‘There is in this town (Oswestry) a French officer on parole who is supposed by himself and countrymen to possess strength little inferior to Samson. He is Monsieur Fiarsse, he follows the profession of a fencing-master, and is allowed to have considerable skill in that way. He had been boasting that he had beat every Englishman that opposed him in the town where he was last on parole (in Devonshire), and he sent a challenge the other day to a private of the 64th Regiment to a boxing-match. It was accepted. The Frenchman is a very tall, stout-built man, of a most ferocious countenance; the soldier is a little, round-faced man, as plump as a partridge. Five rounds were fought; the first, I understand, the Frenchman threw a blow at his adversary with all his strength which brought him down; he rose, however, in a moment, and played his part so well that I think M. Fiarsse will never like to attack a British soldier again! The little fellow made him spin again, he dealt his blows with such judgement. After the fifth round, Fiarsse said: “It is ‘nough! I vill no moe!”’

There were French Royalist refugees at Oswestry as elsewhere, and one of the hardest tasks of local parole agents was to prevent disturbances between these men and their bitter opponents the Bonapartist officer prisoners, dwelling in the same towns. In fact, the presence of large numbers of French Royalists in England, many of them very highly connected, brought about the very frequent attacks made on them in contemporary French literature and journalism for playing the parts of spies and traitors, and originated the parrot-cry at every French diplomatic or military and naval reverse, ‘Sold by the princes in England!’

There are graves of French prisoners in Oswestry churchyard. Upon one is ‘Ci-gît D. J. J. J. Du Vive, Capitaine-Adjudant aux États-Majors généraux: prisonnier de guerre sur parole; né à Pau, Dépt des Basses-Pyrénées, 26 Juillet 1762; décédé à Oswestry, 20 Juillet 1813.’

Leek

Leek, in Staffordshire, was also an important parole centre.

‘The officer prisoners at Leek received all courtesy and hospitality at the hands of the principal inhabitants, with many of whom they were on the most intimate terms, frequenting the assemblies, which were then as gay and as well attended as any within a circuit of 20 miles. They used to dine out in full uniform, each with his body-servant behind his chair.’ (Sleigh’s History of Leek.)

The first prisoners came here in 1803 from San Domingo. In 1809 and 1812 many more arrived—some accounts say as many as 200, and one fact considered worthy of record is that they were to be met prowling about early in the morning in search of snails!

A correspondent to Notes and Queries writes:

‘All accounts agree that these unfortunates conducted themselves with the utmost propriety and self-respect during their enforced sojourn among us; endearing themselves to the inhabitants generally by their unwonted courtesy and strictly honourable behaviour. But as to their estimate of human life, it was unanimously remarked that they seemed to value it no more than we should crushing a fly in a moment of irritation.’

The Freemasons had a Lodge ‘Réunion Désirée,’ and a Chapter ‘De l’Amitié,’ working at Leek in 1810–11.