On the 5th of last May, Mr. Robinson, with other prisoners, was ordered to Quimper, at the distance of forty-five miles from Brest. A man on crutches, who had but one leg, and that crippled, might be supposed to be entitled to the indulgence of a vehicle for his conveyance. But when this unfortunate officer asked how he was to be transported to the place of his destination, he received for answer—“Walk, to be sure!”—In vain did he represent his utter incapacity. He was commanded to set out with the other prisoners; and complied. At the end of a mile he found himself totally exhausted, and must have lain down to perish on the road, or await the casual humanity of passengers, had not the soldiers who formed the escort, lifted him into a cart, which conveyed the baggage. When they reached Quimper in a heavy rain, they were all put, without distinction, into an old convent, and during the whole of this day received for food and bedding—straw only.—Finding himself wet and feverish, and possessing neither dry clothes or a bed, Mr. Robinson requested, as a favour, that he might be allowed to sleep for the first night at any house in town, observing to his keepers that he could not run away; and offering, in case of compliance with his entreaty, to defray not only his own expence, but that of the sentinel who might be placed over him.—He was peremptorily refused.
Soon after Lady Anne Fitzroy, and her brother Mr. Wesley, arrived here. He who recollects the former courtesy and gallantry of this once polished nation will scarcely believe, that an attempt could be made to immure a young, helpless, and beautiful woman, within the walls of a common prison. “The age of chivalry is indeed no more!” By much supplication, and after considerable difficulty, her ladyship obtained permission to hire an apartment in an adjoining house, and to be served by a traiteur with what she wanted for herself and her attendants. She was, however, forbidden to hold any communication with the people of the town, and a sentinel was placed over her to enforce the order. In the process of her confinement, liberty of walking in a garden, at the back of her prison, was granted to her ladyship; and this signal indulgence was followed up with leave to walk in the town, or to be carried in a sedan which she had borrowed, guarded, however, by her sentinel, lest her machinations might endanger the republic. The humane beneficence exerted by Lady Anne and her brother, to all ranks of their poor countrymen in captivity, are proclaimed here in terms of the most enthusiastic applause and gratitude. Misery, in whatever shape it appeared, excited their compassion, and called forth their bounty. They supplied the unhappy sufferers in the common prison with raiment, bedding, and food, without which assistance many of them must have perished.—You will observe, by one of my former letters (which, long ere this you must have received) that I had not the good fortune to see her ladyship. Admiral Bligh was more lucky, when he carried his son, in last January, on board the ship she was in, to receive her protection. We have known, for some time past, that they arrived safely in England.
Were it necessary to continue the subject, after what you have read, I am sorry to say, that it is in my power to adduce many more instances of premeditated systematic neglect, cruelty, and oppression, with which prisoners have been treated in this part of France during the present war. Many of the evils they have endured must indeed be placed to the account of Precini, the commissary, the same blockhead whose indecent democratic manners, in a company of ladies, so much disgusted me soon after I came to this place. This man has at length been superseded, and his office filled by a very plain honourable character, who extends to all in his department not only strict justice, but every fair and consistent indulgence, which the ameliorated state of public sentiments allows. The dismission of his predecessor, which was of the unceremonious kind, we chiefly owe to the representations made by Captain Kittoe, who had long witnessed his iniquity, and combated it, after a long struggle, successfully. The defence which this gentleman made at the club (or popular society) of the town, before which he was denounced, for “harsh and unjust usage of the prisoners of war,” shall, however, be recorded in his justification. He did not deny that he had issued to them bad and unwholesome provisions; but this, he said, was only in compliance with orders he had received; in proof of which he named a representative, who had publickly directed, that the store-houses at Brest should be searched for damaged biscuit, “which,” said he, “is good enough for those—— of Englishmen!” Had the charges against him turned on this single point, he must, therefore, have been acquitted of them; but it was clearly proved against him, that he had been guilty of innumerable acts of oppression and peculation.
While Precini locked up and cheated the prisoners, there were not wanting others to sport with their misery. I dare say you have often read, in extracts taken from the Paris news-papers, of a noisy speaker in one of the sections, distinguished by his ridiculous assumption of the name of Brutus. This man is now a private sentinel, although but a few months since he was a general officer, and commanded the troops here. He was (like Tribout) originally a barber. During his command he took great delight in harassing the prisoners, and adding to their distresses. In one of these freaks an unlucky prognostic occurred of the decline of this great man’s glory. Some Englishmen who had broken out of prison, in order to effect their escape, were retaken, and brought back. To amuse himself, Brutus ordered them to be shackled with the heaviest irons which could be procured, and in this condition marched them several times round the prison-yard; in the centre of which, encompassed by his satellites, he stood, enjoying their pain and aukward movements. A Guernsey-man, who was of the number, as they passed by the General, looked him full in the face, and cried, “Chacun à son tour.” At the moment it caused only an increase of the universal merriment; but the prediction seemed to be in some measure verified, when, soon after, Brutus’s truncheon was taken from him, and a musquet put in its place.
This letter will be forwarded to you by Mr. Robinson, the gentleman whose name is so often mentioned in it. After a captivity of eighteen months, he has received permission, in consideration of his wounds, to return to England, on condition of sending back a French officer of equal rank to himself.—— Adieu.
LETTER X.
Quimper, 30th April, 1795.
AT length the clouds of misfortune begin to separate, and a gleam of hope (though remote) breaks athwart the gloom, and points to England; whence I have lately received letters from those who are dearest to me, in which class I need not say you are included. You were right to be so brief and guarded in your expressions; although, as it happened, your letter reached me unopened, through a private channel. I observe what you say to me of the steps you are taking to bring about my exchange. Several Englishmen whom I know have lately effected theirs; and to my great joy (though I shall deeply feel the loss of his society and protecting influence) the Admiral every day expects an order to arrive from the maritime agent at Brest, for his liberation. A Captain Courand, who, on the 1st of June, commanded Le Sans Pareil, of 84 guns, is to be exchanged for him, and is now in France, pressing the committee of public safety to ratify the agreement, and forward the necessary passport. You must observe, that Admiral Bligh is exchanged for a Captain, because at the time of our sailing from England, in September last, he bore only that rank, in which capacity he commanded the Alexander, and consequently as such only could be exchanged. Innumerable are the obstacles which I foresee to prevent my accompanying him, when his passport shall arrive; but, as I am on very good terms with the commissary, I shall at least endeavour to obtain leave to go to Brest, in order to solicit permission from the representatives there to pass over into England, for the purpose of procuring a French officer of my rank to be returned in exchange for me. If success attend my petition (of which I am not in utter despair, as it will be backed by the interest of the Admiral) I shall be the bearer of my own letter; and if I miscarry, he will convey to you this sequel of the adventures and observations of your friend.
Deprived as you are in England of all communication with this country, except through the circuitous route of Switzerland and Germany, I often hear you ask me, What are the present politics and sentiments of the French? A man at the distance of five hundred miles from the metropolis can poorly answer such a question; but if you will be contented with a description of what the politics and sentiments of the people of Quimper and its neighbourhood are, according to the best information which I can procure; and accept of a string of opinions, derived from conversing with strangers, and from reading news-papers and fresh publications, as a solution of your enquiry, behold me ready to contribute to the extent of my ability to your gratification.
Here the friends of royalty, federalism, and an undivided commonwealth, struggle against each other with reciprocal vibrations. Federalism is, however, on the decline, and its supporters, attached as they are to the local prejudices which they contend for a continuation of, perceive the impossibility of carrying their point, and are fast melting into the two other great masses. Royalism, though bent to the earth, is not crushed. Its partizans are still numerous, and its hopes sanguine, too sanguine, I fear, for accomplishment. My political principles are, you see, unchanged since we parted; and I still think a limited monarchy the best of governments. Had I been born a Frenchman, I should have struggled as hard for the revolution of 1789, as I should have resisted with all my might that of 1792. Much as I hate despotism, I am scarcely less a foe to democracy; a sentiment which accords pretty well with those of my royal friends here. Since I have resided among the French, I have met with only one person, a lady (whose husband had once a place in the household, and has emigrated) who has expressed to me a wish to see the old system restored. She, poor woman, cannot separate the splendour of a court, and the unlimited power of a king, from the prosperity and happiness of the people, always describing the latter as a direct and necessary consequence of the former. I am surprized to find that the royalists prefer Count d’Artois to his brother, Monsieur. They call the Count a bold and decided character, although they do not spare his former profligate dissipation. To the little Louis, “le monarque au berceau” as they call him, they look rather with regret than expectancy, not unmingled with apprehension, lest violence or treachery should be used against him; but this fear I think groundless, because his preservation will best serve the interest of those whom he is among. I am assured that his morals are corrupted, and his health destroyed.—Unhappy infant! what a lesson on the instability of human grandeur does he furnish!