To mark the character of the French seamen and of their naval service, I must here relate that a small leathern trunk or valise, in which I had saved a change of linen, etc., had been taken out of one of our marines’ hands, by a French sailor who spoke a little English, under the pretence of saving him the trouble of carrying it down the ship’s side; whilst the scoundrel, instead of putting it into the boat, handed it in through one of the lower-deck ports. Our marine, who remained on the ship’s gangway, had construed the transaction into an act of kindness, and concluded that the trunk had been safely deposited in the boat which was to carry us on shore; nor was the theft discovered until upon our landing, when the humble, though to me invaluable, property could not be found. I immediately communicated the fact to the officers who conducted us, and they instantly sent on board an order to search for the valise. In fact, they appeared excessively hurt that such an act of villainy should have been committed by one of their crew. They assured me that the perpetrator should be severely punished, and that my little portmanteau should be safely returned. I despaired of this very much, though I entertained little doubts of the first part of the promise being faithfully kept. In the meantime, these officers conducted us to the hospital, and insisted upon my wearing my sword all the way. The captain had refused to receive it on board, observing that I had been unfortunately wrecked, and not taken in fight, and, consequently, that I had no right to lose my sword; and he further remarked, that, in his opinion, we ought to be returned to our native country, and should not be considered as prisoners; but he added that the gaoler on shore would deprive me of my side-arms, which was afterwards the case.
On our arrival at the hospital, or rather prison (as we were closely watched and guarded), the gaoler took away my sword, and appeared very much enraged at my not allowing him to take my belt; this, I observed to him, could do no mischief. I now had the inexpressible happiness of shaking hands with all the officers, excepting Mr. Thomas (carpenter), who was unfortunately drowned in attempting to land in Bertheaume Bay, and Mr. Gordon (midshipman), who, I was very much pleased to hear, was safe at Conquêt, where he had effected a landing. We expected him and his boat’s crew round to Brest the following day.
On the 14th we had the pleasure of seeing him and his crew safely arrived; they spoke very handsomely of the treatment they had received at Conquêt and on the march. I now received part of the things that were in the valise, and the thief, I was informed, had run the gauntlet.
We were very well used during our stay here, and were attended by religieuses, or old nuns, which is a general custom in all the French hospitals. They were the most attentive nurses I ever beheld: constantly on the alert; visiting their patients; administering relief wherever it might be wanted; and always solacing the dejected.
On the 18th we received information that we should commence our march towards our depot on the following morning; and accordingly, on the 19th, we were ready at a moment’s notice. At about eight o’clock we were all drawn up in the hospital yard. Mr. Mahoney and myself (being the senior midshipmen) took our stations, as we were accustomed, next to the lieutenants; but, to our great surprise, on the names being called over, we were moved, together with Mr. Carey, the boatswain, and Mr. Simpson, the gunner,[6] and placed next to the seamen. At the same time, each of us was offered a loaf of brown bread for the day’s subsistence, which we declined. We demanded of the French officers an explanation of this extraordinary conduct, and they informed us that we were of a class (master’s mates) different from any in their navy, and that they had, therefore, ranked us as adjutants, or sous-officers, and they insisted that they could not make any alteration. Lieut. Pridham now interfered in our behalf. It appeared he had been made acquainted, on the preceding night, that we should be thus ranked; but not being versed in the regulations and titles of the French military service, he had supposed that an adjutant was equal to a rank between a midshipman and a lieutenant in our navy; and this, of course, he thought our proper place. After remonstrating for a long time against the impropriety of our being degraded to the ranks and put among the people, the officer agreed to go to the Minister of Marine[7] to have the business, as he termed it, arranged. He shortly returned; the Minister of Marine was out, but we received an assurance from his head clerk or secretary that the mistake should be rectified the moment he returned, and that a courier would be despatched after us to the next stage with another feuille de route. Thus far reconciled, we commenced our forced march—and, as we were informed, for Verdun, in Lorraine,—although our crew appeared quite indignant at this insult or disrespect offered to their officers, and refused to move until we persuaded them to be obedient.
At about seven in the evening we arrived at our first stage, the small and miserable village of Landernau, about twenty miles N.E. of Brest. I anxiously expected every moment the arrival of the courier, so little was I then acquainted with the nature of French promises and with the French character. Here, as a great favour, we were permitted to mix with the officers. Our allowance was eleven sous, or 5½d. per diem; whilst the youngest midshipman or volunteer had fifty. The allowance to the men, I believe, was only five sous.
At daylight, on the 20th, we commenced our march, rather more dejected than the day before. In the evening we arrived at Landiviziau, a distance of five or six leagues from Landernau, than which it was much smaller. Here we halted for the night, and the people were placed in stables, barns, etc. At daybreak, on the 21st, we commenced our march towards Morlaix. At about two in the afternoon, at four or five miles’ distance from the town, we were met by a captain of gendarmerie and two gendarmes, who, we understood afterwards, came out to escort us into that place. They had not long joined us when I happened to discover one of our ship’s boys lifting his hand to strike a young midshipman. I immediately ran up and chastised the youngster with a switch I fortunately had in my hand; but mark my amazement! when I beheld this blustering captain of gendarmerie foaming at the mouth, and riding up towards me at full speed, with his sword drawn. He appeared to be in a very great rage, swore vehemently, and wielded his sword repeatedly over my head. As I did not understand a syllable of what he spoke, but was certain it must be abusive language, from the passion he put himself into, I, parrot-like, repeated his own expressions as well as I could; which irritated him to such a degree, that had not the officer of infantry who was escorting us, and our own officers, interfered, I do not know to what length he might have carried the outrage. The officer of infantry expostulated with him on the impropriety of drawing his sword upon a naked prisoner, who could not even understand a word that he said. He declared, and persisted in it, that I spoke as good French as he did; that we were all prisoners alike; that we were now in a country where every man enjoyed liberty; and he would take care that whilst we were with him we should not tyrannise over one another; or, in other terms, that the officers should be on an equality with the men. I observed that some of the crew understood him, and that they explained his meaning to others, which seemed to please them extremely.
We had not, however, marched more than a mile when a circumstance took place which gave us all a fine specimen of the liberty boasted of in this land of republicanism and equality. A poor man, who appeared to be at least seventy years of age, happened to be conducting a cart along the road, and as he was approaching us this lover of liberty called to him to turn his horses aside until we had passed; but the poor unfortunate old man not hearing, and continuing his way, this brute rode up to him, and beat and mauled him so unmercifully that the seamen literally hissed him, and asked repeatedly, “If that were the liberty he had so much vaunted about a few minutes before?”
At about five in the afternoon we arrived at Morlaix. Our people were lodged and treated for the night much as usual; but the officers, including myself and Mr. Mahoney, were allowed to go to a tavern. On inquiry I found that this redoubtable captain of the gendarmerie had been a weaver before the Revolution, and by his perfidy had got advanced to the rank he held. I was informed that he visited our people in the night, and used his utmost exertions to make them turn traitors and enter into the French service. Most glad am I to say that he found all his efforts fruitless; and to the honour of our country be it related, that every proposal he made, every temptation he offered, was treated with disdain.
On the 22nd, about eight, we again commenced our route, and, after a long march, arrived at a small village, Belle-Isle-en-Terre, where we remained for the night, disagreeably situated, the village being excessively poor and small, the people extorting double prices for everything; however, this I have since found to be almost general throughout France.