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various quarters; old friends came forward to welcome our arrival and propose a punchparty. Four large fires were blazing; about seventy persons, officers and masters of merchantships, occupied the vault-some gambling, some singing, others crying "A ring! a ring!" in anticipation of a boxing-match. Never in my life had I seen such a spectacle of careless misery.

The number of prisoners at Bitche, occupying two separate souterrains, was about 400. The larger souterrain was inhabited by common sailors and soldiers; the smaller by officers and gentlemen. The fort, which was regarded as impregnable, is planted upon a height overlooking the surrounding country; a rocky foundation, with an excellent spring of water, had given favourable opportunity to the genius of Vauban. The souterrains, some 40 feet below the surface, were large-150 feet by 50- and were hewed out of the solid rock. Designed originally for troops and cattle during a siege, they were of course bomb-proof. Long guard-beds were fitted up with oak planks; a straw mattress and a blanket were shared between two persons. These caverns were kept as clean as the situation would admit, but were infested by rats, that came in droves, and would destroy all provisions and clothing within their reach. reach. The little light that entered through windows was never sufficient to read by; candles therefore burned all day long. Two hours in the forenoon, two in the afternoon, were

allowed for air and exercise "on deck," during which time the servants were employed in cleaning the souterrains and in fetching water and provisions. The place was so humid that our blankets looked as if a heavy dew had fallen on them. Smoking, gambling, boxing, and the consumption of raw spirits beguiled the hours. Let Frenchmen say what they please against the prison - ships of England-the worst of them was a palace compared with the fort of Bitche.

The prisoners were divided into messes, classed according to their rank, situation, and temper: those who were studious avoided the noisy

clubs. Brandy and a spirit called sneak were so cheap that one could get drunk for 3d. Rheumatism crippled many prisoners, yet deaths were less frequent here than at some other depots.

The governor-General Maisonneuve-was the most illiterate animal that ever wore a uniform; he bore the spite of a devil towards the English, and was ready to show it in any way he could. At the outbreak of the Revolution he had been one of the male nurses in the hospital at Metz; he had headed a mob of wretches like himself to whom bloodshed was a glory; his idea of military tactics was derived from service as a drummer; at Pondicherry he had lost an arm; but neither his talents nor his courage qualified him to figure in the field, and Buonaparte, who knew his instruments well, had placed the old sinner far from the smell of gunpowder (save

on saluting days), at Bitche, with a stout stick, Marshall where he might flourish his desperately fought his way, but heroic sword over a few fell dead at the sally-port. The prisoners of war. Desertions other prisoners had hurried back were more frequent from this to the souterrain; guards were depot than from any other, placed over them; in the mornand, thanks to the proximity of ing the bodies of Cox and the Rhine, were attended with Marshall, naked and mutilated, more success. On the other were exposed in the courtyard hand, the ramparts were high; as examples to the rest, who, there were occasional deaths, with the exception of certain and many a broken limb. spies, previously suspected and now proved to be such, were escorted to the state-prison.

The prisoners had ascertained that the souterrains communicated with several sally-ports. Two clever fellows, Cox and Marshall, formerly belonging to the Minerve, Captain Brenton, the one a carpenter, the other a blacksmith, undertook to open the strong doors and liberate their fellow-prisoners. They so far succeeded that the doors were actually unfastened; parties were made up, some had money, others had provisions to bear them on their long and desperate march, the plan being to separate immediately, and proceed to Holland by the Rhine. At nine o'clock lights were put out, silence was strictly observed, and Cox and Marshall led the way. When they had advanced half-way down the narrow passage, a sudden noise was heard by those behind, and Cox dropt deada sword through his heart-at his companion's feet. In a moment lights were shown by a party of soldiers, who lay in wait in the passage. Armed

At the base of the mountainheight lay the small town of Bitche, which consisted of one long street, and contained about 3000 inhabitants. Provisions were cheap and good; three times a-week the prisoners, in batches of thirty, were allowed to visit the town and make their purchases from butcher, baker, and grocer. Here nearly two years of my life passed away. Then came orders from the Minister of War that the officers at Bitche should be removed to Sarrelouis. We went off in divisions, in the first of which I was included. At two miles from Bitche, on a rising ground, we halted and gave our late abode three hearty groans. We passed a miserable night amid the stenches, filth, and insect life of the prison at Sarreguemines, and late next evening, having marched through Saarbruck, arrived at the barracks, fitted for a prison, of Sarrelouis.

A CHANGE FOR THE WORSE.

The town is small, containing 6000 inhabitants, but strongly fortified. A pleasant tree

shadowed walk encircles it. The language spoken is German. This depot was for 1500

prisoners, for the most part seamen. Le Sage, the commandant, had one superiority to old Maisonneuve-that of being a far more accomplished rogue. When he first took command of the depot, all the clothes on his back would not have made a sizable mop for a jolly-boat. In the course of five years he managed to keep a carriage, and to place large sums of money in the funds. Instead of supplying the prison with good meat as ordered by Government, he, with the aid of a Jew butcher, served up whatever offal could be procured in the town; clothing was withheld, so that some poor fellows stalked about in their blankets. Sarrelouis was, in truth, the worst depot in all France.

The room in which we were confined was about 20 feet square; seven beds were allotted to fourteen occupants; a large oak table and two long seats stood in the centre of the room. I now regretted Bitche. There was a certain comfort in being locked up with seventy companions of one's own rank and breeding; here I and another midshipman had to consort with a set of coal-heavers, mates of colliers, to whom the King's service seemed despicable, whose talk was of coal, canny lads, and brigs with pink sterns. Their manners were as admirable as their conversation: when I caught one fellow using my tooth-brush, I broke it and flung it away; I was varra fulish," he observed, as he intended to return it to my drawer duly rinsed; it would

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still serve, however, so he would preserve it for use on Sundays.

The abuses of the depot became so notorious that the Minister of War could not disregard the matter. Three commissioners were sent from Paris to inspect Sarrelouis, and listen to all complaints. They arrived without warning and incognito, but were known to Le Sage's numerous spies. Le Sage assembled his coal-heavers, and procured a document from them which stated that the prisoners were of the worst class, unruly savages, who sold their clothing and provisions for brandy, and that the commandant, one of the best men in the world, was only too indulgent to these ungrateful villains. The declaration was signed by twelve of the prisoners, who styled themselves officers. The commissioners perused the document, made no further inquiry, and immediately returned to Paris. Thus 1500 of their fellow-countrymen were sold by a dozen scoundrels, whose reward was permission to reside in the town, with celebrity among the prisoners as the "twelve apostles" of Sarrelouis.

Among the prisoners was a fine young fellow, a Welshman, named Morgan. He was reading in his room when the drum sounded for a muster; a gendarme drove the prisoners forward with the flat of his sword; on coming to Morgan, he gave him a heavy blow on the back: Morgan turned upon him, wrenched the sword from his hand, threw it out of the window, and thrashed the man down the stairs. The guard

arrived and rescued the gendarme from Morgan's fury; they forced their victim, after beating him shockingly, to the cachot or dark hole. Within a few days Morgan was tried by courtmartial and condemned to be shot; next morning at four o'clock the sentence was executed in the prisoners' buryingground. Such was French justice under Le Sage.

Opposite the room in which I was confined was a door leading to a sally-port near the river. I contrived to open the lock-bolt which secured this door, and in company with a

brother mid.-George Sydney Smith-explored the passage, which ran for 150 feet under the ramparts. Sometimes we were up to our waists in water. We succeeded in loosening the sally-port door, and returned to prepare for our departure. While we were changing our clothes, the drum beat to arms, soldiers hurried from their quarters, the Commandant stood at the door through which we had just passed and gave orders that a party should enter. So ended our hopes of escape, and fortunate we were not to have been discovered.

BACK IN VERDUN.

I remained for twelve months in this execrable place, and was then ordered back to Verdun. Many changes had occurred since my departure; many new faces appeared among the prisoners; every week arrived soldiers and officers, several of them and among these Lord Blayney-from Spain or Portugal. The gambling-house had been suppressed, but the clubs still existed; quarrels were frequent, and duels, with serious and sometimes fatal results, took place. Colonel Courcelles had succeeded General Wirion as Commandant. The

of

Wirion by his own pistol-shot was meanly tragic. By threats held out to gentlemen of large means, he had appropriated money to the tune of £20,000. Mr Garland alone had paid some £15,000: the gold was borrowed in a genteel manner, but in case of refusal the hostage's future residence would have been a cell in the fort of Bitche. Wirion's conduct had been represented as it was in fact to his master, Buonaparte, by a distinguished captain of the Royal Navy, and death seemed less intolerable to the unhappy wretch than degradation and ruin.

THE EMPEROR'S VISITS: HIS CHURLISH BEHAVIOUR.

I had been in Verdun about five months when Buonaparte returned from his Prussian ex

pedition. Triumphal arches were erected in the streets; a

band of music was planted on the top of each; flowers were strewn along the route; twenty young ladies were chosen to greet the Emperor on his ar

rival, and to offer him the sugarplums-dragées-for which Verdun is famous. Luckily for us, old Courcelles was no longer Commandant. The Baron de Beauchêne, who now held that post, had endeared himself to the English by his unvarying courtesy and consideration. The mayor had requested him to confine the prisoners in the citadel during the Emperor's visit. "Please to be responsible for your bourgeoisie," replied the Commandant, "and I will answer for the English." A beautiful English blood - horse was lent to the baron for the Emperor's use. When about to mount, Buonaparte inquired of the Commandant whether the horse was his. "No," he answered, "it is the property of an English gentleman, and is lent to me for your Majesty's accommodation." The Emperor drew back his hand from the horse's neck, and re-entered his carriage. His Mameluke sat in front, his arms crossed, with a pistol in each hand. As the carriage crossed the bridge, the traces gave way: they were dexterously spliced by the captain of an English merchantman, who received from the great man no offer of reward. Many prisoners cried Vive l'Empereur! but no acknowledgment was made.

The treatment of the midshipmen was now much more favourable than it had been. Half their full pay was allowed to them, with reasonable advances on what was due in the past. The loss on exchange, however, was so great that we

received only 12s., or on fortunate

occasions 15s., for £1. Since the return of the prisoners to England this loss on exchange has been made up to all commissioned officers, but not to midshipmen. to midshipmen. Had the act of justice been extended to us, I should be richer to the amount of £60.

Finding that I had no prospect of reaching England for many years, I married a young lady whose father had been commissary for the department of the Meuse, but was no longer living. During six months the widow had watched over me like a mother, and she became such in fact by giving me her daughter. Happiness seemed to beam upon our union.

He

In 1812 Buonaparte again passed through Verdun, on his way now to the Russian campaign. His countenance seemed altered; a cloud of doubt hung upon his brow. The Empress Marie-Louise and the Duchesse de Montebello, a most lovely woman (widow of Marshal Lannes), were with him. only stopped to change horses; would not condescend to reply to the Commandant; and when the mayor, with a well-studied speech, approached the carriage, he broke out with a voice of thunder: "Foutez le camp! [Be off!] and let me alone.' The unlucky mayor shrank away, shrugged his shoulders, and addressed his worthy fellows: "Mon Dieu! but the Emperor looks vexed: let us be off, and hope that we may please him better when he returns."

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