CHAPTER 5

Prisoners of Honour

On the morning of Saturday 15 July 1815, Napoleon Bonaparte surrendered to the captain of HMS Bellerophon, thus becoming the most famous prisoner of war of the Napoleonic era, if not of all time. His gamble to regain power had met its end on the muddy slopes of Waterloo.

There were many soldiers who followed the great man through the mud of that final conflict including Francois Guidon, a lieutenant in the 46eme de Ligne, part of the Corps d’Armée of General D’Erlon. It is not recorded at what stage of the battle this officer was taken prisoner, but General Picton’s Division and the British Heavy Cavalry escorted a large number of captives to the rear of the allied line after the repulse of D’Erlon’s force. Guidon was brought to England and sent on parole to Ashburton, Devon. He is still there, for he died on 18 July 1815 aged 22 years, and was buried in the churchyard. Later in the nineteenth century a willow tree was planted over the grave, reputedly grown from a cutting taken from the tree growing over Napoleon’s grave on St. Helena.¹

There are many such graves around Britain, the last resting places of officers captured in the battles of the period. Many other officers on returning to France left behind some memento to remind the local inhabitants of their temporary presence.

On 19 April 1812 Wellington’s army successfully stormed the citadel of Badajoz in Spain. The bloody assault and subsequent orgy of plunder and rape by the British troops did not prevent the capture of many of the French garrison, who entered captivity with souvenirs of their stay in the citadel. In the Lady Chapel of St. Mary’s Church in Launceston, Cornwall, there hangs a wooden crucifix looted from a church in Badajoz by a French officer. This soldier was billeted upon Abraham Shepherd, a hat maker in the town, to whom the crucifix was given as a mark of appreciation for his hospitality. The relic passed down through the Shepherd family until it was presented to the church.²

These are just two stories linking French prisoners of war with British towns and villages. However, many such places have some reminder of this aspect of the prisoner of war story.

While the majority of prisoners remained incarcerated in hulks or Land Prisons, those captives of a certain rank and above were offered their parole. They were required to give their word of honour in writing not to attempt to escape, and to abide by certain regulations, if allowed to reside in one of the towns or villages designated as parole depots. The ‘word of a gentleman’ was a solemn bond, not to be given lightly, and overall the system worked well, with both British and French officers keeping their word. As the wars dragged on and many officers on both sides of the Channel could see no end to their confinement, breaches of parole became more frequent, although involving a relatively small proportion of the total number of officers residing in parole depots.

These depots were places where the inhabitants were happy to have enemy officers billeted upon them; where there was ample accommodation available for the purpose; and where the local squire or magistrate (often the same person) would agree to oversee the security of the prisoners. The local populace very rarely raised any objection as an influx of parole prisoners brought welcome business to the area. The local magistrate would have to work closely with the appointed Agent, and often the former was an officer in the local Yeomanry, and so could quickly call upon troops in the event of a disturbance.

A town could be designated a parole depot after a request for such recognition was sent to the Transport Board. If the influx of prisoners into the country warranted an increase in the prison establishment, a Commissioner would be sent to view a prospective site for such a depot. The Board, prior to any decision being made, would discuss his opinions and those of the inhabitants. Commissioner Ambrose Searle, writing in 1807, recommended that parole depots should not be too near each other as French prisoners had been known to send clandestine correspondence from town to town via travelling civilians.³

Many towns and villages throughout Britain were used as depots. One of the misconceptions relating to the subject of prisoners of war on parole has been the notion that a town designated as a parole depot remained so throughout the long period of the wars. Not all those used during the Revolutionary Wars were used again after 1803, and indeed the Napoleonic period saw the greater use of such depots. During the 1790s an officer could expect to be exchanged rapidly, usually after no more than a year in captivity. Hence there was no requirement for a large number of parole depots. Exchange was not so frequent after 1803 for French officers, and so the parole prisoner population increased, requiring a larger number of depots. Scotland had a number of towns designated as depots, especially after 1810 when more captives were moved to the north of the country.

Parole Depots

Depot	Period of Use	Nationality
England
Alresford	1795–97	French
	1809–12	French
Andover	1810–11	French, Russian
Ashbourne	1803–12	French
Ashburton	1794–98	French
	1815	French
Ashby-de-la-Zouch	1804–11	French
Ashford, Kent	1794–98	French, Dutch, Spanish
Beccles	1795–98	French
Bishops Castle	1811–12	French
Bishops Waltham	1803–11	French, Spanish
Bodmin	1794–98	French
Bridgenorth	1812–14	French
Callington	1795–1800	French
Chatham	1811–14	French
Chesterfield	1803–11	French
Chippenham	1795-98	French
Crediton	1805–11	French
Dartmouth	1796–98	French
	1813–15	American
Falmouth	1793–97	French, Spanish
Hambledon	1796–1801	Dutch, Spanish
Launceston	1805–12	French, Prussian
Leek	1803–12	French
Lichfield	1795–1800	French
	1803–11	French
Moreton-Hampstead	1807–14	French
Northampton	1809–12	French
North Tawton	1809–11	French
Odiham	1803–15	French, American
Okehampton	1809–11	French
	1815
Peebles	1795–1800	French
Peterborough	1797–1800	Dutch
Petersfield	1795–97	French
Reading	1805–12	French, Danish
South Molton	1803–05	French
Tavistock, Devon	1794–98	French
Tenterden	1803–11
Tiverton	1794–98	French
	1803–11	French
Thame	1804–14	French
Wantage	1808–10	French
Weymouth	1796–97	French
Wincanton	1805–11	French
Wales
Abergavenny	1812–14	French
Brecon	1806–12	French
Llanfyllin	1812–13	French
Montgomery	1805–11	French
Newtown	1812–14	French
Oswestry	1809–12	French
Welshpool	1811–12	French
Scotland
Biggar	1811–14	French
Cupar	1811	French
Edinburgh	1795–1800	French
Dumfries	1815	French
Forfar	1796–1801	French
Greenlaw	1812	French
Hawick	1812–14	French
Jedburgh	1812–14	French
Kelso	1810–12	French
Lanark	1812–14	French
Lauder	1811–13	French
Lockerbie	1815	French
Lochmaben	1815	French
Melrose	1812–14	French
Ormskirk	1796–98	French
Peebles	1795–1800	French
	1803–11	French
Sanquhar	1812	French
Selkirk	1811–14	French
Ireland
Cork	1795–98	French
Dunmanway	1795–98	French
Kinsale	1793–98	French4

 

A parole depot would see many hundreds of officers during its period as a place of confinement, but usually there were no more than 120 to 130 at any one time. Between 1803 and 1811 Tiverton was home to 667 prisoners, while Thame saw 422 ‘foreign gentlemen’ during the period 1803–14.⁵ It was also the practice to keep batches of officer prisoners together, as this made it administratively easier to deal with these men, many of who were of the same ship or regiment. The town of Alresford received a number of officers and their wives in the summer of 1810, all of whom were captured on the island of Guadeloupe earlier that year.⁶

Those prisoners granted parole were commissioned officers of the rank of sous-lieutenant in the army and gardes-marine in the navy and above. Civilians captured while performing political duties were also paroled, as were captains and second officers of merchantmen over 50 tons, and captains and the next two officers of privateers carrying 100 men and armed with 14 four-pounder guns and over.⁷ Many of these men were allowed to take their servants with them provided they took responsibility for their behaviour. Allowing a common soldier or seaman the liberty of a parole depot was a privilege that the Board would rapidly withdraw if it were abused. Captain Recar, on parole at Wantage, lost one servant but was allowed another. The Board contacted the Agent at Portsmouth informing him that; ‘Marc Rideau, servant to Captain Recar … has been ordered, in consequence of his improper conduct, to be sent into your custody’. Before Recar was allowed another servant, the Board required information on a possible substitute; they wrote; ‘You will report to us the case of Jean Baptiste Bellette … for whom Captain Recar has applied to have as a servant in the room of the former’.⁸

If an officer was granted parole, he signed an undertaking to abide by the parole regulations and not attempt to escape. He was issued with a passport to his town of residence, with instructions to travel to the town upon a certain date and by a specific route, with the journey being made at his own expense. On arrival at the depot he reported to the Agent.

Certificate issued to Parole Prisoners

No…..By the Commissioners for conducting His Majesty’s Transport Service, for the care of Sick and Wounded Seamen, and for the Care and Custody of Prisoners of War.

These are to certify, to all His Majesty’s Officers, Civil and Military, and whom else it may concern, that the Bearer………………………………… as described on the back hereof, is a detained Prisoner of War, on Parole at …………………………… and that he has liberty to walk on the Great Turnpike Road, within the distance of one mile from the extremities of the town; but that he must not go into any field or cross-road, nor be absent from his lodgings after five o’clock in the afternoon, during the months of November, December, and January; and after seven o’clock in the months of February, March, April, September, and October; or after eight o’clock in the months of May, June, and July; nor quit his lodgings in the morning until the bell rings at six o’clock; wherefore You, and every of You, are hereby desired and required to suffer him the said ………………………………. to pass and repass accordingly, without any hindrance or molestation whatever, he keeping himself within the said limits, and behaving according to the law.

Given under our Hands and Seal of Office

at London, this …….. Day of ……. 181..⁹

Upon signing his parole certificate, the prisoner agreed to obey the laws of the country; not to carry on any clandestine correspondence; nor to violate the parole regulations. These regulations restricted the prisoner to remaining within one mile of the town limits along the turnpike roads. The help of the locals was enlisted to observe this rule, in that notices were posted around the depot stating that prisoners were permitted to walk or ride on the turnpike road within the prescribed mile, but that exceeding the limit or going into a field rendered them liable to arrest, the taker receiving a reward of 10 shillings.

To mark the limits of their parole, milestones were erected around the depot (when they did not already exist), and where these coincided with some natural feature such as a tree, the object became an additional mark of the limits. In Hampshire on the Odiham-Winchfield Road there stands an old oak tree next to the milestone, and this is known locally as ‘Frenchman’s Oak’. There is also a similar tree at Whitchurch, one mile from Tavistock, known as the ‘Honour Oak’. At Ashbourne in Derbyshire, a line of white posts extends along the Derby Road and is known as ‘Frenchman’s Mile’. A local legend in Ashburton has it that a milestone was sited on the Broadhampston road just before a sharp bend. The officers on parole in the town heard that there was an impressive view just around the bend, outside their parole limits. One day they stealthily carried the stone around the corner so they would not break their parole when admiring the Devon countryside. There the stone has remained. An apocryphal story perhaps, but one in keeping with the prisoners’ character and attitude!¹⁰

Many local people welcomed parole prisoners into their homes as it generated useful income via charges for food and lodgings. Several houses in a depot would be used as billets for the prisoners. Odiham, a little village in Hampshire, had more than thirty cottages occupied by French and American officers, a significant proportion of the accommodation available. Two houses in the High Street possess a legacy of their early nineteenth century occupants in the form of names – ‘Frenchman’s’ and ‘Frenchman’s Cottage’. If a road was known locally for its foreign prisoner population, then its name would often change to reflect this fact. One road in Petersfield was used for French officers during the Revolutionary War, and became known locally as ‘Frenchman’s Lane’, later in the nineteenth century becoming known as ‘Frenchman’s Road’ by which name it is known today.¹¹

The number of officers billeted in houses depended upon the rooms available. In Reading, Mr Joseph Restall of London Street had as paying guests a M. le Nesle and one Marc Claro. Mr Bowdens of East Street had four officers in his house, while Mr Cox of the Feathers Inn supplied accommodation for six French gentlemen.¹² All parole prisoners had to remain in their lodgings between set times throughout the year. If they violated this curfew they were liable to arrest and punishment. The Agent was instructed to employ someone to ring a bell at the prescribed times to warn the prisoners to be back in their lodgings.¹³

The officers were given an allowance of 1s 6d per day, while civilians on parole received 1s 0d, and from this they had to pay for their lodgings, food and clothing. The Agent paid this money in advance twice a week, and personal attendance was necessary to collect it, except in the case of serious illness. Those officers with private means could have money sent from home via the French Agent in London, but those without such extra finances often found it hard to subsist. A constant complaint from the parole prisoners was the high rent they were often charged. Lodgings cost from between three and five shillings per week for the room alone, a large proportion of the weekly allowance of 10s 6d. Many officers petitioned the Transport Board for an increase in their allowance. This happened with some Russian officers on parole at Andover in October 1809, who were informed that their existing allowance was the same as that given to the French, and so no special increase could be awarded to them.¹⁴

The financial hardship experienced by parole prisoners was greater if they had their wives and children with them. Until 1810 the Transport Board did not regard these dependants as prisoners of war and declared that they were free to return home whenever they wished. If they elected to remain with their menfolk that was their concern, but no extra allowance would be given to them. By 1810 the system for exchanging French prisoners of war had all but collapsed, and this had the added effect of hindering the remittance of money from France. Many prisoners were now suffering real poverty, especially those with family. The Board therefore granted a payment of one shilling per day to each woman and child over 12 months, except for English women who married parole prisoners and any resultant children. While this eased the prisoners’ situation, many still insisted that the allowance was too meagre.

Some prisoners raised extra funds by giving lessons to the locals in dancing, swordplay and languages. These activities increased the chances of romantic liaisons occurring, often resulting in marriages and births. The parish register of Launceston in Cornwall records eleven marriages of French officers with English women. The records for Odiham record that Adelaide was born to Anne Webb and her lover, Henri Barré de St. Lau in 1805, while Jean Marie Pasquire married Sophie Brookes in 1811.¹⁵ Many officers found their financial situation in serious trouble from these affairs of the heart.

Those officers with wives back home in France were able to arrange for their partners to join them in the parole depots, at their own expense. As was only natural, these families had in common their language, nationality and enforced captivity that linked them together in close-knit communities. While the social life of the English community was open to them, they also organised their own social functions, often to celebrate an Imperial event or personal anniversary.

The authorities frowned upon the celebration of Imperial events, although the French on parole often organised these functions under the guise of personal commemorations. The Board obtained news of a forthcoming function and wrote to John Dunn, the Agent at Alresford, enjoining him to forbid the prisoners to assemble at the Swan Inn to celebrate the marriage of Napoleon to Marie-Louise of Austria in April 1810.

An intercepted letter of 1812 (intercepted because it was sent without permission), signed by ‘Henrietta’, who was apparently the daughter of one of the parole prisoners, contains many items of personal news and outright gossip about the French families at Alresford. She appears to have been thoroughly enjoying life, with social events among English and French friends and a description of the arrangements for a ball that her parents were giving to celebrate their Silver Wedding anniversary.¹⁶

At the wars’ end, many of the English wives of French officers followed their loved ones home even though the British Government warned that they would have no rights in France. Some decided that England was more of an attraction than their husbands, and chose to remain while their partners returned home.

Charles Aubertin was a French officer paroled to Andover where he developed an infatuation for a seventeen-year-old girl by the name of Harriet Sedgley. This young lady persuaded him to stay in the town after peace was declared in 1814, and the following January they were married. They lived in Andover until 1817 when Charles, homesick for his native land, returned to France having unsuccessfully attempted to persuade her to return with him. They maintained a regular correspondence and Charles sent her remittances until 1820, when he returned to his wife and again tried to persuade her to go to France. These efforts were also fruitless, whereupon he left Andover and was never heard of again. Harriet set up a loom for silk weaving and died in 1829 at the comparatively early age of 31.¹⁷

While the constriction of their parole regulations was of major concern to the prisoners, probably the greatest test was accepting a relatively small area in which to live that invariably became of little interest after a while, and of being accepted by the local inhabitants who after all, were at war with them. Many of these prisoners accepted their lot and waited until they were either exchanged or the war ended. Some officers attempted escape, and their stories will be related in a later chapter. Those who accepted their fate made the best of their situation and led lives of ‘comparative gaiety’, as one eyewitness recalled at Ashburton. Another inhabitant of that town related that the French officers there were ‘very nice and gentlemanly and taught French and dancing’.¹⁸ Most parole prisoners occupied their time by walking, riding, fishing and gambling. Some made bone and wood models to sell to the local inhabitants, and many parole depots had thriving Masonic Lodges formed by the prisoners.

Prisoners violating the regulations were liable to arrest, and the reward offered to civilians if they assisted in such an arrest ensured that watchful eyes were about. Many civilians encouraged parole violations so they could claim the reward. Agents often warned prisoners not to exceed the one-mile limit and to stay on the main roads, and some Agents benevolently overlooked minor trespasses. However, these often led to complaints from the public or assaults on the prisoners by bounty hunters. Messengers sent in pursuit by the Agent searched for any prisoners at Thame who were not in their lodgings by the proper hour, and the runner who caught them was rewarded with one shilling. One David Edwards earned regular pocket money in this way by good-naturedly reminding the Frenchmen of their parole obligations.¹⁹

While prisoners were arrested for violating their parole, the Transport Board was very firm in dealing with locals who abused the captives. One such incident concerned a French officer residing at Montgomery.

At the last Quarter Sessions for Montgomery a farmer of the neighbourhood of Montgomery was prosecuted by order of the Commissioners of the Transport Board for assaulting one of the French prisoners of war on parole in that town, and pleading guilty to the indictment was fined £10, and ordered to find sureties for keeping the peace for 12 months. This is the second prosecution which that Board has ordered: it being determined that the prisoners shall be protected by Government from insult while they remain in their unfortunate situation as prisoners of war.²⁰

Mr Jones, the Agent at Bishops Waltham in 1796, informed the Board of an incident concerning William Nash, the constable. One of the prisoners had thrown a stone at Nash, striking him on the leg. Obviously Nash deserved this treatment, for Jones observed that Nash was very troublesome to the French prisoners as he made a point of arresting any officer he found on the streets only a few minutes after the curfew hour. Nash received a severe reprimand from the Board via the local magistrate.²¹ The Comte de Gramont claimed that on occasion he was hissed and spat at as he walked the streets of Ashburton, a result of the hooligan element present in any town. Local boys pelted prisoners with dirt and mocked their appearance and language. Occasionally adults attacked them, jeering French defeats and celebrating British victories. News of the British victory of Vittoria in June 1813 arrived in Oswestry late one evening, the cheers of the inhabitants brought out some French officers playing billiards, and a brawl occurred. The locals later dressed a dummy as Napoleon, paraded it through the town on a donkey, and then hanged and burnt it under the window of General Vielande, taken prisoner at Badajoz.²²

Ambrose Searle visited Thame in September 1807 and found the principal officers to be content but noted that:

some of the inferior officers complained of the insults to which they were exposed from the lower orders of the people, though it did not seem that they could fix upon any individual.

Searle asked the Postmaster, Surgeon and some of the prominent inhabitants of the town if the prisoners were abiding by the regulations. These people all confirmed that the prisoners were quiet and orderly.²³

When Searle visited the town in July of the following year he discovered that a Mr Wykham had been employed by the Agent to patrol the one-mile limit and report any trespass of prisoners. This he considered to be unfair and unnecessary, and prompted him to enquire of ‘seven respectable persons’ about the Agent and his employees, and their relationship with the parole prisoners. He also recommended that clearer marks be made at the one-mile limit from the extremities of the town, so that there could be no confusion amongst the prisoners as to the extent of their parole. He noted that most officers there were well behaved, and the few escapes had been effected by prisoners who were ‘chiefly of the lower orders’.²⁴

The local gentry often entertained officers on parole and while deploring any verbal or physical abuse suffered by these foreign gentlemen, could often be equally insensitive. The Marquis d’Hautpol, on parole at Bridgnorth, received an invitation to dine at the home of Lord Malville. On this occasion there were many English officers present who, without regard for his position, began to express (in French) their very negative views of Napoleon and the French Army. D’Hautpol was a 24-year-old captain in the 59th Regiment de Ligne, captured at Salamanca in July 1812, and at the time was still suffering from a bayonet wound in the right arm and a musket ball in the leg. He indignantly demanded permission to withdraw from the table and the house, and accepted no further invitations there.²⁵

Some parole officers elicited sympathy and respect from all levels of the society upon which they were thrust. Admiral Villeneuve was described as ‘a most melancholy gentleman’ when he briefly resided at Bishops Waltham, Hampshire; the locals looking upon the unfortunate victim of Trafalgar with both pity and respect. In the aftermath of Britain’s greatest naval victory and the loss of the much-loved Nelson, perhaps the inhabitants of the village felt they could be magnanimous. He was on parole there for a few weeks alongside other senior officers of the French navy taken in that engagement; Captain Majendie of the Bucentaure (Villeneuve’s flagship), Captain Lucas of the Redoutable (from which the musket shot was fired that killed Admiral Nelson) and Captain Infernet of the Intrépide. Villeneuve was bound by the parole regulations except that he had his limits extended to three miles outside the town. Officers had to lodge their swords with the Agent until released, but the French Admiral was allowed to retain, but not to wear, his arms. He requested that he might be allowed to reside in London with his twenty-year old mulatto servant, Jean Baque, but this request was denied. Instead, he was allowed to choose any parole town for his residence, his choice being Reading, arriving there on 30 December 1805 along with the officers named above. In January 1806 he and Majendie attended Nelson’s funeral at St Paul’s Cathedral. While Villeneuve was willing to show respect for his dead adversary in this way, it cannot have been a comfortable situation for him to see the British display a universal grief for their fallen hero. He had lost a fleet and failed Napoleon, who was not likely to be sympathetic towards his naval commander. In March of that year Villeneuve was exchanged for four British Post-Captains and returned to France, where his Emperor refused him permission to travel to Paris, and so he stayed in Rennes where one day he was found stabbed. It is thought he took his own life, although some suspected that he was murdered on the orders of Napoleon; the price for his failure to destroy the British fleet. However, given the situation he found himself in and his demeanour whilst a prisoner, it would not be surprising if he had resorted to suicide.²⁶

Admiral Jan Willem de Winter, commanding the Dutch fleet at the Battle of Camperdown in October 1797, was captured on board his flagship the Vrijheid and sent to England on parole. He was impressed with his treatment, and did not seem to display the melancholy and despair that his French counterpart later adopted. On his release from his parole obligations in December 1798 (although he had returned to Holland in November 1797), de Winter stated in a public address in Amsterdam:

The fortune of war previously forced me to live abroad, and being since then for the first time vanquished by the enemy, I have experienced a second state of exile. However mortifying to the feelings of a man who loves his country, the satisfactory treatment I met with on the part of the enemy, the English, and the humane and faithful support and assistance they evinced towards my worthy countrymen and fellow sufferers, have considerably softened the horrors of my situation … the noble liberality of the English nation since this bloody contest justly entitles them to your admiration.²⁷

Admiral de Winter’s flagship became a prison hulk moored at Chatham. This fact obviously did not affect his opinion of the English people!

While the most senior officers usually commanded respect from amongst their enemies, certain categories of officer did not. Perhaps their actions did not endear themselves to the local authorities, or an ingrained prejudice in English society had something to do with it. When some black prisoners arrived from the West Indies in 1796, to reside in Portchester Castle, Portsmouth’s Governor Sir William Pitt did not allow the black officers their parole. He wrote to the War Office to justify his decision:

The Blacks, who were called the officers, many of which were violent in their behaviour and savage in their disposition, and doubtless many of them had been placed in that situation from having been conspicuously eminent in acts of rebellion and barbarity.

Sir William thought these people very improper persons to be turned loose in any country:

… but particularly so in this neighbourhood, where principles subversive to the Government have already been disseminated by the French on parole, which officers possess less dishonourable principles than the prisoners of colour. The greatest care should be taken to watch over the conduct of these prisoners, for though they are considered as officers by the present French constitution, it is impossible to look upon them as gentlemen, many of them have risen to high officer from the meanest extraction, void of education and principles, consequently very little respect can be paid to their assertions [to be allowed parole as officers].²⁸

Occasionally some parole prisoners would render a service to the local inhabitants that would invariably be brought to the attention of the Board. This service was often looked upon favourably for the purpose of exchange.

Joseph Maudet, on parole at Oswestry, rescued a four-year-old child from the jaws of a lion. His mother had taken the child to see Gillman and Atkins Menagerie of Wild Beasts in March 1814. The child incautiously approached too near a cage in which two lions were confined and was dragged against the bars by one of the beasts. Maudet ‘rushed forward, extricated the child by main force from the animal’s grasp and happily restored him to the arms of his mother’. A local petition to the Transport Board stated that ‘the action speaks for itself and requires no comment’ and was signed by the Mayor of Oswestry, his deputy, the coroner, town clerk, the vicar and rectors of three neighbouring parishes. They urged the Board to release Maudet and this request was readily granted.²⁹

While some prisoners were well behaved and respected especially if they contributed to the community, others were a positive nuisance. In 1814 American prisoners at Reading were so unruly and troublesome that the authorities were forced to remove them to Dartmoor. Occasionally parole prisoners would cause a serious disturbance that warranted prompt local action. One such case concerned Generals Rochambeau and Boyé at Wincanton. The official report, penned by Ambrose Searle, describes the affair in detail and is reproduced here in its entirety:

General Rochambeau, with about six or seven French officers taking with them several dogs, left Wincanton to the distance of between four and five miles, and came upon the lands of a farmer, who knowing them to be prisoners of war and far out of bounds, warned them off, threatening to have them seized if they did not immediately retire. Possibly no great delicacy of language was used by such a person on the occasion; but, however, the General and his party were so much irritated that they fell upon the man and treated him roughly. Some haymakers at a distance, observing the contest, hastened to the farmer’s assistance, attacked the Frenchmen, and beat them, especially Rochambeau himself, very severely. Upon their return to the town, they exasperated their countrymen in their behalf to such a degree, that they threatened vengeance, procured clubs and such sort of weapons as they could find, declared they would burn the town, and seemed determined upon the utmost measures of revenge. They were headed by Rochambeau and Boyé, with some few others of the most violent among them. The Agent, who is a captain in the Volunteer Corps of the district, exceedingly alarmed at these proceedings, found himself obliged, after some unavailing endeavours to pacify the uproar, to call out his men for the public safety, and to make known his situation to the Board. The neighbouring Gentlemen and principal inhabitants at last succeeded in stilling the outrage, but not in quieting the apprehension of the inhabitants, till, upon the representations made to the Board, the two Generals above named and nearly twenty others were separately removed to other depots.

Searle later visited the area to see how these particular prisoners were faring. He wrote:

The town has since been, and is now, perfectly quiet and easy. The prisoners too, finding that they must submit to the inconvenience of removal in case of disturbance, and their passionate demonstrations of joy upon Bonaparte’s successes having subsided, which appear to have had some influence upon the insolence of their conduct on the occasion, are now orderly and decent as before. The removal of the ringleaders was really necessary, and led to the desirable effect.

General Rochambeau was transferred to Moreton Hampstead where he caused no trouble, whilst Boyé was sent to Crediton where he ‘conducted himself with propriety’.³⁰

While many prisoners on parole rendered some service to the community in which they were temporary residents, and earned the approbation of their English neighbours, many such captives were willing to express their gratitude for kindnesses bestowed upon them. In 1814 there were a number of Norwegians on parole in Reading. Norway had been ruled by Denmark until the Treaty of Kiel on 14 January 1814, when the country had been ceded to Sweden. Denmark had supported Napoleon, while Sweden had been persuaded (with the offer of Norway) to enter the coalition against France. The Norwegian people had rebelled and formed their own government, whereupon Swedish forces invaded the country, supported by a blockade of Norwegian ports by ships of the Royal Navy.³¹

The Member of Parliament for Reading, Mr J.B. Monck, made a public speech against the British Government’s attitude towards Norway, expressing his view that ‘if the blockade of that country was persisted in, it would be petitioned against by every county and every town in England’. The Norwegians in Reading sent him a letter full of praise and thanks for his support of their people, and for his concern for their welfare. They informed him that liberty had been offered to all Norwegians in the prison depots (approximately 800, both on parole and in the hulks) if they would acknowledge the sovereignty of Sweden, which they unanimously refused to do.³²

There is much to remind us of the sojourn of foreign prisoners of war in the towns and villages of Great Britain. The names given to houses and roads are all part of the local history of such areas, but it is the graves of the prisoners that remain a permanent reminder of their story. Many Local History Societies take pride in the fact that they have a French prisoner buried in their churchyard, and ensure that the grave is well kept, not only as part of their local heritage, but also out of respect for such unfortunate men and women who remained here long after the war with France was over.

Alresford, in Hampshire, was home to 375 parole prisoners between 1809 and 1812. They were taken prisoner on board privateers, gunboats, and frigates; on Guadeloupe, Sicily, Naples, and in Spain and Portugal. Pierre Garnier was a second lieutenant in the 66éme de Ligne, captured on Guadeloupe in February 1810. He arrived at Alresford (via Portchester Castle) on 19 June in the company of 54 other officers from the island, one judge and his secretary, 13 wives and children, and 13 servants (some black). He became ill the following April and died there on 31 July 1811, and was buried in the churchyard where his gravestone may be seen. His exact cause of death is not recorded in the Admiralty records (he has the annotation ‘DD’ entered by his name, signifying that he was ‘discharged dead’), but it is possible he succumbed to ill health acquired while stationed in the West Indies. Also at Alresford can be seen the gravestone of Marie Louise Fournier, wife of Captain Francois Bertet, both of whom were part of the French garrison on Guadeloupe. Other graves in this town belong to Cypryen Lavau, a privateer officer, and Joseph Hypolite Riouffe, a frigate officer.³³

Two French officers are buried at Odiham, Hampshire. Pierre Feron was a captain in the 66éme de Ligne taken prisoner on Guadeloupe alongside Pierre Garnier. He arrived on parole on 7 April 1810, and died exactly one month later. His grave is next to that of M. Jouneau, a naval officer captured in August 1805, and who died in September 1809.³⁴ When a parole prisoner died his effects were sent to the Agent’s office, either to be sold to pay any debts incurred by the deceased, or to be eventually sent to his family on the Continent. In the case of Jouneau, his effects were sent to his brother who was residing on parole at Launceston. When the Agent at Odiham, Mr Charles Shebbeare, asked who was to pay Jouneau’s funeral expenses of two guineas, he was instructed to send the bill to Launceston as well! The regulations stated that the funeral should cost no more than two guineas unless the other prisoners wished to contribute. In this case the Board took the opportunity to reclaim some of the costs of running a parole depot.³⁵

Many other gravestones remain to remind us of the parole prisoners. At Moreton Hampstead one Ambroise Quantain, a French artillery lieutenant, died and was buried in the graveyard. His headstone has since been transferred to the wall of the church entrance, but is particularly interesting in that it has the Masonic device carved on the stone. Not all prisoner-graves are still marked by gravestones. Some headstones have been removed over the years, if indeed they existed at all, to make room for those of the local populace, while others have been eroded by the elements and are thus difficult to locate. Joseph Delette was a civilian passenger in Le Furet merchant vessel, captured in June 1809. He was taken with his wife and sent on parole to Okehampton, and on 19 April 1812 his wife died in childbirth and was buried alongside the dead infant.³⁶ Their graves still exist, and it is only local knowledge that directs the visitor to two small and badly eroded headstones beside the church. Little of the inscriptions can be discerned on these particular monuments.

Disease and ill health took their toll of the prisoners on parole, but some died of old age. General of Brigade Charles de Preiux, captured in Spain in August 1812, was ‘discharged dead’ on 29 May 1813. The records give us a description of a 74-year-old man, of slender build, with grey hair and grey eyes who ended his military career in England.³⁷

Many thousands of enemy officers and civilians resided on parole in the depots of Britain. However, it was also the practice to allow some captives to go back to their country of origin on parole, as long as they signed an agreement not to serve against Britain until they had been ‘fairly and regularly exchanged’. This method was frequently adopted during the Revolutionary Wars, when Exchange Cartels were often organised between Britain and France, Spain and Holland. The officer concerned signed an official document:

Form of the Engagement subscribed by all Prisoners of War,

permitted to return to France, On Parole.

Whereas the Commissioners for conducting His Britannic Majesty’s Transport Service, and for the care and custody of prisoners of war, have been pleased to grant me, the undersigned [prisoner’s name] as described on the back hereof, late [his rank; regiment or ship] and now a prisoner of war at [his Parole depot], leave to return to France, upon my entering into an engagement not to serve against Great Britain, or any of the Powers in alliance with that Kingdom, until I shall be regularly exchanged for a British prisoner of war, of equal rank; and upon my also engaging, that immediately after my arrival in France, I shall make known the place of my residence there, to the British Agent for Prisoners in Paris, and shall not change the same on any account, without first intimating my intention to the said Agent; and moreover, that at the expiration of every two months, until my exchange shall be effected, I shall regularly and punctually transmit to the said Agent a certificate of my residence, signed by the magistrates or Municipal Officers of the place.

Now in consideration of my enlargement, I do hereby declare that I have given my Parole of Honour accordingly, and that I will keep it inviolably.

Given under my hand at [his place of residence as a prisoner] this day of [date].³⁸

Comprehensive lists were compiled by the Transport Office giving full descriptions of all officers who had given their parole and been permitted to return to their own country. These lists were updated every three months, and a reward of one guinea was paid to anyone who discovered a named prisoner serving without having been exchanged. Separate lists were published for French, Spanish and Dutch prisoners who had given this undertaking. These nations also adopted this approach with British officers, and the system worked well during the 1790s but after 1803 the system was not employed so extensively.

This method of parole had distinct advantages over the procedure for keeping the officer on parole in Britain. First, the Admiralty did not have the expense of looking after the officer, and second, it speeded up the exchange process. Officers sent home could apply to their own governments for an enemy officer to be released in exchange for themselves, thus releasing that officer from their parole obligations. The more superior an officer sent home on parole, the more likely it was they had some influence in government circles, or had connections with senior military officials. Admiral de Winter was sent home to Holland in November 1797, having spent only a month on parole in England. He was able to use his influence to secure his release the following year.³⁹ Jacques Durvial was an officer on parole in France, being released from his parole obligations in 1799, in exchange for Major Matthew Jenner of the 39th Foot who had arrived as a prisoner in France that year.⁴⁰ When an officer was taken captive by someone who had a friend or relative held prisoner of war, it was common practice for the officer to be released on parole on the promise he would use his influence to secure the release of his counterpart. Provided the details of the transaction were sent to the Transport Office, there was no objection to this procedure, and in fact it was actively encouraged. To break the parole obligations was a slur on a man’s honour, so any officer who could not secure the release of a prisoner held by his own side was obliged to return to his captor’s country to reside there on parole until he was exchanged.

However, most officers taken prisoner had to endure periods of captivity, though not perhaps as arduous as their men, in the parole depots of Britain.

Notes

¹   Pilkington, Francis. Ashburton: The Dartmoor Town (Devon, 1981) p.43

²   Rendle, Joan. Gateway to Cornwall (Bodmin 1981), p.88.

³   TNA:PRO ADM105/44, Commissioner’s Report 2 October 1807.

⁴   TNA:PRO ADM103 passim. General Entry Books for Parole Depots.

⁵   TNA:PRO ADM103/572, 601, 606, 607, 608. General Entry Books for Parole Depots.

⁶   TNA:PRO ADM103/552, General Entry Book of French prisoners on parole at Alresford.

⁷   TNA:PRO ADM98/200. Letters relating to prisoners of war on parole 1809.

⁸   TNA:PRO ADM98/261, 9 January 1810.

⁹   TNA:PRO ADM105/62.

¹⁰   Pilkington, p.74.

¹¹   ‘Petersfield Place Names’ in Petersfield Papers No.1, Petersfield Area Historical Society, 1976.

¹²   TNA:PRO ADM103/598. General Entry Book of French prisoners of war on parole at Reading.

¹³   TNA:PRO ADM105/93. Instructions to Agents for prisoners of war on parole, 14 September 1808.

¹⁴   TNA:PRO ADM98/200, 10 October 1809.

¹⁵   Parish Records of Odiham, Hampshire 1800–1811.

¹⁶   TNA:PRO ADM105/61.

¹⁷   The Andover Advertiser, 21 June 1918.

¹⁸   Pilkington, p.74.

¹⁹   Brown, J. Howard & Guest, W. A History of Thame (Thame, 1935), p.171–172.

²⁰   Chapman, Murray. Napoleonic Prisoners of War in Llanfyllin.

²¹   TNA:PRO ADM99/96. Board Minutes 31 August 1796.

²²   Crimmin, P.K. ‘French prisoners of war on parole 1793–1815: the Welsh border towns’. Paper delivered at Guerres et Paix 1660–1815 (Rochefort 1986) p.68.

²³   TNA:PRO ADM105/44. 12 September 1807.

²⁴   ibid. 26 July 1808.

²⁵   de Goutel, E.Hennet. Mémoires du Général Marquis Alphonse D’Hautpol (Paris 1906), p.84.

²⁶   For details of Admiral Villeneuve and his life whilst on parole, plus an account of his last days in France see Abell, p445–446; TNA:PRO ADM103/598 General Entry Book of French Prisoners of War on Parole at Reading; Jenkins, E.H., A History of the French Navy (London, 1973), p.264.

²⁷   Abell, p.446. Admiral de Winter entered the Dutch Navy in 1762 and rose to the rank of lieutenant. Politically he was a republican politically and joined the French Army, serving with it as a General in Holland in 1795. He was appointed Admiral and given command of a Dutch fleet, even though he had never commanded a ship. For details of his abilities, or otherwise, whilst afloat, see Parkinson, C. Northcote, Britannia Rules: The Classic Age of Naval History 1793–1815 (Alan Sutton, Stroud, 1994) p.46–49.

²⁸   TNA:PRO WO 40/8, War Office Unnumbered Papers, 20 October 1796.

²⁹   Crimmin, p69-70.

³⁰   TNA:PRO ADM105/44, 2 October 1806.

³¹   Haythornthwaite, The Napoleonic Source Book p.246.

³²   Ditchfield, P.H. Reading Seventy Years Ago: A Record of Events from 1813–1819 (Reading, 1887) p.101–102.

³³   TNA:PRO ADM103/552, General Entry Book of French prisoners of war on parole at Alresford.

³⁴   TNA:PRO ADM103/563, General Entry Book of French prisoners of war on parole at Odiham.

³⁵   TNA:PRO ADM98/200, Letters relating to prisoners on parole, 4 October 1809.

³⁶   TNA:PRO ADM103/594, General Entry Book of French prisoners of war on parole at Okehampton.

³⁷   TNA:PRO ADM103/565, General Entry Book of French prisoners on parole in Bridgnorth.

³⁸   TNA:PRO ADM103/495, 1 July 1799.

³⁹   TNA:PRO ADM103/615, General Entry Book of prisoners of war sent to Holland on parole 1796–99.

⁴⁰   TNA:PRO ADM103/506, French exchanges effected 1798–1801.