Transcribed from the [1895] Hodder Brothers edition by DavidPrice,
“Weep sore for him that goeth away:for he shall return no more, nor see his nativecountry.”
the
French Prisoners
of
Norman Cross.
A TALE.
bythe
REV. ARTHUR BROWN,
Rector of Catfield, Norfolk.
London:
HODDER BROTHERS,
18 New Bridge Street, E.C.
p. 2Printed by
nops & tarrant,
19, Ludgate Hill, London, E.C.
p.5CHAPTER I.—THE ARRIVAL.
The tramp of feet was heard one afternoon late in the Autumnof 1808, on the road that leads from Peterborough toYaxley. A body of men, four abreast, and for the most partin the garb and with the bearing of soldiers, was marchingalong. But the sight was not exhilarating. The swingand springy step of soldiers on the march is always a pleasantsight; but there was a downcast look on most of these men’sfaces, and a general shabbiness of appearance that was notattractive. And no wonder: for they had come from thebattlefield, p. 6and crossed the sea in crowded ships,not too comfortable; and were drawing near, as prisoners of war,to the dreary limbo which, unless they chanced to die, was to betheir abode for they knew not how long. To be prisoners ofwar is an honourable estate, almost the only captivity to whichno shame attaches: yet this is but cold comfort to compensate forloss of freedom.
All down the column and on each side of it marched a file ofred-coated militia-men with guns loaded and bayonets fixed, notas a complimentary escort, but a stern necessity, a fact that hadbeen proved not an hour before, when some desperate fellow hadbroken through the guard, and flung himself from the parapet ofthe bridge over the Nene at Peterborough, and was shot the momenthe rose to the surface of the water. Alas! for him, poorfellow, they could aim well in those days with even the old“Brown Bess.”
Many a sad procession of unfortunates like p. 7these hadtravelled the same road before, during the last five years, butthey had consisted for the most part of prisoners taken in navalengagements, such as the seamen and marines captured from thefour Spanish frigates, with a million sterling on board; and themen brought to England from both French and Spanish possessionsin the West Indies, besides crews of privateers, floating“Caves of Adullam,” where everyone that was indistress, or in debt, or discontented, were gathered together,along with many who had taken to that wild life to escapepolitical troubles. Perhaps, also, there had been some ofthose twelve thousand prisoners who had been sent afterTrafalgar’s fight was over in 1805.
It was now, as we have said, the year 1808. ThePeninsular war had begun, and the prisoners we are describingwere some of those brave Frenchm