurs took their leave, evidently in great spirits, and we retired to rest.