‘Whatever the accurate number, it is generally accepted that the overwhelming majority of this grand army, French and allied, remained, in one condition or another, inside Russia.’ — Anthony Joes, 1997Every week, thanks to the readers of The Royal Gazette, I am privileged to embark on another voyage, which is usually one of discovery, as not everything I write is in my head, nor, some might say, is it to be believed. Such voyaging afar in geographical space and back in the reaches of time would not have been possible a decade or so ago, before the enterprising ship called Internet was launched on a perhaps unsuspecting public. Indeed when the good ship Enterprise went down the ways to probe into deepest space, the concept of travel on a personal computer was not even a fantasy in that fantastical and popular television programme. With the advent of the PC and the Internet following, travel in time and space has become a reality that would amaze Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock…and that without leaving the comforts of home.Perhaps I should not be telling you my state secrets, but readers often ask how the Heritage Matters articles come to be, aside from how one finds the time to get them out each week. Often a subject will come to the surface, like a mine whose cable has been cut, and explode into a mushroom cloud of information, some at hand, some dredged out of the mind, that human “hard disk”, and other vacuumed up by research in good old books, or on the ether of the Internet. Always one is seeking the truth, the facts, as far as one can ascertain, in order to present to my fellow Bermudians and all who love this place some nuggets, often golden, about “What Happened in History” in these enchanted isles, to take the title of one of the “groundbreaking” books of the late and great Australian archaeologist, V Gordon Childe. It is a thus a duty most pleasurable for me to take all who would embark on a weekly voyage into our Past, especially as many seem to enjoy such rampages down the rivers and rapids of history.None however can perhaps compare with the earthly voyage taken by a young lad in his teens in the wild reaches of eastern Europe in the epochal years of 181213, following which he “retired” to Bermuda to live a long and fruitful life.Franciscus DeCock was born in Flanders, Belgium, the site of calamitous battles in World War One, on October 6, 1797, the year Lt Thomas Hurd, RN, completed his great survey of the Bermuda reefs. He died at Bermuda on June 13, 1876 at the ripe old age of 79, as the British Empire was moving towards its apogee. Franciscus and his Bermudian wife, Dorcas, have many descendants on the island today, including PhD candidate at Bristol University and National Museum of Bermuda intern, Deborah Atwood. His tombstone boldly states in italic script that he “Served under Napoleon at the siege of Moscow and at the Battle of Waterloo”. So how did he get from the snow-swept wastes of war-torn Moscow to the warm waters and mangroves of the coasts of Bermuda?DeCock was but a boy of 15 when he got embroiled with Napoleon’s ill-fated march on Moscow in Russia, a military mistake of epic proportions repeated by the stupidity of Hitler who sacrificed one of his best armies at Stalingrad 130 years later. Franciscus, along with most of the French forces, marched to Moscow and back, which, as the crow flies from Paris to that city, is a round trip of over 3,000 miles. Throw in the indirect routing of roads, river crossings and hill and dale, and the distance marched increases significantly. The bugler DeCock entered eastern Europe, Russia-bound, with over 400,000 comrades: only some ten thousand or so marched out to cross the safety boundary of the Neman River in what is now Belarus.As a military aside, some years ago I met a man here with no fingers above his middle knuckles. Conscripted in Hitler’s army bound for Russia, said he: “I was the lucky one, as I was sent home after frostbite did its work on my hands, as no one else from my group came back”.Franciscus survived intact from his adventure into the steppes, only to take part in the Battle of Waterloo, the defeat of which for Napoleon was probably predetermined by that foray into Russia. Following that battle, in which victory went to Wellington and the Emperor Bonaparte departed for St Helena, DeCock decided to see the world, as witnessed by a passport issued at Antwerp in 1823. He arrived in Bermuda and on 15 June 1837, he married a local girl, Dorcas Stone, and the rest, they say, falls in line on the long march of history.Descendant Deborah Atwood’s doctoral research investigates Bermudian examples of “confinement art”, namely the objects and artwork created by convicts at Dockyard and prisoners of war housed here in the 19th and 20th centuries. While researching, she daily passes under the great Rubber Tree, which is another legacy of her ancestor, as Franciscus DeCock is known to have planted that majestic symbol of the tropics over a century ago, and whose roots, like hers, are to be found in the adjacent National Library.Edward Cecil Harris, MBE, JP, PHD, FSA is Executive Director of the National Museum at Dockyard. Comments may be made to director@bmm.bm or 704-5480.