‘These would upset the discipline of prisons like Gosport. Also we must remember that the inmates of the hulks were chiefly the crews of privateers, and that privateering was not considered fair warfare by England.’ (Strange to say, the editor passes over this statement without comment.) ‘At Forton there reigned the most perfect order, under a discipline severe but humane. We heard no sobbings of despair, we saw no unhappiness in the eyes of the inmates, but, on the contrary, on all sides resounded shouts of laughter, and the chorus of patriotic songs.’ In after years, when Germain Lamy, the foster-brother, was living a free man in France, Doisy says that in conversation Lamy never alluded to the period of his captivity in England without praising warmly the integrity and the liberality of all the Englishmen with whom as a prisoner-trader he had business relations. ‘Such testimonies,’ says Doisy, ‘and others of like character, cannot but weaken the feelings of hatred and antagonism roused by war between the two nations.’ In a few days Doisy was marched off to Odiham, but, on account of the crowded state of the English parole towns, it was decided to send the newcomers to Scotland, and so, on October 1, 1811, they landed at Leith, 190 in number, and marched to Selkirk, via Edinburgh and the dépôt at Penicuik. There was some difficulty at first in finding lodgings in the small Scottish town for so large a number of strangers, but when it was rumoured that they were largely gentlemen of means and likely to spend their money freely, accommodation was quickly forthcoming. Living in Scotland Doisy found to be very much cheaper than in England, and the weekly pay of half a guinea, regularly received through Coutts, he found sufficient, if not ample. His lodging cost but half a crown a week, and as the prisoners messed in groups, and, moreover, had no local hindrance to the excellent fishing in Ettrick and Tweed, board was probably proportionately moderate. As the French prisoners in Selkirk spent upon an average £150 a week in the little town, and were there for two years and a half, no less a sum than £19,500 was poured into the local pocket. The exiles started a French café in which was a billiard table brought from Edinburgh, to which none but Frenchmen were admitted; gathered together an orchestra of twenty-two and gave Saturday concerts, which were extensively patronized by the inhabitants and the surrounding gentry; and with their own hands built a theatre accommodating 200 people. ‘Les costumes,’ said Doisy, ‘surtout ceux des rôles féminins, nous nécessitaient de grands efforts d’habilité. Aucun de nous n’avait auparavant exercé le métier de charpentier, tapissier, de tailleur, ou . . . fait son apprentissage chez une couturière. L’intelligence, toutefois, stimulée par la volonté, peut engendrer de petits miracles.’ They soon had a répertoire of popular tragedies and comedies, and gave a performance every Wednesday.