With reference to the medical attendance at Norman Cross, Pillet says:
‘I have been witness and victim, as prisoner of war, of the false oath taken by the doctors at Norman Cross. They were supplied with medicines, flannel, cotton stuffs, &c., in proportion to the number of prisoners, for compresses, bandages, and so forth. When the supply was exhausted, the doctor, in order to get a fresh supply, drew up his account of usage, and swore before a jury that this account was exact. The wife of the doctor at Norman Cross, like that of the doctor of the Crown Prince at Chatham, wore no petticoats which were not made of cotton and flannel taken from the prison stores. So with the medicines and drugs. The contractor found the supply ample, and that there was no necessity to replace it, so he shared with the doctor and the apothecary the cost of what he had never delivered, although in the accounts it appeared that he had renewed their supplies.’
With George Borrow’s description in Lavengro of the brutalities exercised upon the prisoners at Norman Cross by the soldiers of the garrison, many readers will be familiar. As the recollection is of his early boyhood, it may be valued accordingly.
In 1808 a tourist among the churches of this part of East Anglia remarks upon the good appearance of the Norman Cross prisoners, particularly of the boys—the drummers and the ‘mousses’. He adds that many of the prisoners had learned English enough ‘to chatter and to cheat’, and that some of them upon release took away with them from two to three hundred pounds as the proceeds of the sale of their handiwork in drawings, wood, bone and straw work, chessmen, draughts, backgammon boards, dice, and groups in wood and bone of all descriptions.
The Block House, Norman Cross, 1809
From a sketch by Captain George Lloyd
In 1814 came Peace. The following extracts from contemporary newspapers made by Mr. Charles Dack, Curator of the Peterborough Museum, refer to the process of evacuation, Norman Cross Dépôt being also known as Stilton or Yaxley Barracks.
‘11th April, 1814. The joy produced amongst the prisoners of war at Norman Cross by the change of affairs in France (the abdication of Bonaparte) is quite indescribable and extravagant. A large white flag is set up in each of the quadrangles of the dépôt, under which the thousands of poor fellows, who have been for years in confinement, dance, sing, laugh, and cry for joy, with rapturous delight.
‘5th May, 1814. The prisoners at Stilton Barracks are so elated at the idea of being so soon liberated, that they are all bent on selling their stock, which they do rapidly at 50 per cent advanced prices. Many of them have realized fortunes of from £500 to £1,000 each.
‘June 9th, Lynn. Upwards of 1,400 French prisoners of war have arrived in this town during the last week from Stilton Barracks, to embark for the coast of France. Dunkirk, we believe, is the place of their destination. In consequence of the wind having been hitherto unfavourable, they have been prevented from sailing, and we are glad to state that their conduct in this town has hitherto been very orderly; and although they are continually perambulating the street, and some of them indulging in tolerable libations of ale, we have not heard of a single act of indecorum taking place in consequence.’
To these notes the late Rev. G. N. Godwin, to whom I am indebted for many details of life at Norman Cross, added in the columns of the Norwich Mercury:
‘The garrison of the dépôt caught the infection of wild joy, and a party of them seized the Glasgow mail coach on its arrival at Stilton, and drew it to Norman Cross, whither the horses, coachman and guard were obliged to follow. The prisoners were so elated at the prospect of being liberated that they ceased to perform any work. Many of them had realized fortunes of £500 to £1,000 each in Bank of England notes.’