Some additional particulars of this journey may be given from Captain Brenton’s private notes. “Having heard of an English lady residing at Caen, I called upon her. She immediately offered me all the assistance in her power, and amongst other acts of kindness, made me a tender of her credit with a banker, which I thankfully accepted, and procured fifty louis. This was a very timely supply, as the fifty louis of M. Dubois were not expected to last long amongst so many.”
“We were just seated at dinner at St. Denis, when a gentleman from M. Peregaux was announced, who brought me three hundred louis in gold, and a letter of credit for four hundred more upon M. Doublat, at Epinal, with an assurance that any bills endorsed by me should be immediately honoured. This conduct was truly noble, and a high compliment to the British navy. No sooner was this act of liberality made known, than there was a general cheer amongst the midshipmen, and indeed amongst all hands. ‘I will walk no more,’ cried one; and ‘I will have a carriage and drive myself,’ said another. In short, each one had some scheme of future proceeding, and all were determined to be indemnified for past fatigue. On the following day every description of carriage was put in requisition, and the whole of the prisoners were provided for; but when they found that all the carriages must be kept together, and go ‘au pas,’ in order to keep with the infantry, a portion of which formed a part of the escort; the luxury of being carried ceased to have its charms; and nearly the whole body returned to marching on foot, to which they had got so much accustomed.”
Of his own feelings during this journey Captain Brenton speaks thus in his notes, “I performed nearly the whole of the march on foot, and in the heat of summer; yet I never remember to have enjoyed better health. Indeed, under all my trials, I have experienced the same mercy and goodness from Divine providence; and this has convinced me, that under all my depressions of spirits, and despondencies, from which I have so often derived unhappiness, it has been from want of exertion, and from gloomy forebodings, in which I was most culpably indulging.”
Those who best knew him, would consider this to be more the language of humility than of truth; but they must also feel convinced that it was dictated by sincere conviction, and self-abasement. Again, adverting to the period immediately following his arrival at Epinal, he writes, “From the time of our arriving here I had frequent communication with England by letters; and our hopes were constantly excited, or depressed, by the various and contradictory reports which reached us: but I had one source of comfort which never failed me—it was the contemplation of the goodness of God towards me. I often contrasted my situation at that time, trying as it was, with what it would have been, had I been united to a woman, who would not have shared in my lot, as my beloved Isabella did. Her fond affection would have prompted her to have flown to me instantly, but for the prospect of my being immediately released. What advantages of beauty, or splendour of fortune, can be put in competition with such a heart as she possessed? with what lustre did she shine in the hour of trial. It was at this time also, whilst living in peaceful retirement at Epinal, where we certainly enjoyed tranquility, and with very few exceptions experienced the greatest kindness from the French; that I began to consider more attentively the nature of the religion I professed; and I soon found that I had hitherto been a nominal Christian only. Since that period I humbly trust every succeeding year has brought some little increase in the knowledge of my duty; although I am still at an awful distance from what I ought to be. My subsequent life has however been greatly influenced by the reflections I then made. Sweet are the uses of adversity.”
He adds these remarks on his first arriving at Epinal. “The hopes of an immediate exchange having now vanished, I considered it my duty to take the most prompt measures to render our captivity as advantageous, and as little galling as possible, particularly to the young people, and to the ship’s company. My first care was to have the young people, who had been placed under my particular charge, put en pension with respectable French families; where they might have the advantage of regular hours, and be enabled to learn the language with greater facility; instead of living together, where nothing but English would have been spoken, and much of their time passed in idleness. Here they had the advantage of such masters as the place afforded. The early hours of the French families greatly contributed to the health and comfort of those intrusted to their care; whilst the very moderate terms paid for their board and lodging, as well as for their instruction, enabled them to obtain great advantages at a very low price. In fact the misfortune of having fallen into the enemy’s hand, bid fair to be of the most essential benefit to some, who had been sent to sea very little advanced in education, particularly as their time of servitude went on as well as their pay, in the same manner, as though they had actually continued afloat. The officers and myself had of course each our private lodgings in the town; but we formed a mess at the principal inn, where we had an excellent dinner and supper, with wine included, for the very small sum of fifty francs each per month, less than one shilling and sixpence sterling per day.
“At (I believe) Gondrecourt, the march having been finished early in the day, I had laid down, and had fallen asleep, when I was awakened by English cheering under the windows; and looking out to ascertain the cause of this unusual circumstance, was told that a courier from Paris to Epinal had just passed, and had given the joyful information that he was the bearer of orders for an exchange of prisoners, and that we might expect to be marched back to the coast, even before we should reach Epinal. This was so probable, that it was easily believed, and we proceeded to Epinal, in the full persuasion that our stay there would be very short. It is likely the report was well founded, for at this time the British government had offered to exchange Captain Jurieu, taken in the Franchise, for me; but it was refused by the first consul.”
Having thus seen the Captain and crew of the Minerve arrived at the end of their journey; the Editor feels that he is justified in calling the attention of his readers, to the circumstances under which the subject of this memoir was then placed.
We have seen him in the previous narrative, slowly and gradually, amidst various trials and disappointments, winning his way to that point in his profession, which a just and reasonable ambition led him to desire. We have seen him emerging out of difficulties which were likely to have overwhelmed a man who was supported by no family or private interest, and who was to rise, if he rose at all, by personal exertions. We have seen him obtaining promotion, rank, and honour, and finally in gaining the object of his early and persevering attachment, we have seen him realizing all that he had hoped for or desired. And now at the commencement of a new career, the career which to an ardent and energetic spirit like his, must have seemed the most brilliant and full of promise; in command of one of the finest frigates in the navy, at the beginning of a war which seemed likely to be a struggle for life and death between two mighty empires, when everything that his profession could offer was before him; when rank and fortune, and what was dearer than both to a mind like his, were apparently within his reach, and might have been reasonably anticipated; he is doomed to open the campaign with a disaster, which was not only in itself most afflicting, and likely to affect his professional character; but which immediately involved a captivity of interminable duration; a captivity to be rendered more intolerable while it lasted, by hearing of what was done by others; and which might be extended to such a length, as to mar all future prospect of promotion or distinctions. It is only necessary for the reader to place himself in such circumstances, and the imagination can easily supply the pictures which might have presented themselves to Captain Brenton’s mind on the occasion; and, notwithstanding this, we find him in the hour of misfortune, calm if dejected; resigned to a lot which seemed to involve the loss of all he had been seeking; and sustained under defeat by the consciousness of having endeavoured to do his duty. Something may be ascribed to temperament; something may be ascribed to the buoyant character of a profession, which being cast in the midst of dangers, lives by surmounting them, and grows habitually indifferent to circumstances, by successfully struggling against them. But while we cede much to causes like these, we need not cede more than is due. Many officers no doubt shared the same hard destiny with him, and bore with more or less equanimity the trial of captivity. No comparison is drawn, nor attempted to be drawn, between their behaviour and his. Our object is not to raise Captain Brenton on this occasion above others; but to shew him as he was, and to describe how he felt and how he acted. It is not essential that a model should be superior to every thing else of the kind; but we feel that it is sufficient for the purpose, if it has qualities that should be imitated, and that may be imitated; and we know that that example is sometimes found to be the most beneficial, which comes nearest to the level of him who is to be encouraged or directed by its contemplation.