By a curious coincidence the agent, who, during the two years in which the child was making his personal observations, practically ruled the Depot, and carried out the necessary steps to suppress the traffic in straw plait, had his record cut in stone at the actual time when the events recorded in Lavengro took place. On the wall of St. Peter’s Church, Yaxley, is a marble tablet with this legend:
“Inscribed at the desire and the sole expense of the French Prisoners of War at Norman Cross to the memory of Captain John Draper, who for the last eighteen months of his life was Agent to the Depot, in testimony of their esteem and gratitude for his humane attention to their comfort during that too short period, he died Feb. 23, 1813, aged 53 years.”
Was ever a calumny more absolutely disproved than is this aspersion of George Borrow’s upon the fair fame of his country, by the testimony of the very persons whom he said she had maltreated and whose evidence, cut in stone at their desire and sole expense at the very time the boy was in the barracks, appeals to us from that marble slab?
This manufacture of straw plait went on not only at Norman Cross, but in the other prisons, the manufacturers being no doubt assisted by all their comrades in captivity to elude the efforts of the authorities to stop the traffic. The following amusing incident, narrated in Penny’s Traditions of Perth, is retold by Mr. William Sievwright: [144]
“As much straw plait as made a bonnet was sold for four shillings, and being exceedingly neat it was much enquired after. In this trade many a one got a bite, for the straw was all made up in parcels, and smuggled into the pockets of purchasers for fear of detection. The following is an instance of the manner in which the prisoners practised their deceptions. An unsuspecting man having been induced by his wife to purchase a quantity of straw plait for a bonnet, he attended the market, and soon found a merchant; he paid the money, but lest he should be observed, he turned about his back to the seller and got the thing slipped into his hand, and then into his pocket. Away he went with his parcel, well pleased that he had escaped detection. On his way he thought he would examine his purchase, when, to his astonishment, and no doubt his deep mortification, he found instead of straw plait, a bundle of shavings very neatly tied up. The man instantly returned and charged the prisoners with the deception and insisted on getting back his money, but the man could not be seen from where the purchase was made. Whilst hanging on to catch a glimpse of him, he was told that if he did not get away he would be informed on and tried for buying the article. Seeing that there was no chance of getting amends, he was retiring, when one came forward and said he would find the man, and make him take back the shavings, and get the money. Pretending deep commiseration, the prisoner said he had no change, but if he would give him sixteen shillings, he would give him a pound note and take his chance of the man. The unfortunate ‘shavings’ dupe was simple enough to give the money and take the note, thinking himself well off to get quit of his purchase, but to his supreme chagrin he found the note to be a well-executed forgery on the Perth Bank.”
After this story, what further need is there to seek evidence of the cleverness, the versatility, the neat-handedness, and the dexterity of the French prisoners!
In all the prisons, forgery of bank-notes was a business to which the captives applied their skill, and the fate of two who practised this art at Norman Cross has already been alluded to. The straw plait industry, which probably originated at Norman Cross, would be passed on with the transferred prisoners to Perth and other prisons. Great embarrassment having arisen from the increase of French prisoners, who numbered in 1811 50,000 (Norman Cross being greatly overcrowded with nearly 7,000), the Depot at Perth was built, and in 1812 the first prisoners were admitted.
As another instance of the frivolous character of the complaints made by the French Government as to our treatment of the prisoners, it may here be mentioned that the detention of sailors in such a situation was made the subject of loud and frequent complaint by the French Emperor, who said in the Moniteur that “by a refinement of cruelty the English Government sends the French soldiers on board the hulks, and the sailors into prisons in the interior of Scotland.” Alison alludes to this in his history, [146a] and in a footnote he adds:
“The great Depot for French Prisoners in Scotland, which Napoleon held out as so deplorable a place of detention, was a noble edifice erected at a cost of nearly £100,000 in a beautiful and salubrious situation near Perth on the Tay, which was in 1839 converted into a great central jail for criminals. It contained 7,000 prisoners, and so healthy was the situation, the lodging, and the fare, that the mortality, only five or six annually, was less than the average for healthy adults in Great Britain.” [146b]
Among the prisoners at Norman Cross were men who, before their enrolment in the French or Dutch army or navy, were workers, skilled in branches of industry unknown in England, and there is a record that, on the 5th April 1808, the agent was instructed to send a French prisoner, Louis Félix Paris, to London, as he was an expert in the “ormolu business.” To meet the expense, two £1 Bank of England notes were sent.