The smugglers turned out to be rascals; and a dispute with them about extra charges ended in a mid-Channel fight, during which one of the smugglers was killed. Within sight of the French coast the British ship _Victory_ captured them, and once more Garneray found himself in the _cachot_ of the Portsmouth prison-ship _Vengeance_. Garneray was liberated by the Treaty of Paris in 1814, after nine years’ captivity. He was then appointed Court Marine Painter to Louis XVIII, and received the medal of the Legion of Honour. The Marquis d’Hautpol was taken prisoner at Arapiles, badly wounded, in July 1812, and with some four hundred other prisoners was landed at Portsmouth on December 12, and thence sent on parole to ‘Brigsnorth, petite ville de la Principauté de Galles’, clearly meant for Bridgnorth in Shropshire. Here, he says, were from _eight to nine hundred_ other prisoners, some of whom had been there eight or nine years, but certainly he must have been mistaken, for at no parole place were ever more than four hundred prisoners. The usual rules obtained here, and the allowance was the equivalent of one franc fifty centimes a day. Wishing to employ his time profitably he engaged a fellow-prisoner to teach him English, to whom he promised a salary as soon as he should receive his remittances. A letter from his brother-in-law told him that his sisters, believing him dead, as they had received no news from him, had gone into mourning, and enclosed a draft for 4,000 francs, which came through the bankers Perregaux of Paris and ‘Coutz’ of London. He complains bitterly of the sharp practices of the local Agent, who paid him his 4,000 francs, but in paper money, which was at the time at a discount of twenty-five per cent, and who, upon his claiming the difference, ‘me répondit fort insolemment que le papier anglais valait autant que l’or français, et que si je me permettais d’attaquer encore le crédit de la banque, il me ferait conduire aux pontons’. So he had to accept the situation. The Marquis, as we shall see, was not the man to invent such an accusation, so it may be believed that the complaints so often made about the unfair practice of the British Government, in the matter of moneys due to prisoners, were not without foundation. The threat of the Agent to send the Marquis to the hulks if he persisted in claiming his dues, may have been but a threat, but it sounds as if these gentlemen were invested with very great powers. The Marquis and a fellow prisoner, Dechevrières, adjutant of the 59th, messed together, modestly, but better than the other poorer men, who clubbed together and bought an ox head, with which they made soup and ate with potatoes. A cousin of the Marquis, the Comtesse de Béon, knew a Miss Vernon, one of the Queen’s ladies of honour, and she introduced the Marquis to Lord ‘Malville’, whose seat was near Bridgnorth, and who invited him to the house. I give d’Hautpol’s impression in his own words: