Part 8

I have not yet said any thing to you of the French regular troops whom I have seen since I have been landed. There is not at present any complete regiment here, but there are detachments of infantry from several. Every day I see the different guards parade, march off, and relieve; and twice I have seen a detachment exercise, and perform their evolutions, which, though few and simple, were very awkwardly executed. Certainly a stranger, who should neglect to calculate the force of other causes, would start, on being told, that before these raw levies (to use Mr. Gibbon’s words, as nearly as I can recollect them, on an occasion not very dissimilar) the disciplined legions of Germany, the sons of chivalry of Castille, the gallant nobles of their own country, and even the hardy freemen of Britain, have been compelled to flee. In vain would he look for those usual indications of excellence, and prognoses of success, silence, attention, and the exact performance of movements in a great body, which we find in an individual.----In their room he would see battalions, composed indeed of stout and healthy young men, but clumsily and confusedly drawn up, with uneven ranks and broken files, whose bold looks, slovenly attire, and unrestrained carriage, would seem to proclaim equal defiance of their enemies and their leaders. Talk to them, and they will try to make you believe, that they wish to decide all battles by the bayonet only; and yet at this weapon they would to a certainty be beaten by the English, were the forces on each side in every other respect perfectly equal; for their bayonets, which I have measured, are shorter, and worse fitted for purposes of destruction, than ours. When they charge, nothing is more common than to hear them talk to each other, and fancy an Englishman, an Austrian, or a Spaniard, beneath their point, and crying for quarter.----I acknowledge freely, that the bravery of the French is as unquestionable as the light of the sun; but this in itself is inadequate to the atchievements which we have recently witnessed. To that lively courage which stimulates them to perpetual attacks; to their enthusiastic ardour in the cause of their invaded country; and above all to their undiminishable numbers, must be attributed those extraordinary events, which have confounded all political calculation, and filled Europe with amazement, consternation, and mourning.

The present pay of the common soldier is ten sols a day and a ration of provisions, but no wine when quartered in towns. They are furnished by the state with necessaries; so that the money is for pocket expences only. The name of the general officer now commanding here is Klingly. He is a native of Alsace, and one of the largest men I ever saw, being at least six feet four inches high, and proportionably stout. I have once dined in his company, and sat next to him, when he told me, that he had been in England, and, among other parts of it, at Castle Howard, the seat of Lord Carlisle; but in what capacity he had visited there, he did not explain to me.----His birth is reported to be obscure, and his advancement sudden.-------- Adieu.

LETTER IX.

Quimper, 15th April, 1795.

By a news-paper, which I lately read, I find that the miseries and complaints of the English prisoners here have at length been communicated to our government; and that Sir Morton Eden is absolutely arrived in France, in order to negociate the terms of an exchange. This subject, which I have forborne to touch upon before, is a very serious one; and a relation of the sufferings which the prisoners of war here have undergone, from the injustice and cruelty of their treatment, would form a most afflicting narrative. The following statement, which was drawn up on the spot, by the Honourable Mr. Wesley[F], and transmitted to Mr. Pitt, you may depend upon as a genuine and faithful representation.

“Quimper, 18th October, 1794.

“In the beginning of July last, the prisons of Quimper contained about 2,800 fine young men, about which period a jail distemper broke out among them, which has already carried off upwards of 1,200. This disease still continues to rage with violence, and is not to be attributed to any general ill state of the air, but to the following local circumstances.

“First----Want of cleanliness, from there being no necessaries provided, whence the whole circumambient air becomes contaminated by so many people.

“Secondly----Bad provisions, and those in very small quantities, the daily allowance for seven prisoners being only six pounds of bad black bread; every fourth day these seven persons receive also two pounds of salt pork among them; and on the intermediate days they are served with a scanty mess of horse-beans. They have bad water, and no wine, or any spirits of any kind; nor have even those who possess the means leave to purchase those articles.

“Thirdly----Want of bedding and clothes, the commissary of the prison of Pontenazan, near Brest, having stripped the greater part of the victims, who had the misfortune to pass through his hands, of their clothes, bedding, and money[G].

“Fourthly----Want of proper hospitals and attendance on the sick; the hospital, which is intended for English prisoners, being too small to receive half the number that are seized with the fever. The remainder are carried into a damp room, and laid upon straw, without any covering; and the above-mentioned prison allowance is their only support.

“This is a fair and impartial statement of the situation of our unfortunate countrymen. The winter, should they remain here, will open a new scene of distress, as the few who may be spared, will then perish by cold and hunger, as they will be absolutely destitute of clothes, blankets, and other necessaries.”

After this it were almost unnecessary to pursue enquiry farther; but as some well-authenticated anecdotes have been told to me, which, besides their relation to the subject, strongly tend to evince the temper of the times at different periods, and thereby become in some measure associated with the general politics of the country, I shall give them to you, after first premising, that I believe the greatest part of these nefarious and disgraceful proceedings are attributable not to a deficiency of either proper liberality, or proper directions, on the part of the present French government, but rather to the villany of their subordinate agents, who have violated the latter, in order to profit by the former. We know that a _traitement_, in _assignats_, to officers, who are prisoners, has been decreed by the convention, and its rate settled; although, from the multitude of offices through which it has to pass, and the obstacles and impediments thrown in our way when we attempt to trace the cause of the stoppage, hitherto we have not been able to recover any part of it. It is also fair to state, that since a new commissary of prisoners has been appointed here, the daily ration of provisions, by being equitably issued, is found very tolerably sufficient. Farther, in justice to the people I am among, let me declare, that since I have been landed (except a petty instance or two of splenetic insult) I have had no cause to complain of oppressive treatment, or to lament the want of as reasonable an extension of liberty as I could expect.

I have said, that in the winter bread was forbidden to be sold to the prisoners, and so was fuel, notwithstanding the severity of the season, and although no allowance of it was issued to them. Had not the humanity of some of the inhabitants of the town induced them to step forward to their relief, in defiance of the penalty of imprisonment, many of the English must have perished from cold.

The care of Lieutenant Robinson, of the Thames frigate, will set the conduct of the agents of tyranny in its proper light. This gentleman was taken in the latter end of October 1793, when _terror_ was the _order of the day_, and in the engagement, which led to the capture of the ship, lost one of his legs above the knee, and was severely wounded in the other. On his arrival at Brest he was sent on shore to an hospital, and attributes his being now alive to a good constitution only; for he was neglected by the surgeons, and obliged to eat food in the highest degree improper for a wounded man. He once applied to the chief commissary for permission to send a person to buy some eggs, vegetables, and other refreshments for him, and was brutally refused. Mr. Robinson found, however, in some nuns, who were compelled to attend here, tender and careful nurses. These poor women were subjected to the grossest insults, and the harshest treatment. They had accustomed themselves, from motives of religious commiseration towards the sick, to employ their leisure hours in praying by the couches of those who chose to hear them; but this pious and humane practice was interdicted to them, by an especial mandate from the representatives on mission here; and two of them, who were found guilty of transgressing the order, were dragged to prison, amidst reproaches, taunts, and execrations.

Some months after, when his cure was advanced, though far from completed, Mr. Robinson, in a hope of changing for the better, requested to be removed to Pontenazan prison, about two miles from Brest, which was the general receptacle of the English. Thither he was conveyed in a cart, with several more sick prisoners, and thrust into an old rope-house, containing 700 people, who shortly after were increased to 1,400. This room contained no beds for the sick, and his stump was not healed. At first they were allowed to walk for air in the day-time in an inclosed court; but this indulgence did not last long, and thenceforth, on _no occasion whatever_, was a prisoner suffered to go out of the room. Nay the windows were forbidden to be opened, though it was the beginning of summer. However, upon this interdiction being communicated to the representatives at Brest, they ordered the windows to be kept closed on _one side only_. This rigorous crowded confinement soon induced putrid diseases, which swept off twenty and thirty persons a day, who were thrown without covering into a large hole, and quick-lime heaped on the bodies. The daily allowance of the prison was a pound and a quarter of black sandy bread, four ounces of salt pork, a pint of sour wine, and at night a soup, of horse-beans boiled in water. The pork they were obliged to eat always raw, for there was neither a kitchen, nor any fire allowed, by which it could be dressed; and the sentinels were strictly forbidden to permit the prisoners to send out and make purchases of fuel, or aught else that they might need.

This huge dungeon contained people of all ages. One day the commissary of prisoners pointed out to Prieur de la Marne (one of the members of the convention on mission) some little children, who were in a destitute miserable condition, and asked what should be done to relieve their wretchedness. “They are young vipers,” cried this gentle and compassionate representative, stamping with fury, “turn them out to graze; grass is good enough for the English!”----This same Prieur, who is now “shorn of his beams,” and in arrest, is well known for his severities and oppressions in Brittany. It seems, that he entertained hardly a more favourable opinion of the people of Brest, than of the English; for at one of the meetings of the popular society there, after a great execution, he affirmed that the town did not contain three real patriots; and that all persons who wore mourning for traitors (meaning those who had just been guillotined) were sharers in their guilt.

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!

“_Un faible rejetton-------- entre les ruines_ _“De cet arbre fécond, coupé dans ses racines._” Henriade, 7th Canto.