‘The Crispin ploy, ye ken, cam frae France, an’ the officers in the big hoose askit the King o’ the cobblers tae dine wi’ them. They had a gran’ spread wi’ a fine pie, that Maister Renwick thocht was made o’ rabbits toshed up in some new fangled way, an’ he didna miss tae lay in a guid stock. When a’ was owre, they askit him how he likit his denner, an’ he said “First rate”. Syne they lauched and speered him if he kent what the pie was made o’, but he said he wasna sure. When they tell’t him it was paddocks, it was a’ ane as if they had gien him a dose of pizzen. He just banged up an’ breenged oot the hoose. Oor bit winnock lookit oot on the Frenchmen’s backyaird, an’ we saw Maister Renwick sair, sair forfochen, but after a dainty bit warsle, he an’ the paddocks pairtit company.’
It is recorded that the French prisoners considered a good fat cat an excellent substitute for a hare.
At a fire, two French surgeons who distinguished themselves in fighting it, were, on a petition from the inhabitants to the Transport Board, allowed to return immediately to France. But another surgeon who applied to be sent to Kelso as he had a relative there, was refused permission—a refusal, which, it is quite possible, was really a compliment, for the records of parole life in Britain abound with evidence of the high estimation in which French prisoner-surgeons were held in our country towns.
Between thirty and forty officers tried to escape from Dumfries during the three years of its being a Parole Town; most of these were recaptured, and sent to Valleyfield Prison. Four officers took advantage of the fishing-licence usually extended to the officers on parole here, by which strict adherence to the mile limit was not insisted upon, and gradually got their belongings away to Lochmaben, eight miles distant, where were also parole prisoners. One of them actually wrote to the Colonel of the Regiment stationed in Dumfries, apologizing for his action, explaining it, promising that he would get an English officer-prisoner in France exchanged, and that he would not take up arms against her, and that he would repay all the civilities he had received in Scotland. But all were recaptured and sent to Valleyfield.
As instances of the strictness with which even a popular agent carried out his regulations, may be cited that of the officer here, who was sent to Valleyfield because he had written to a lady in Devonshire, enclosing a letter to a friend of his. a prisoner on parole there, without first showing it to the Agent. In justice to Mr. Shortt, however, it is right to say that had the letter been a harmless one, and not, as was generally the case, full of abuse of the Government and the country, so extreme a view would not have been taken of the breach. Another instance was the refusal by the Agent of a request in 1812 from the officers to give a concert. In this case he was under orders from the Transport Office.
In March 1812, a number of the prisoners had at their own request copies of the Scriptures supplied them in English, French, German, Italian, and Spanish.
That the French officers on parole in Britain politically arranged their allegiance to the Powers that were, is exemplified by the following incidents at Dumfries. On the re-establishment of the Bourbon Dynasty, the following address was drawn up and sent to the French Commissioners for the release of prisoners:
‘Dumfries, le 6 Mai 1814.
‘Les officiers détenus sur parole donnent leur adhésion aux actes du Gouvernement Français qui rappelle l’illustre sang des Bourbons, au trône de ses ancêtres. Puissent les Français compter une longue suite de rois du sang de Saint Louis et de Henri IV, qui a toujours fait leur gloire et assuré leur bonheur! Vive Louis XVIII! Vivent les Bourbons!’
On the 24th of the same month a French officer, seeing in the window of a bookseller’s shop a ludicrous caricature of Bonaparte, went into the shop in a violent passion, bought two copies, and tore them in pieces before a crowd of people, uttering dreadful imprecations against those who dared to insult ‘his Emperor’. The fact is that the army to a man was Bonapartist at heart, as after events showed, but at Dumfries, as elsewhere, personal interests rendered it politic to assume loyalty and devotion to the re-established Royalty. Most of the prisoners, however, who elected to remain in Britain after the Declaration of Peace were unswerving Royalists. Lieutenant Guillemet at Dumfries was one of these. He became a professor of French at Dumfries Academy and also gave lessons in fencing, and was a great favourite with his pupils and the public. His son was for many years a chemist at Maxwelltown.
The average number of prisoners was about 100: they were mostly soldiers, and not sailors, on account of the proximity of Dumfries to the sea. I cannot refrain from adding to the frequent testimonies I have quoted as illustrating the good understanding which existed between captors and captives in Scotland, the following extract from a Farewell Letter which appeared in the Dumfries Courier, April 26, 1814, contributed by Lieutenant De Montaignac of the ‘Parisian Guard’.