Hop-plants are said to have been introduced hereabouts by the prisoners—probably Germans.
Mr. James Brown thus writes about the prisoners at Sanquhar:
‘They were Frenchmen, Italians and Poles—handsome young fellows, who had all the manners of gentlemen, and, living a life of enforced idleness, they became great favourites with the ladies with whose hearts they played havoc, and, we regret to record, in some instances with their virtue.’
‘This’, says the Rev. Matthew Dickie, of the South United Free Church, Sanquhar, ‘is only too true. John Wysilaski, who left Sanquhar when quite a youth and became a “settler” in Australia, was the illegitimate son of one of the officers. This John Wysilaski died between 25 and 30 years of age, and left a large fortune. Of this he bequeathed £60,000 to the Presbyterian Church of Victoria, and over £4,000 to the church with which his mother had been connected, viz. the South Church, Sanquhar, and he directed the interest of this sum to be paid to the Minister of the South Church over and above his stipend. The same Polish officer had another son by another woman, Louis Wysilaski, who lived and died in his native town. I remember him quite well.’
Dumfries
The first detachment of officer-prisoners arrived at Dumfries in November 1811, from Peebles, whence they had marched the thirty-two miles to Moffat, and had driven from there. The agent at Dumfries was Mr. Francis Shortt, Town Clerk of the Burgh, and brother of Dr. Thomas Shortt, who, as Physician to the British Forces at St. Helena, was to assist, ten years later, at the post-mortem examination of Bonaparte.
At first the prices asked by the inhabitants for lodgings somewhat astonished the prisoners, being from fifteen to twenty-five shillings a week, but in the end they were moderately accommodated and better than in Peebles. Their impressions of Dumfries were certainly favourable, for not only had they in Mr. Shortt a just and kindly Agent, but the townsfolk and the country gentry offered them every sort of hospitality. In a letter to Mr. Chambers of Peebles, one of them says: ‘The inhabitants, I think, are frightened with Frenchmen, and run after us to see if we are like other people; the town is pretty enough, and the inhabitants, though curious, seem very gentle.’
Another, after a visit to the theatre, writes in English:
‘I have been to the theatre of the town, and I was very satisfied with the actors; they are very good for a little town like Dumfries, where receipts are not very copious, though I would have very much pleasure with going to the play-house now and then. However, I am deprived of it by the bell which rings at five o’clock, and if I am not in my lodging by the hour appointed by the law, I must at least avoid to be in the public meeting, at which some inhabitants don’t like to see me.’
It was long before the natives could get used to certain peculiarities in the Frenchmen’s diet, particularly frogs. A noted Dumfries character, George Hair, who died a few years ago, used to declare that ‘the first siller he ever earned was for gatherin’ paddocks for the Frenchmen’, and an aged inmate of Lanark Poorhouse, who passed his early boyhood at Dumfries, used to tell a funny frog story. He remembered that fifteen or sixteen prisoners used to live together in a big house, not far from his father’s, and that there was a meadow near at hand where they got great store of frogs. Once there was a Crispin procession at Dumfries, and a Mr. Renwick towered above all the others as King.