Napoleon's Men Transcript (Scotland: A Scottish History Podcast)
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MICHAEL PARK: Hi everyone, it’s Michael. This episode is something a bit different and I hope you’ll indulge me a bit. It’s my Mum’s birthday this week and it’s a ‘big birthday’. I won’t tell you what one but I asked her if she could have an episode on anything, what would it be…
She picked this… happy birthday Mum.
Scotland - A Scottish History Podcast
Episode 29 - Napoleon’s Men
MICHAEL PARK: It is 1811. You’re trudging in a line of your dishevelled comrades from a town you can barely pronounce to another town you can barely pronounce where people speak not only a language that is utterly foreign to you but you reckon that if you did speak the language, you wouldn’t understand them anyway.
You had been fighting for the Emperor. Someone who had given you your national pride back after the bloodbath of the French Revolution. Napoleon Bonaparte had given you and your people a purpose and something to fight for, but to fight in battle is to risk death. To fight in battle is to risk capture.
You’d been kept for what felt like years aboard one of the many floating prisons around the south coast of England but suddenly you’re on the move.
Thousands of your compatriots are being moved north of the border after the British Admiralty suddenly realised that housing thousands of French prisoners directly in the path of a potential French invasion force might just be a bad idea.
There was a suggestion that they were planning a mass breakout and an audacious attempt to seize the naval arsenal in Portsmouth in order to pave the way for Napoleon to make a last ditch effort to invade Britain.
So y’know… out of sight, out of mind.
This is Scotland, a podcast about history and where we made it. I’m Michael Park.
The Transport Board began moving the prisoners to sites in Penicuik, and Perth to a custom built facility which would become Perth prison.
First you’re going to have to make an overnight pit stop.
High above you, lost in the inky black of the night lies a fortress, sitting on a rocky outcropping above a bustling city where people have come out in the streets to see the convoy of carts move you and your comrades to the prison.
FRENCH OFFICER: “The sight of Edinburgh Castle, which rose above us and crowned the central hill frightened us. We knew that many Frenchmen had already been shut up there, and we were fearful that we would also be imprisoned within those thick black walls…”
MICHAEL PARK: Edinburgh Castle has only recently been converted to a permanent prison after one of Penicuik’s two depots started haemorrhaging prisoners who found escape from the temporary facility at Esk Mills all too easy.
The complex was closed down and nearly 500 prisoners were moved to the castle permanently. You don’t know where you’re going, unsurprisingly the soldiers guarding you aren’t too keen to tell you, not least because they don’t speak French… and probably don’t know.
The Castle isn’t the impregnable bastion that it once was. In fact, only weeks before 50 prisoners of war cut a hole in the parapet wall, and used a rope fashioned from clothes to scale down the side of the castle and the foreboding rock it sits upon.
One fell to his death, breaking his spine on the rocks on the way to the ground, four were rounded up immediately while most of the others managed to get out of Edinburgh. Some made it as far as Falkirk before being caught.
The last four could taste salt air as they boarded a ship bound for America. Unfortunately the ship was detained by the authorities and the unfortunate French sailors were taken back into custody.
Either French prisoners were very good at escaping or their British guards were complacent. There was another escape at the end of April and then one on the 14th July - Bastille Day - which ended the castle’s time as a permanent prison.
The head of the Transport Board was replaced for overseeing so many escapes but - as is tradition for failed heads of government institutions - was later reinstated.
With you being a mere pleb in the French navy, a lowly sailor, your fate is much different to the officers who have been brought north of the border.
In so-called ‘parole towns’ like Peebles, Selkirk and Kelso officers are given pretty much free reign. Housed with local families they are allowed to live almost as free men with a local agent assigned to make sure that they didn’t cause any trouble.
These officers weren’t expected to work and were being paid half a guinea a day by the British crown - not to mention the fact that many of them were independently wealthy.
Little French enclaves began to spring up with some even opening small theatres and cafes designed to cater to the tastes of the men who were ‘guests’ of the British authorities.
Since they were paying for their stay and in some cases investing large sums into the local economy, most of the people of the towns were pretty pleased with the arrangement.
Not everyone was so buzzing though. James Chambers owned a drapery business in Peebles and was forced out of business after a group of French officers who bought cloth from him refused to pay.
His sons Robert and William ended up having to go into the publishing industry instead of following in their fathers’ footsteps. The brothers would go on to publish the Chambers Etymological Dictionary which you can still find on shelves today.
Although they’ve long since dropped Etymological. It’s just the Chambers Dictionary these days.
All that being said this arrangement worked out very well and many French officers settled into life in these wee towns - some even stayed long after the war, integrating into local life and having families.
When Napoleon was finally defeated in 1815 there was a brief rumour that the French emperor would be brought to Edinburgh Castle but in the end he was exiled to Saint Helena, an island more than 1,000 miles off the west coast of Angola.
Somewhere he could never cause a problem again.
The French Emperor who had inspired so many to his side time and again when things seemed too bleak to fathom died in a draughty, damp, dilapidated house on a little British held island on 5th May 1821.
Most of his men had long since returned home from their exile, some chose to stay in Scotland and make their lives here, many had died in captivity.
Napoleon himself had requested that he be buried on the banks of the Seine. The British governor had him buried on Saint Helena.
It would be 19 years until His Imperial and Royal Majesty Napoleon I, By the Grace of God and the Constitution of the Republic, Emperor of the French, King of Italy, Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine, Mediator of the Swiss Confederation and Co-Prince of Andorra.
The restored monarch, King Louis-Philippe requested that his remains be returned to France and he was exhumed on Saint Helena and examined.
They say that the lead coffin in which he had been interred had allowed the Emperor’s body to remain almost perfectly preserved. They speculate that if you were to exhume his remains from the incredible sarcophagus which stands under the magnificent dome of Lés Invalides today, that the body of France’s first emperor would still be perfectly preserved.
Who’s to say.
The giant sarcophagus in the heart of Les Invalides, surrounded by France’s greatest military minds may well be a fitting memorial to Napoleon, but there is a more humble monument which stands in Valleyfield, Penicuik.
Paid for by the owner of the Valleyfield Mill which had been one of the depots for French prisoners, it marks the approximate location of the remains of 309 French POWs who lost their lives between 1811 and 1814.
Its inscription reads that the monument was erected by
MONUMENT: ‘Certain inhabitants of this parish desiring to remember [beat] that all men are brethren.’
CREDITS
You’ve been listening to Scotland, it was written and produced by me, Michael Park and is a production of Be Quiet Media.
This episode draws on information compiled by Dr Ian MacDougall whose book ‘All Men Are Brethren’ is an in-depth account of Napoleonic prisoners of war held in Scotland. Dr MacDougall sadly passed away in April of this year aged 86.
Additional voices in this episode were by Chris Moriarty.
The music for every episode of Scotland is by the human drum line, Mitch Bain, you can check out more of his work by heading over to Facebook and searching for Mitch Bain music.
Additional voices for this episode were by Jamie Mowat. Jamie does stunning illustrations for us which you can see in our episode art. See more and buy prints at tidlin - t i d l i n - .com.
Scotland is supported by Chris Lingwood and listeners like you on Patreon. Get involved and chuck us a couple of bucks at: patreon.com/scotlandhistorypodcast
You can find out more about the show on our website, thisisscotland.co and on twitter, facebook and instagram by searching Scotland - Scottish History Podcast.
Thanks for listening, we’ll see you next time.