‘How performances in French should have had any general attraction may seem to require explanation. There had grown up in the town among young persons especially, a knowledge of familiar French phrases; so that what was said, accompanied by appropriate gestures, was pretty well guessed at. But, as greatly contributing to remove difficulties, a worthy man, of an obliging turn and genial humour, volunteered to act as interpreter. Moving in humble circumstances as hand-loom weaver, he had let lodgings to a French captain and his wife, and from being for years in domestic intercourse with them, he became well acquainted with their language. William Hunter, for such was his name, besides being of ready wit, partook of a lively musical genius. I have heard him sing _Malbrook s’en va t’en guerre_ with amazing correctness and vivacity. His services at the theatre were therefore of value to the natives in attendance. Seated conspicuously at the centre of what we may call the pit, eyes were turned on him inquiringly when anything particularly funny was said requiring explanation, and for general use he whisperingly communicated the required interpretation. So, put up to the joke, the natives heartily joined in the laugh, though rather tardily.... As for the French plays, which were performed with perfect propriety, they were to us not only amusing but educational. The remembrance of these dramatic efforts of the French prisoners of war has been through life a continual treat. It is curious for me to look back on the performances of the pieces of Molière in circumstances so remarkable. ‘My mother, even while lending her dresses and caps to enable performers to represent female characters, never liked the extraordinary intimacy which had been formed between the French officers and my father. Against his giving them credit she constantly remonstrated in vain. It was a tempting but perilous trade. For a time, by the resources just mentioned, they paid wonderfully well. With such solid inducements, my father confidingly gave extensive credit to these strangers—men who, by their positions, were not amenable to the civil law, and whose obligations, accordingly, were altogether debts of honour. The consequence was that which might have been anticipated. An order suddenly arrived from the Government commanding the whole of the prisoners to quit Peebles, and march chiefly to Sanquhar in Dumfriesshire: the cause of the movement being the prospective arrival of a Militia Regiment. ‘The intelligence came one Sunday night. What a gloom prevailed at several firesides that evening! ‘On their departure the French prisoners made many fervid promises that, should they ever return to their own country, they would have pleasure in discharging their debt. They all got home in the Peace of 1814, but not one of them ever paid a farthing, and William Chambers was one of the many whose affairs were brought to a crisis therefrom.’