The wars between Britain and France stretch back several centuries. I first became interested in them many years ago when I discovered that one of my ancestors, Thomas Wills, had been a prisoner of war in France in 1779. Thomas was a quartermaster in the Royal Navy and he was detained at the chateau of Fougères in Brittany for a year, but was released as part of a prisoner exchange programme.

Exchange rates
To our modern way of thinking, handing back some of the enemy’s fighting men seems odd behaviour. Yet this was long-standing practice. In 1780, for example, the British and French governments developed a Cartel For The Exchange Of All Prisoners Taken At Sea, Etcetera. This agreement formalised arrangements that were already in place, but it specified that enemy prisoners “shall be exchanged man for man, according to their ranks and qualities or for a certain number of private men as an equivalent, or for certain sums as ransom, as is herein specified”. In practice this meant there were agreed ‘exchange rates’: one captured French general could be exchanged for one British general or 60 British privates, for example.

The rank-for-rank exchange of military personnel meant that equivalent ranks between the two powers had to be defined, and they were. For instance, one British rear admiral would be exchanged for the corresponding Chef d’Escadre in the French navy. Ransoms could be paid when there were no equivalent ranks to exchange and the sums were specified in the cartel. An ordinary seaman commanded a ransom of £1, and a petty officer £2, whereas a rear admiral would cost £30.

France and Britain negotiated these arrangements because both governments found it difficult to house prisoners, and to guard, clothe, feed and care for them. Each state even sent the other one invoices for money expended on caring for the other nation’s prisoners on the grounds that, although captured, they were still the responsibility of the enemy’s government. Unfortunately, as relations between the two nations deteriorated in the last years of the 18th century, these exchanges largely ground to a halt. At this stage Britain held about five times more prisoners than the French.

Imprisonment
In the 18th century, Britain did not have a large number of domestic prisons to hold French prisoners of war. Most perpetrators of serious crimes at this time were either executed or transported to America, and many of the prisons that housed lesser offenders were privately owned.

When the American colonies gained their independence, transportation had to cease and, casting around for an easy alternative, the British government decided to use so-called prison hulks. A hulk was the hull of a former warship with its masts removed and often with a roof erected over the maindeck to protect the ship from the weather. These floating prisons were initially used to detain convicted British criminals, but in wartime it was a straightforward step to move French captives there too.

Portsmouth, Plymouth and the Thames were home to a number of these ships, especially from the mid-1770s onwards. They were crowded, harsh, unsanitary places where diseases such as tuberculosis, dysentery and typhus could spread rapidly. The conditions were horrendous and one French prisoner described the pitiful state of his fellow prisoners on a hulk: “Picture an army of corpses emerging from the grave, hollow-eyes, bent, unshaven, their faces wan and grey, their bones only half covered in yellow rags.”

Apart from the hulks, which every prisoner dreaded, French captives were also sent to public buildings which had been converted into prisons. A notable example is Portchester Castle in Hampshire which by 1810 accommodated some 7,000 prisoners. This fascinating fortress dates back to Roman times and a visit is highly recommended (see here). You can still see where some of the French captives carved their names into the stonework. Carving was also the basis of an important source of income for prisoners because many of them sculpted bone and wood to make beautiful objects which they sold to local people.

A number of other buildings were appropriated as prison depots, but then the government hit on the idea of constructing a purpose-built facility on land. Norman Cross Depot in Huntingdonshire has been called the world’s first purpose-built prisoner of war camp, holding up to 7,000 captives. It took less than four months to erect in 1797 and was built entirely of wood. Here attempts were made to provide better accommodation than the hulks, with improved amenities and food. The depot was sited a long way inland to try and deter escape, but this did not stop numerous attempts.

A tombstone in nearby St Nicholas’s church, Dereham, records the attempted escape of a French prisoner. Twenty-eight-year-old Jean de Narde had fled Norman Cross but was recaptured. He was incarcerated in the church’s bell tower overnight, but under the cover of darkness he tried to escape once again by climbing down from his prison. Unfortunately, a guard spotted him, opened fire and killed him. Dartmoor Prison in Devon was also purpose-built to house Napoleonic prisoners of war. But conditions were tough: between 1812 and 1816 about 1,500 foreign prisoners died there and were buried in a field outside.

Officers
Although rank and file soldiers and sailors were sent to hulks or prison depots, enemy officers were handled differently. An officer was considered a ‘gentleman’ and was therefore allowed his ‘parole of honour’. This meant that he could live in a UK community without guards, largely as he pleased, provided he took an oath in writing not to escape. In some circumstances, especially before the 1780s, officers were even allowed to return to France if they swore not to fight again until officially exchanged for a British officer. Paroled officers were allocated to one of more than 120 ‘parole towns’ in the UK, where they were able to live with considerable freedom within that community. The small market town of Alresford, for example, held a contingent of French officers. The neatly-tended graves of some that died there are still visible in the churchyard. Officers were allowed a small daily allowance to live on, which was paid to them by a local agent. They often became a part of the local community and mixed well with locals, especially in the latter part of the era.

The parole arrangement was a matter of trust and honour. In 1757 Captain René Brison broke his parole and absconded to France. The King of France, Louis XVI, was so incensed by this ungentlemanly conduct that he ordered him to return to captivity in England. Yet these ideals could not be sustained and with time they were eroded: by the early 1800s hundreds of French officers broke their parole every year. About a third of them were re-captured and imprisoned. Some officers refused to give a parole promise and preferred to be sent to a hulk or prison from the outset, from where they had the chance to stage a legitimate escape.

A particularly distinguished French prisoner was Napoleon’s own brother, Lucien Bonaparte. He had quarrelled with the Emperor, and was captured by the Royal Navy when he attempted to sail to the United States in 1809. He was permitted to purchase a house in Worcestershire and to mix in local society. Another notable 18th century detainee was Marshal Tallard who commanded the Franco-Bavarian forces at the Battle of Blenheim in 1704. He was captured and placed under house arrest in Nottingham for six years, where he kept a beautiful garden and popularised the eating of celery!