On the 16th of July 1804 we arrived early at Fumez. Here an old woman doing the duty of crier attracted my notice. At a corner of one of the streets she began her preamble. She had a small bar of iron in one hand and a large key in the other, as a substitute for a bell. We were allowed to do as we pleased on our arrival, and to go to any inn we liked. Our guard informed us that the commandant of Givet had inserted in our feuille de route that we should be considered as officers on parole and be treated accordingly.
From Fumez we were marched to Mezières, and put up at a tavern, being now officers of rank, which our landlady appeared to have been informed of. This old lady was, if possible, more extortionate than any we had yet met with. We found that, unless we previously made an agreement, particularly specifying what we wished, and regulating the price of every article, we should be liable to the greatest imposition; and this, indeed, is pretty generally the case throughout France. From Mezières we passed through Sedan, Stenay, and a small village, Sivry; and on the 23rd arrived at Verdun, the long-wished-for place of our ultimate destination.
We were received by Captain Brenton, our officers, and countrymen in the most joyful and cordial manner. For two nights, until we could procure lodgings, we were billeted at the inn Les Trois Maures, at which the Emperor Napoleon put up on his return after his splendid campaign in Germany and the Treaty of Tilsit. Two or three days after our arrival, Mr. Pridham introduced us to General Wirion, who gave us permission to walk in the suburbs, provided our commanding officer became responsible for our conduct, corps pour corps; which Lieutenant Pridham had done. In the course of a few days I procured lodgings, recently vacated by a détenu, Sir James de Bathe, with Mr. Ashworth, a midshipman, who had been one of my messmates in our late ship, the Hussar. He afterwards died at Minorca, in consequence of wounds he had received off Tarragona, when a lieutenant of H.M.S. Centaur, while in the act of snatching from destruction the unfortunate Spaniards who were being sabred by the French cavalry when rushing into the sea to our boats for protection.[9]
As soon as I found myself a little settled, in conjunction with my much-esteemed friend Ashworth I employed a French master, and pursued my studies with the utmost assiduity. I never left the town, except occasionally on race-days or days of other public amusements. It should be remarked that races, and all species of amusements that can deprive an Englishman of his property, or divert his attention for a moment, were allowed by the general who commanded the prisoners. I have been informed that there were fixed prices for all these indulgences. The hazard-table and rouge et noir have been the destruction of many of our countrymen. Every kind of debauchery and libertinism, I am sorry to add, was permitted and practised in this town. Latterly, from the principal people of fashion and men of property being dispersed, horse-racing ceased, and gambling also, in a great degree.
We likewise engaged a fencing-master, and, as soon as we were tolerably advanced in the French language, we procured an Italian master, and applied ourselves to study under him with the greatest diligence. These literary pursuits were of incalculable advantage to us; for, whilst they strengthened the mind, and spread over it the charms inseparable from the acquisition of useful knowledge, they fortified us against the allurements of dissipation, lightened the weight of our captivity, and saved us from that moral disease ennui, with all its train of passions and disordered appetites which people are prone to inflict upon themselves by an indulgence in habits of idleness. We were stimulated in our zeal for our studies by reflecting that we were acquiring that which would make us more useful to our country in our profession. However, what we witnessed and what we experienced convinced us of the inestimable benefits of mental pursuits in mitigating the sufferings of captivity, as well as of the extent to which those sufferings are aggravated by a want of intellectual employment.
In a few months after my arrival, a Mr. M’Grath, a relation of mine, was escorted to this depot, with Mr. Wills, master’s mate, and a boat’s crew of the frigate Acasta. Mr. M’Grath was surgeon’s assistant. They had been made prisoners on the island of Beniget, near Brest. Mr. Wills had been ordered early in the morning to land on that island and load his boat with sand for scouring the decks; and Mr. M’Grath had received permission to accompany him, merely for the purpose of taking a walk and amusing himself while the men were loading the boat; but they had no sooner landed than they were surrounded by a number of French troops that were lying in ambush for them, and had been disembarked the night before for the express purpose of surprising some of the English boats which were daily in the habit of coming on shore. Our poor fellows were immediately secured, embarked, and conducted to the Continent. From the cruel treatment which they experienced on their march, they were so exhausted on their arrival at Verdun that both the officers were seized with a violent fever. Mr. Thos. George Wills, an excellent officer, now a post-captain, recovered in a short time; but his companion lost the use of his limbs, and was confined to his bed, with little or no intermission, until July 1808, when he burst a blood-vessel and expired without a groan. He lived with me the greater part of that time.
But to return to the thread of my own narrative. We continued at Verdun from July 1804, amusing ourselves by study, and in the winter by skating, etc., until August 1807, when I began to consider my situation minutely and to deliberate upon my unfortunate captivity. Those deliberations had the effect of making me very uncomfortable and dissatisfied; nor could I afterwards reconcile myself to study or to any amusement whatever. I reasoned with myself that I was losing the prime of my youth in captivity. I saw no prospect of peace or an exchange of prisoners; no hope or possibility of being promoted in my present state, nor of recommending myself, through any personal exertions, to the notice of the Admiralty. I was deprived, while in France, of being able to afford my country, my friends, or myself the least assistance. The youthful visions of the glories of the naval service again came over me; but sadly were my spirits broken when I reflected that my hopes of joining others in the strife of honour and patriotism were destroyed, unless I could rescue myself from bondage.
In this horrible state, almost of stupefaction, I remained for some days; when my poor friend Ashworth observed to me, that he and Mr. Tuthill, a particular friend, a midshipman also, had been canvassing the cruelty and hardships they laboured under, and had, in consequence, formed the intention, if I would join them, of transgressing, and getting deprived of their permission to go out of town (what the French deemed parole), and making their escape to their native country. This was to me the most flattering intelligence—it was what I had been revolving in my brain for some days. We accordingly met at an appointed place to deliberate on the best method of putting in execution the exploit we were about to commence, and agreed that it was necessary to procure knapsacks, provisions, bladders to contain water, etc., prior to our getting closely confined, as we should be under the necessity of travelling by night, and of concealing ourselves in the woods during the daytime.
Having, therefore, provided all the requisite materials—viz., files, gimlets, saws, and other articles which are needless to mention,—that, in case of being taken, we might be able to break our fetters and escape from the slavery and punishment we were well aware would await us; and Mr. Ashworth and I having waited upon Lieutenant Pridham, to request he would withdraw his responsibility for us, which he accordingly did,—we commenced by missing one appel; but, to our great astonishment, this breach of conduct was overlooked and forgiven.[10] We next remained out of town very late. This was also forgiven, though we even got into the guard-house. In short, it was several days before we succeeded in being deprived of our passports, or “permissions”; and we suspected, or rather felt confident, from the lenity shown to us, that our design of escape was suspected. Our personal honour, as well as that of the navy,—and, indeed, of the English nation in general,—had precluded the possibility of our attempting to escape whilst we were upon what was deemed, by the French commandant, parole; but now we were literally under close confinement; and with the reflection that, perhaps, so favourable an opportunity of getting away might never again be afforded to us, we were not slow in forming our resolutions.