( 313 ) 

 SOME ACCOUNT OF A CAPTIVITY. 



CHAP. II. THE MARCH. 



IN my last paper I gave an account of my capture by the French 

 privateer the Grand Due de Berg, and having been landed, with my 

 companions, at Dieppe,, as a prisoner of war. We were marched, under 

 an escort of gendarmerie, to the old castle of Dieppe, at that time con- 

 verted into a prison ; and, although with the prospect of a long and 

 dreary captivity before me, I could not look upon the gloomy side, but 

 passed along the town admiring the antique appearance of the build- 

 ings and the strangeness of the people. I will not dwell upon our 

 hospitable reception at the castle upon our comfortable lodging in 

 one of the round towers the abundance of straw with which we 

 were provided the bowl of soup per diem and the primitive manner 

 in which we all fed, having but one spoon among the party. It was 

 a weary time ; and right glad were we when the order came for us to 

 march, although the hope of improvement in our condition was but 

 slender : so buoyant is the mind of youth, that any change from the 

 dreary monotony of close prison discipline is a relief. 



The preparations for our removal, however, were any thing but 

 promising : we were placed two by two, and fastened together by 

 handcuffs and short chains. In the centre of each chain was a ring, 

 and when we were all handcuffed in pairs, a rope was passed through 

 all the rings, to keep us from scattering, the last man's handcuff being 

 fastened to the end of the rope. Thus confined, it was impossible to 

 avoid any sink or puddle ; for though one might step over, if alone, 

 he could not take those behind ; so that through every thing, thick 

 and thin, we had all to pass. 



Thus manacled and guarded like convicts, we were gallantly 

 marched through the town of Dieppe, escorted by six soldiers and 

 two gens-d'armes, having first received a pound and a half of bread 

 and five sous (twopence halfpenny) each, which, we were given to 

 understand, was to be our daily allowance during our march to Cam- 

 bray, our final destination. 



As we passed by one of the quays, the first thing that attracted our 

 attention was a large vessel with her topmasts struck, her decks 

 housed in, and a number of persons employed in discharging her 

 cargo. This was indeed putting our feelings to a bitter test, for, at a 

 glance, we recognized her to be the Eden, our own poor vessel, in 

 which, but a very few days before, we expected to arrive safely in 

 London. ' We involuntarily halted for a moment to look at her, but 

 it was only for a moment, as the surly cry of our guards, calling " En 

 avant en avant done!" compelled us to proceed. My spirits were 

 not at any period of the sinking kind ; and even when 1 did feel 

 acutely, I generally had the power to conceal my feelings under a 

 smiling or a careless countenance ; but here it was too much : the 

 thought of father, friends, and home rushed at once upon my mind, 

 which, coupled with the prospect of misery, distress, and privation 



M. M. No. 99. 2 S 



