JOURNEY TO TOURS, INCIDENTS ON THE ROAD AND RESIDENCE THERE.
I feel that no apology need be made to the readers of this Memoir for the
length of the digression which occupied the last Chapter. The history
of Sir Jahleel Brenton is identified with the service of his country;
and a very inadequate idea would be formed of the perils undergone, and
the hardships endured in that service, if the storm and the battle were
the only circumstances recounted; and the sickening length of a dreary
captivity, embittered by ill treatment, and hardly cheered by hope, was
not to be named among the evils that were braved and borne by the navy
during the last war.
Had the excellent friend, from whose deeply interesting narrative I have
extracted this notice of the state of things at Givet, been spared; I
might have calculated with equal confidence on his indulgence, when the
character of Sir Jahleel Brenton, and the interests of his family were
to be asserted; and it is a source of satisfaction to myself to be able
to draw attention to one of the most touching and affecting memorials of
God’s mercy to men, which have been recently published.
From causes which it is not easy to explain, the narrative which bears
the title of the “British Prisoners in France,” never seems to have met
with the acceptance which it deserves; for of all the cases where the
grace of God has been exhibited in a large and general measure, where it
seems to have descended as in showers, none seem to have exceeded this
in the simplicity of the means used, and in the extent of the blessing
vouchsafed. The depôt which Mr. Wolfe found like a howling wilderness,
he left like a garden of the Lord; but few persons can conceive the
difficulties with which he had to struggle, or the value of the
assistance which he derived from Sir Jahleel Brenton’s co-operation.
The object which he had in view was accomplished. His labour was not
in vain in the Lord; but it is painful and yet salutary to hear of
the way in which these disinterested exertions and self devotion were
acknowledged at home. The moral influence which was exercised on the
people at Givet prevented desertion, and probably preserved hundreds of
valuable seamen for the service of their country. The schools, which
were established at the same time for the boys, rescued them from the
evils of ignorance, and prepared them to resume their place in the navy,
instructed in the theory and practice of navigation. Had this not been
done, all the prisoners, both old and young, would have returned from
their captivity unfit for employment, and burdens to the country which
received them; and the nation owed to Mr. Wolfe and his companion in
labour, a debt which might have justified any mark of public gratitude.
An effort was made to obtain for him the amount of a chaplain’s pay
during the period of his residence at Givet; and after long delay and
many applications this was granted. It is happy for those who labour for
the public good, to look to a different remuneration than that which man
affords. There is one Master who knows what his servants do, and who
never allowed the least or lowest effort to go without its reward; and
he who labours in faith feels it his privilege to think little of the
recompense he may receive from men.
The Memoir may now be continued in Sir Jahleel’s own words, and he thus
describes the journey to Tours. “On the 31st of October we began our
journey, having our route marked out upon my passport, by which we were
prohibited from passing through Paris, but ordered to turn off to the
left at Meaux, and to proceed by Melun, and Fontainebleau, thence on the
right bank of the Loire from Orleans to Tours.”
At Melun it appears that Captain Brenton met Lord Elgin, to whose
character he gives the following pleasing tribute. “It is but justice
to Lord Elgin to mention in this place, that during the whole of
his captivity he was most liberal and active in relieving his poor
countrymen, as they passed near the places of his residence, and by
sending sums of money to Verdun for their use. Whilst he was at Orleans,
numbers of seamen on their way from the coast to the interior, passed
through; in particular the officers and crew of the Wolverine, who all
spoke in the highest terms of his Lordship’s humanity and benevolence.”
It was from Lord Elgin at Melun that Captain Brenton had the
gratification of receiving confirmed and authentic accounts of the battle
of Trafalgar. At Orleans, November, 1805, Sir Jahleel has preserved the
following recollections of his journey. “This was one of the finest and
most charming days we had experienced; the country gradually improving
in fertility, and cultivation, as we approached the Loire, which in its
passage by Orleans, with the numerous villas on its banks as far as the
eye could reach, formed as fine a picture as can be imagined. At Epernay,
the chief depôt for the wine of Champagne, I called upon Mons. Moet, the
great proprietor of this wine. We were all most hospitably received and
entertained by this gentleman. In conversation at table respecting the
use of Champagne in cookery, Madame Moet observed, that she believed
there was not a dish in the first course, in which this wine was not an
ingredient, that the ham was boiled in it, and every other dish had its
portion. At breakfast the following morning I observed that Champagne
was not forgotten even in this meal. The Lady replied that she believed
it was in every thing but the coffee. This was of course a Déjeuner a la
fourchette, and a very sumptuous one. By the time breakfast was over,
the carriage was at the door for us to resume our journey; but M. Moet
requested me to pay a visit to his cellar, before I left Epernay; and the
sight amply rewarded me for the detention. It was of immense extent, the
wine entirely in bottle, to the amount I believe of some hundreds of
thousands, beautifully arranged in tiers, with marble conductors, leading
to reservoirs of the same material, to carry off and receive the wine
from the bottles which burst, a circumstance of very frequent recurrence.
On returning from the cellar I found the ladies were already in the
carriage, and it was with difficulty I could find a place for myself, in
consequence of the packages of the very best champagne which M. Moet had
caused to be placed there. We left Epernay with a very strong impression
of the kindness and hospitality we had received. In the afternoon we
reached Meaux, where we were to pass the night; and on going down to
order dinner, my host received me with a broad grin, and the following
sentence: “Ah monsieur, vous venez de nous rosser un peu sur mer, d’après
les nouvelles.” Captain—“Cela se peut bien.” Landlord—“Oui, mais vous
nous avez pris 21 Vaisseaux de ligne.” Captain—“Bah! vous voulez dire
21 bâtimens marchands.” Landlord—“Non Monsieur. Vingt et un vaisseaux
de ligne, bien comptés—mais vous avez perdu Nelson. Il est tué.” This
was the first intelligence I had received of the battle of Trafalgar,
which however had taken place only on the 21st of October, and this was
on the 4th of November. I did not altogether credit mine host’s news,
and left Meaux the following morning. On my arriving at Melun, about two
o’clock, I met Lord Elgin, who was then residing there as a detenu, who
confirmed the news of a great naval victory having been gained, and the
report that Lord Nelson had fallen; “but,” added his lordship, “I am
in hourly expectation of news from Paris, and as you only go as far as
Fontainebleau to night; I will, as soon as I get my letter, ride over,
and dine with you;” an offer that I gladly accepted. Accordingly his
lordship came by five o’clock, with every particular of the action, at
least as far as the French account went, which was surprisingly accurate.
It was an account sent by merchants at Cadiz, through Bourdeaux to Paris.
A very different statement was soon after concocted for the information
of the French nation, in the columns of the Moniteur. One of Mr. Moet’s
best bottles was opened for Lord Elgin upon this occasion, and our
spirits felt all the triumph of our country. I copied an account of this
battle from the Journal de Paris 16 Frimaire An. xiv. 7 Dec. 1805, which
my brother has inserted in his naval history.
“From Fontainebleau we proceeded through Pithivier to Orleans. At this
place I was amused at the inscription over the inn where we alighted;
ICI L’ON DONNE A BOIRE ET A MANGER
AUX ANGES
A PIED ET A CHEVAL,
and it was at this inn that I determined to give up a practice, which
every Frenchman, and by far the greater part of the English travellers
considered as indispensable; that of making a bargain with the landlord
previous to getting out of the carriage. The instant the question was
put to mine host at Pithivier, his manners changed at once, and he
sulkily replied, “c’est suivant comme vous voulez être servis.” A hard
bargain was made accordingly, for the dinner, ‘la chambre,’ the beds,
the fuel, and the wine. The treaty being concluded, we took possession
of our apartments. A fire was made of light brushwood, which was soon
consumed, and on application for more, we were told that they had given
the stipulated allowance. The dinner was bad, scanty, and ill dressed,
the bed rooms were uncomfortable, and the wine of the most indifferent
description, but there was no redress. We arrived early on the following
day at Orleans, and having no preliminary discussion we were cordially
received, had the best accommodation, and fare in abundance, and of the
best quality; while the difference in the bill the following morning was
only six francs amongst four people.
“We remained here during Sunday, and met some of our fellow prisoners
from Verdun, the family of Mr. Aufrere. From this gentleman I procured
further details of the battle of Trafalgar, even to a list of the
killed and wounded on both sides. The intelligence had been brought
from Cadiz, through Madrid and Bayonne, in a mercantile correspondence,
but was carefully concealed from the public in general. It is certain
that the respectable classes of people in France, by no means took that
lively degree of interest in their national successes, or felt that
mortification for the unsuccessful results of their engagements with the
enemy, which have been ascribed to them at this period; and the reason
is, that under so ambitious a leader, they were aware that every victory
excited some new object for achievement, in consequence of which new
conscriptions were called out, as well to supply recent losses, as to
form additional corps. They consoled themselves under a defeat, in the
hope that it might lead to a peace.”
Among his recollections of Tours, Captain Brenton says, “we here found an
excellent and worthy friend and physician, in Dr. Morgan, who had been
our fellow prisoner at Verdun. He with his amiable wife and little boy,
had been permitted to reside here. From his skill, and the kindness and
attention of his family we derived the greatest comfort and benefit. The
illness of our darling boy (he had been taken ill on the road) continued
for some days to be very alarming; but was at length permitted by a
merciful Providence to give way to the remedies which were administered
to him, and he began to shew symptoms of returning health.”
In addition to the services of Dr. Morgan, it appears that Captain
Brenton had also great advantages in the skill of Dr. now Sir Thomas
Grey. “Under his tender care,” he says, “I had been while at Verdun, and
this gentleman, with his wife and daughter, were amongst the number of
the detenus, and whilst at Verdun our families had become much attached
to each other. I candidly detailed these circumstances in a letter to
the Minister of Marine, expressing how much I should feel gratified, if
this family might also be permitted to reside at Tours; as I knew this to
be their wish. This request was kindly and readily granted, and in the
course of a few weeks our two families were again united at Tours, and no
day passed, without our enjoying each other’s society.
“An occasional gloom would sometimes take possession of me, as I
considered myself shut out from my profession, for which, ever since my
first entrance into it, I had felt an inexpressible ardour. One evening,
when walking the room with Dr. Grey, I said, I felt a conviction that I
was a prisoner for the remainder of the war, and that my naval career
was at an end. He replied, ‘Don’t give way to such feelings; how do you
know, but that you may be exchanged, have the command of a fine frigate,
and take a prize before another year is over.’ I answered smiling, ‘if
that should be the case, Doctor, I promise to give you the Encyclopedia
Britannica.’ And impossible as it seemed to be at the moment, the Doctor
did get that work upon these conditions before the year expired.
“We had procured most comfortable lodgings in the principal street of
Tours, and began to enjoy the happiness we had promised ourselves. We had
perfect tranquillity, no annoyance from the police, or the department
for the controul of prisoners of war. I was only expected to present
myself before the General once in three weeks, and had unrestrained
access to every part of the province. Another attack, however, similar to
what I had experienced at Charni, again filled me with anxiety, and by
having recourse to low diet, I became extremely reduced. The mercy and
forbearance of God, notwithstanding my ungrateful repining, nevertheless
brought me through this illness also. How often have my apprehensions
thus proved vain; and, in how many instances had perfect happiness been
my lot, but for my own groundless fears, which prevented my enjoyment
of it. What a lesson for the remainder of my days! May they at least be
devoted unreservedly, and with the most entire and perfect confidence to
God, in resignation to the Divine will; and let us, my darling children,
in all our worldly anxieties, remember the following beautiful lines in
Young:—
‘What can preserve my life, or what destroy?
An angel’s arm can’t snatch me from the grave,
Legions of angels can’t confine me there.’
O, that this blessed, this most inestimable truth, could but be for
ever on our minds! To what state of happiness should we be instantly
transported, and upon how sure a foundation it would stand! We should
smile at the worst efforts of the world, and we should weep with delight,
as well as grief, at the translation of those dear to us, to a region
of everlasting happiness. The measure of human faith is probably seldom
suffered to arrive at such a height, lest it should deprive us of all
interest in the world, and fill us with impatience for the next.”
On the 16th of January, 1806, Mrs. Brenton gave birth to a daughter,
the one who is so constantly addressed in these notes. Of this period
the following record is preserved. “By the blessing of God, my beloved
companion’s health was soon restored, and the sweet addition to our
little family, was a new source of gratitude, and happiness. How
familiar to my recollection are the scenes of that delightful period. My
own anxieties were now fast wearing away, or only intruded themselves as
the unfavourable symptoms of ill health recurred, which was very seldom.
The confirmed health of our darling boy was more apparent every day,
and he now became peculiarly engaging, and interesting. Although but
three years old, he gave evident signs of great capacity, and we rather
checked, than stimulated the inclination towards learning, which he very
decidedly possessed even at that early age.
“Tours lying on the great road from Bordeaux, Passage, and Rochefort,
to the depôt of the prisoners, we had frequent detachments of our
unfortunate countrymen marching through. Early in the year the officers
and crews of H. M. ships the Calcutta, and Ranger, together with those
of the Belle Packet, which had been captured by the Rochefort squadron,
under Admiral Allemande, arrived at Tours, on their march to the depôt
of Verdun and Arras, to which they were destined. They were all confined
in the common prison, as they had been indiscriminately marched under
the same escort, without any respect being paid to the rank of the
officers, however high. The landlord of the principal inn at Tours,
called upon me late in the evening, to inform me they had just reached
the prison, concluding that I would make an application for the officers
to be liberated on their parole. That _mon hôte_ was not entirely
disinterested, came out, upon our way to the General’s house together.
‘Monsieur,’ said he, ‘il ne faut pas seulement penser a soi. Il y’a
d’autres Aubergistes à Tours, qui voudroient avoir de vos Messieurs chez
eux. Je vous prie donc de me consigner _vingt des_ plus riches, et que
les autres soient partagés parmi mes confrères.’ The General immediately
at my request gave an order to liberate the officers on parole. Joy
resounded at once through the prison, nor were the seamen and marines
without their share of it, as they were immediately supplied with a hot
supper, and had their regular meals during the remainder of their stay
at Tours. Although relief could not be officially given, in consequence
of the prohibition of the French government, this was done by private
contribution, and the expence attending it was subsequently defrayed by
the Admiralty; and the liberality of their country by the remittances
made for their relief, enabled us to procure for them many comforts
at this dreary season of the year, during a winter that was felt very
severely, even in that mild region. This was an additional alleviation to
the sense of our captivity.”
On the 9th of April, 1806, Captain Brenton and his family removed to a
country house near Tours, of which he thus speaks. “This was, indeed a
little paradise to us; a most beautiful situation, on the right bank
of the Loire, very near the bridge of Tours. The house was, in fact,
an excavation made in the solid rock, upon a considerable elevation,
the face and roof only being built with masonry. The approach to it was
by a long flight of steps, ascending through four terraces, on each of
which was a beautiful garden, and on the uppermost level, contiguous to
the house, a delightful grove of trees; surrounding a spacious saloon
distinct from the house. This singular and delightful retreat was
called ‘Les petits Capucins.’ Nothing but the idea of captivity, and
that restless anxiety for worldly prosperity, or to speak more plainly,
that forgetfulness of the inexhaustible goodness of Divine Providence,
and want of confidence in our Heavenly Father, could have prevented my
enjoying perfect felicity there. But ungrateful, and impatient as I
was, I can now recollect with feelings bordering on delight, the many
instances in which I acknowledged my sense of the happiness I enjoyed.
We were now most comfortably fixed in our delightful habitation, but our
peaceful enjoyment was soon unsettled by the prospect of an exchange of
prisoners. The death of Mr. Pitt, which had taken place in January, and
the coalition of parties which had been the consequence, now excited
in the breast of Buonaparte sanguine hopes of being able to negociate
a peace, through the influence of Mr. Fox. For notwithstanding his
rancorous hostility against Great Britain, this had long been his
most anxious wish. England was the only enemy he dreaded. In order to
conciliate Mr. Fox, such of _his_ friends as were prisoners in France,
were immediately released, as well as those, whose liberation was thought
likely to be agreeable to him. Of this number were Lord Elgin, General
Abercrombie, Captain Gower, and some others; and at the same time I
received a letter from Captain Jurieu, a French captain in the navy, who
had been sent over from England, three years before, in exchange for
me, recommending me to make every possible effort to get this exchange
ratified, which he had been unable to do, nor could he procure permission
to return to his captivity in England agreeable to the pledge he had
given. I of course followed his advice, but without success.” On the
11th of June, Captain Coote quitted Tours for England, and “this event,”
Captain Brenton says, “we considered of very great importance. Captain
Coote being a commander, and recently captured, I had every reason to
be sanguine, in the hope that my own liberty was at hand.” On the 23rd
of July, he says, “The fluctuations of hope and fear respecting our
liberation from captivity, had now in a great measure subsided. The
departure of Captain Coote, for England, who had so recently been made
a prisoner, convinced me that the measure was not meant to be general,
for had that been the case, priority of capture would have given me the
preference.” Captain Brenton says, “It was even reported that Buonaparte
had declared he would not consent to my exchange, which was probably the
case. The people of France were as clamorous for peace as they dared
to be, and when the municipality, in grand costume, were parading the
streets, with military music, to announce some of the great victories
gained in Germany, they would exclaim, ‘Eh! voila une autre victoire,
et cela nous donnera une autre conscription.’ When the news of Lord
Lauderdale’s departure from France reached Tours, it was announced in the
theatre; when a person was heard distinctly to say, ‘Cette maudite guerre
done ne finira jamais.’ Such, I believe, was a very general feeling
amongst the inhabitants of France. An increased degree of economy was
manifested by the French Government. The Milan and Berlin decrees were
issued for the prohibition of all trade with Great Britain, and bankers
were even forbidden to discount the prisoners’ bills. Messrs. Peregaux
wrote to me with their usual liberality, informing me of this inhuman
order; but they added, that although they could no longer discount my
bills, yet they begged I would not scruple to draw upon them for whatever
money I might require; and that they should be quite satisfied, that
their account should be settled at the end of the war. The victory gained
by Sir John Duckworth off San Domingo, in which he captured and destroyed
the whole of the French squadron, did not at all contribute to allay the
irritable feelings of the Emperor.
“I therefore felt convinced, from the selection that had been made of
prisoners to be liberated, that Buonaparte had a particular object in
view; that he was courting a party, instead of endeavouring to conciliate
the British Government. This soon proved to be the case. The negociation
was broken off, and the acrimony shewn towards the British prisoners was
greater than ever; all communication with England, even the transfer
of bills, was positively forbidden.” These restrictions do not seem to
have extended to the prisoners at Tours, for, on the 6th of September
Captain Brenton says, “This day was passed in great delight in rambling
over the beautiful grounds of Chanteloup, and visiting the castle of
Amboise. Our darling children were in high health, and my own health in
a great measure restored. We were in possession of every thing to make
us happy and grateful. The autumn was delightful, and we were under no
restraint as prisoners, but permitted to make excursions to every part
of the district. Our society was small but friendly. We had an addition
to our friends by the arrival of Mr. Forbes (probably brother to the
one before mentioned) and Sir H. Titchbourne, with their families, and
had established a social intercourse, which was productive of much
comfort and cheerfulness. In the beginning of November the approach of
winter induced us to change our residence, from the beautiful place we
inhabited, to a more commodious house in the city of Tours, where we
had made up our minds to pass the winter contentedly. All hopes of an
exchange had now subsided; mine were now directed towards a continuance
of the indulgence of being allowed to live at a distance from a depôt;
and from the increased ill humour of Buonaparte towards England, I
had serious apprehensions of more vigorous measures being resorted to
respecting the prisoners. I was under the influence of these feelings,
when one morning returning home I found my beloved Isabella in tears,
and much agitated; she told me a gens d’armes had been in pursuit of
me, requiring my immediate attendance before the General. The visit of
a gens d’armes rarely boded any thing favourable towards a prisoner. I
however endeavoured to preserve my tranquillity, and soothe the anxiety
of your dear mother. I hastened to the General expecting some unpleasant
communication, but to my great surprize and joy, was received with great
cordiality, and these unexpected words, ‘Monsieur, vous n’êtes plus
prisonnier—Je vous en félicite.’ You may easily imagine the effect this
information produced upon me. I ran home in an ecstacy of joy, which
I concluded would have been equally great on the part of my darling
companion. Joy did for a moment glisten in her eyes, for she always
shared in my feelings. She felt a gleam of happiness because she saw me
happy; but a moment’s reflection shewed her the certainty of our being
separated upon our reaching England, by my being employed afloat. She
immediately contrasted the felicity she had enjoyed in France, with
the probability of a long absence from each other, and all its fertile
sources of anxiety and misery. But she was too good and too grateful
to our merciful Benefactor to indulge these feelings long. She soon
became herself again, and sympathized sincerely in my joy. Of her own
feelings on this occasion, the record left by her own pen seems worthy of
insertion.”
“Monday, 25th December, 1806, Morlaix. Left Tours after a truly happy
residence of twelve months. In the course of that time I had the
satisfaction to observe the restoration of the health of two of the
objects dearest to me in the world, and we have been surrounded with
every comfort and blessing but liberty. I failed not to offer up my
thanks to Almighty God daily, for the mercies he so bountifully bestowed
upon me; and now, O heavenly Father, Thou hast called forth my gratitude
on a new subject, by thy merciful goodness, for all good belongeth unto
Thee alone. We have at length obtained the object we so much wished
for. Our captivity has ceased, and through Thy mercy and protection, we
have been enabled to perform a journey of upwards of two hundred miles,
without the smallest accident or delay. My beloved husband and children
have arrived in perfect health, and for myself I can truly say, that I
never enjoyed a greater share. Now, then, O great and merciful Father, I
implore again Thy protection, in the voyage we are about to take at the
present season of the year. Great must be the perils and dangers, but
under Thy Almighty care, I humbly hope and trust we shall be preserved
from them all, and be enabled to reach our own country in health and
safety, and once more enjoy the blessing of finding our friends in health
and happiness. This I beg through Jesus Christ our blessed Lord and
Saviour. Amen.” To this memorandum, Sir Jahleel Brenton subjoins, “Here
my beloved children, is an example of pious gratitude and firm confidence
in the protection of the same Almighty Being, who had always watched
over us. To a common mind the idea of crossing the channel under all the
circumstances in which she was placed, would have been full of terror, a
few weeks only before your birth my dear Charles, in the depth of winter,
and in a small French vessel of only eighty tons. But your mother never
forgot in whose care she was placed. We had a most favourable journey
from Tours to Morlaix, a constant succession of fine weather, and every
comfort in our own possession to make up for the inconveniences on the
road, which were sometimes very great. On our arrival at Morlaix we
hired a small French brig for sixty louis d’ors to take us over. Many
delays and difficulties occurred before we could embark, and when this
point was gained, and we had reached the mouth of the Port, six miles
from Morlaix, a foul wind was likely to detain us. But what seemed to
promise an additional vexation, was a French privateer lying in readiness
to take advantage of the first change; and had she sailed, we should
not have been permitted to follow for the next twenty-four hours, lest
we might convey intelligence respecting her. This circumstance gave me
much anxiety, which I now feel to have been inexcusable considering the
blessings I enjoyed. It kept me frequently on deck during the night; the
wind having suddenly changed, we weighed at dawn of day, and were at sea
before the privateer made any movement. I then considered myself out of
captivity, and I humbly hope I felt the gratitude I so deeply owed to the
Almighty, for His merciful protection of me and mine, during that part
of my life, particularly when I was a prisoner; ‘Let them give thanks
whom the Lord hath redeemed, and delivered them out of the hands of the
enemy.’ Ps. cvii. I felt it worthy of recollection in every subsequent
year, that this delightful Psalm should have been the first which I was
called upon to read to my ship’s company, a very few weeks after my
release, on the first Sunday after my appointment to the Spartan.”
Further particulars of the journey to Morlaix from Captain Brenton’s
notes may here be added.
“Dr. and Mrs. Grey, and their daughter, were included with my own
family in my passport (see the annexed letter from M. Decrés).[11] This
most peculiar instance of kind attention and good feeling, was procured
through the indulgence of the Minister of Marine: through whose kindness
Dr. Grey’s family had been permitted to join us at Tours. Messrs.
Peregaux also availed themselves of this opportunity, to shew that the
kindness and liberality which had been so strikingly evinced at the early
part of my captivity, were unabated. With my passport came a letter from
those gentlemen, containing their warmest congratulations; and stating
that in order to prevent any possibility of delay, they had sent me
one hundred pounds for the expences of my journey, and wishing me all
happiness and success.
“On the 20th December our two happy and united families left Tours
for Morlaix, which we reached on the 27th, passing through La Fleche,
Rennes, Lamballe and St. Brieux. At Lamballe, which we reached late in
the evening, I was informed that a detachment of English prisoners
had arrived, and were in the prison, and that I might see them, if I
went early in the morning, when they were to resume their march for
the interior. At the dawn of day, I was at the prison door, and as the
sailor was opening it, called out in the professional phrase, ‘Yo ho!
shipmates.’ No sooner was the well known expression heard, than one
of the unfortunate inmates exclaimed, ‘If I did not dream I was just
drinking a pot of porter!’ This of course he considered prophetic of his
obtaining some relief; nor was he disappointed, for the hundred pounds
sent by the kind M. Peregaux enabled me to give to each a sum which might
have been a source of comfort for some days; but it is probable, that it
was soon swallowed up by extortion and excess. The money was of course
given on government account.
“On leaving Lamballe, on the road to St. Brieux, I had got out of the
carriage for the purpose of walking up a very steep hill, and on reaching
the top I had lost sight of the carriage, owing to the winding of the
road; I here saw another detachment of unfortunate blue jackets, under
the escort of gens d’armes marching for Lamballe. I hailed them, and
having ascertained to what ship they belonged, I gave to each man the
sum of money I thought I could spare; the escort all this time preserved
rather an unaccountable silence, but when the distribution was over,
accosted me with, ‘A present Monsieur, il faut savoir qui vous êtes; ou
est votre passport?’ This had soon occurred to me, and I recollected
that it was not about me, but in the carriage, which now appeared on the
summit of the hill. This however set all to rights, and the poor sailors
gave three cheers to their countrymen, and pursued their melancholy
journey.
“In the course of a few hours, as we approached St. Brieux, we had from
the top of a very high hill, a view of the deep blue sea, of the English
channel. The effect of this sight upon persons in our situation may be
easier conceived than described; after being shut up for three years
and a half in the interior of France, a far longer period than I had
ever before been separated from my favourite element. Cheers from each
denoted the general joy of the little party at again beholding what we
all regarded as our country’s own domain. On our arrival at St. Brieux,
we met another detachment of English prisoners, but they were officers on
parole. The two parties, the one on their way home, the other beginning
captivity, met together at the table d’hôte; and notwithstanding these
adverse circumstances on the one side, the meeting was gratifying to
both. I was again enabled through Messrs. Peregaux to supply each officer
with the means of performing his long journey with comparative comfort.
“As we left the land the wind freshened, and a heavy sea got up. The
French sailors who had been very earnest in offering their services to
the ladies, and had even given their respective names, that they might be
called upon when wanted, were the first to be prostrated by sea sickness,
the whole eleven men without exception. The Captain alone was unaffected
by the motion of his vessel; and on my suggesting to him the necessity
of the topsail being reefed, as the wind increased, he shrugged his
shoulders with the usual phrase of ‘impossible.’ He however admitted the
necessity of something being done, and having requested me to take the
helm, he managed to lower the topsails on the cap, and as the wind was
well aft, the vessel was able to bear it, and we two shared the helm
between us for that day. In the middle of the ensuing night we had got
over under the Start point, and the wind having got more to the westward,
we found shelter there until daylight; when a beautiful day broke upon
us, and enabled us to reach Dartmouth by eight o’clock in the morning.
Thus ended our captivity on the 29th of December, 1806, having commenced
on the 3rd July, 1803.
“The retrospect gave me much thankfulness in every point of view. It was
a singular circumstance, that on my journey from Bath to Portsmouth, in
June, 1803, one of my companions on the coach was the late Sir Matthew
Blakiston, who mentioned a report (an unfounded one) that the Hazard
Sloop of war, commanded by Captain Neave, had been taken, and carried
into a French Port. I immediately expressed my opinion, that I could
hardly conceive a greater misfortune befalling a professional man; and
that it would be one of the most difficult to support. In less than a
month from that time, I was actually in the very dreaded situation; and
lost by it the command of one of the finest frigates in the Navy, with
all the bright prospects attendant upon such a position, at the first
breaking out of a war, when the ocean is covered by the enemy’s vessels,
and few Captains with such commands fail in making fortunes. But the
wind is tempered to the shorn lamb—the blow to me was, indeed, a severe
one, but I was enabled to support it; and I have since been led to
reflect upon the merciful dispensation which attended the event. It is
very possible, that the effect of the concussion of the brain, which I
had so recently received in the Minerve previously to her capture, might
have disabled me, for the arduous duty attending on the command of a
cruising frigate; and as I had already been indulged by having two acting
Captains appointed to my ship, I could not have expected that a third
would have been allowed; and had I been obliged then to retire on half
pay, with the little interest I possessed, and the deeds of the new war,
throwing into shade the achievements of the last; it is very probable
that I might never have succeeded in getting a ship; but must have
remained, like many of my brother officers, on half pay for the remainder
of my days. I landed as a prisoner in France with the comforting
recollection that no honour had been lost with my ship; that it was one
of the unavoidable occurrences to which all are exposed in the profession
of arms. With these feelings, and gratitude for my protection, under a
fire of such duration, and of so complicated a nature, my mind was kept
in perfect peace.”
At this point of the narrative it may not be irrelevant to introduce some
remarks, which occur in the private memoir, on the state of the British
prisoners in France; in order to place, in its proper point of view,
the general situation of the prisoners, and to consider how far the
charges against the French Government for neglect and cruelty are made
out. “It is an accusation which has been frequently made, and as I have
often given my opinion, not only in conversation, but officially upon the
subject, and as the latter stands upon record, it may be right in this
place to give the sentiments, which I have frequently and deliberately
expressed. But to do complete justice to this subject, and indeed to the
French nation, it is necessary to distinguish between the conduct of
individuals, and the official measures of the French government. In doing
this—under the first head we have a most gratifying task, so numerous
are the instances of benevolence, kindness, and the best of feelings,
manifested towards our suffering countrymen.
“I have already adverted to the singularly generous conduct of M. Dubois
at Cherbourg, of Messrs Perregaux, the bankers, to the benevolence of
Monsieur Parmentier, the Mayor of Phalsbourg, and the kindness and ready
assistance of the French military authorities, at the different depôts;
and I am decidedly of opinion, that had such conduct been sanctioned
and encouraged by the Government itself, there is little doubt but the
situation of the prisoners would have been very different from what
they experienced during the greater part of the war. It will hence be
seen that the French people as a people, were by no means implicated in
the sufferings of our countrymen; but on the contrary, there are very
many instances in which they shewed the kindest feelings towards them;
received them into their houses, when found lame or sick on the road,
and incapable of continuing their march; and when they informed the
nearest brigade of gens d’armes of the circumstance, at once to vindicate
themselves from the charge of harbouring deserters, and to procure
permission for the sufferer to remain undisturbed, until able to continue
his journey. This is the bright side of the picture. The other is of a
very different description. It will be seen that the government allowance
for the support of a prisoner was quite inadequate to the purpose—and
that when administered as it was to them individually in prison, with
no means of purchasing food, but through the abominable suttler,
famine and disease were the unavoidable consequences. Then again, the
arrangement made by the minister of war for the supply of clothes, shoes,
and bedding, were tardy, neglectful, and insufficient; and but for the
exertions of their own officers, many of the prisoners would undoubtedly
have perished in the course of the winter. The places also allotted for
their confinement, were, as has been shewn, quite unfit for the purpose;
often without roofs, containing mud and pools of water, where their straw
was to be deposited for their beds; and with additional abuse attending
the straw, which instead of being delivered fresh from the sheaf, was in
some instances only fit for the dunghill.
“The manner in which prisoners were also marched from the most distant
parts, such as Toulon, and Bourdeaux, and even in many instances from
Genoa, and the ports of the Adriatic, was highly reprehensible in the
government of a civilized country. It is known that the whole of France,
during the late wars, and I believe its dependencies in Europe, were
divided into squares about two leagues each way; and at the intersection
of all the lines forming these squares, or as nearly as possible,
a brigade of gens d’armes was stationed. If a small detachment of
prisoners, not exceeding eight or ten, were to be sent from Toulon for
instance, to Givet in the Ardennes, they were put under escort of two
mounted gens d’armes; were generally handcuffed in pairs, and sometimes
in addition were made fast to each other by a rope, and conducted to
the nearest brigade, in the line of the destined march; and by this
forwarded to the next, in the same manner. At whatever town or village
they were to pass the night, they were generally locked up in the common
prison; from whence they continued the route with the next brigade the
following morning. Left solely to the gens d’armes, it may naturally be
supposed, that the treatment was not always the most humane; although as
has been shewn in the course of these pages, there were many instances
of real kindness and feeling, evinced by these men. But it was too often
the case, that the prisoners being without shoes became so lame as to
be incapable of marching; they were then for some time driven on at
the point of the sabre; sometimes dragged along by being attached to
the horse; and at length, when utterly incapable of proceeding, they
were deposited in the next prison until able to march. These instances,
unhappily, were but too numerous, as the straggling parties of a few
individuals were, from time to time, passed on from the coast to the
interior. One consisting of a Captain in the navy, an officer of marines,
and a private gentleman, who had been taken, coming home passengers
from America, is too remarkable to be passed over. Their names are,
Captain Lyall of the navy, Major Stanser of the marines, and Mr. Palmer,
a private gentleman of Bermuda. They were landed at one of the ports of
the western coast of France; and notwithstanding their rank in life, were
marched in the same manner as common seamen, from brigade to brigade, and
like them confined in the common prison of the place, where they halted
for the night; and upon one occasion, after being placed in the Cachot,
and shewn the straw upon which they had to pass the night, a fierce
mastiff was brought into the place, and the prisoners were told that if
they lay perfectly quiet during the night they would not be molested; but
if they attempted to get up the dog would seize them; and as a proof of
this not being only mentioned to alarm them, whenever they rustled the
straw, the dog began to growl. The situation of the prisoners, during
the long night, may be imagined. Complaint was made of this treatment by
these gentlemen on their arrival at Verdun, but no redress was granted
them.
“No sooner had the prisoners in general been deprived of the assistance
and countenance of their officers, than the old system of suttlers
and wretchedness was renewed, and this state of things, aggravated by
hopelessness, was the lot of the increasing numbers added to the depôts
by successive captures, from 1805 to the end of the war in 1814.”
In committing this record to paper, Captain Brenton states that he
considered he was in the performance of an imperative duty; and, whilst
he expressed the grateful sense of the many acts of kindness, received
from individuals, he felt called upon to substantiate the statement he
has already made, respecting the sufferings of the prisoners, from the
inadequacy of the supplies granted, and the measures adopted by the
French government for the maintenance of those whom the fate of war had
thrown into their hands. It is also much to be wished, that if there were
any just causes of complaint with regard to the treatment experienced
by the French prisoners in England, the charges should be brought
forward in a tangible shape, that they also might be enquired into, and
a remedy applied when necessary. But these must not be such wretched
garbled statements as those of General Pillet, to whose own countrymen
an appeal might be safely made, with the most perfect assurance of their
pronouncing the whole work to be totally untrue. I have endeavoured to
view the question in such a manner, that a judgment might be formed,
as to all its bearings, and I now leave it, in the sanguine hope that
many, many years may elapse, before the two nations are again placed in
relations of hostility against each other; and that should such an event
unhappily recur, they both may have a watchful eye over their prisoners,
considering their honour as well as their conscience pledged to protect
those who can have no other protection.
Captain Brenton, as to the particular cause of his own unexpected
release from captivity, gives in his private memoranda the following
account. “A nephew of Marshal Massena, Captain L’Infernet, had been
taken in the battle of Trafalgar, in the command of the French ship of
the line, L’Intrepide. Massena had been making great efforts to procure
his exchange; but the Admiralty, whilst they expressed their readiness
to accede to this exchange, stated their determination to accept of no
other officer but myself, whom they considered from the priority of my
capture, to be unjustifiably detained in France, whilst other officers
had been liberated, and that without any reason having been assigned for
it. Buonaparte having no reason to believe that our government would
relax from this determination, ordered my passport to be sent to me. It
soon appeared by letters from France, that I had had a very narrow escape
of being detained even at Morlaix. A small package containing copies
of official correspondence, which I had with me in the carriage, and
which was kept uppermost in order to prevent any suspicion, that they
were intended to be concealed; was by accident either dropped from the
carriage, or left at some inn on the road. It was found and forwarded
to the Capital of the Department; where the principal authority, as a
provisional measure, sent off an express to Morlaix to detain me; whilst
the papers were forwarded to the Bureau de la guerre at Paris, where the
order for detention was confirmed. We had however got beyond the Castle
of Morlaix before the order arrived, and had no sooner passed it, than we
felt ourselves safe within the limits of the British Empire.”
This period of the narrative then which includes his captivity in France
is thus closed, and if some details which seem irrelevant, and some
particulars which seem trivial have been introduced, the Editor still
feels that their insertion is justified by the degree in which they
exhibit the character of the subject of the memoir, or unfold the process
by which that character was formed. There can be no doubt, that both to
mind and body, this period of detention was eminently useful; and this
recollection may have a tendency to reconcile others, who, in the course
of war, may be exposed to a similar calamity, to the present privations
of their lot, by considering its general consequences, and its final
effects. In the case of Sir Jahleel Brenton it is but too probable, that
if this long interval of forced repose had not occurred, his constitution
would never have recovered from the effects of the accident he suffered,
while fitting out the Minerve; and that the excitement of active service
would have destroyed a system so shattered as his was. It is still more
probable, that active employment in his profession, whether successful or
unsuccessful, would have prevented much of that moral improvement, that
growth in grace and knowledge of the Lord Jesus, which we have seen going
on silently and gradually in the retirement of his captivity.
That he would have been under other circumstances, a man whom the world
would have admired, a noble minded, liberal, benevolent and gallant
officer, is certain; but that he would have grown into the reality of
the Christian character, that he would have learnt the state of his own
heart, and his need of a Saviour; that he would have felt the real value
of the Gospel, and known it to be the power of God unto salvation in them
that believe, is more than questionable. We may therefore admit, that
God in mercy withdrew him from labours for which he was unfit, and from
delusions which could not have been resisted; and placed him for a time
in a situation, where body and mind were to regain their healthy tone;
and where the means for more extensive usefulness were to be acquired.
But captivity is a bitter trial to an ardent and ambitious spirit; and
we cannot doubt that there were moments, when the iron entered into his
soul, and the necessity of submitting to a lot which extinguished all his
hopes, was a severe burden to a faith as yet but imperfectly developed.
In many instances likewise we have seen that the bitterness of captivity
was aggravated by the treatment the prisoners were exposed to, and the
oppression they suffered; and each of these cases must have provoked
the indignant feelings of officers, who were conscious of deserving the
respect even of their enemies.
There were however bright exceptions, and these exceptions deserve the
more notice as they occurred in decided opposition to the spirit of the
government, and probably would have provoked the displeasure of the
Emperor, if he had become acquainted with them; and his displeasure
generally found prompt and ample means for exhibiting itself.
Among the individuals to be named with respect on this account is M.
Decrés, the Minister of Marine. Intimately associated as he was with
the government, he always seems to have attended to the representations
made by Captain Brenton, and to have made every exertion in his favour
that could have been expected. M. Decrés at the moment probably
yielded to the sympathy which one brave man has for another, and gladly
alleviated, according to his opportunities, the sufferings of an officer
whose gallantry entitled him to respect; but he did not foresee that
the kindness he shewed to a British officer, was to be the occasion of
multiplied kindnesses to his own countrymen; and that many a French heart
was to be gladdened by the consolations he procured for a single English
one.
The Editor therefore feels great pleasure in inserting here extracts
from some familiar letters written at a later period, which shew how the
circumstances of this captivity were remembered, and the way in which the
courtesies of M. Decrés were requited.
“SPARTAN, OFF TOULON, NOV. 3, 1807.
“… You may remember how determined I was to wreak my vengeance
upon the whole nation. At Malta I was senior officer, and I
found a number of French prisoners. I did not exactly order
them to the Appel twice a day, as used to be the case with
us at Verdun. A colonel had been taken with all his family a
few days before, and had lost his wife at sea, leaving him
with three dear little infants. You may stare, but I gave him
leave to return to France with his family and his physician.
This I meant as a small token of remembrance to M. Decrés,
but firmly resolved that all the others should remain until
all our friends at Verdun were liberated; but like other good
resolutions this was not a lasting one. A deputation of captive
ladies waited upon me. ‘Messieurs les Anglais, sont des gens
pleins d’honneur, qui ne font jamais la guerre aux femmes
ni aux enfans.’ ‘Eh de grace, Mesdames retournez dens votre
patrie, je ne vous empêche pas.’ ‘Hélas, mon Commandant, sans
mon Mari? Le deserterai je dans le malheur? Que deviendrai’
je, s’il succombe sous le poids de l’adversité? Sa Santé est
chancelante, et Monsieur n’ignore pas la douceur d’être dans
le sein de sa famille.’ ‘Madame, je me rends, a vos raisons,
partez vous et votre mari.’ ‘Et le mien aussi Monsieur? Vite,
vite; allez, allez!’ In this manner I was coaxed out of a
dozen; they all set out vowing eternal gratitude,” &c.
* * * * *
“SPARTAN, OFF TOULON, AUGUST 8.
“… On Friday we had one of the prettiest sporting days I ever
remember. A frigate came out of Toulon with a convoy, and we
gave chase to her. She ran between the Hieres Islands, round
Cape Taillet, and into the gulf of Grimaud, where she anchored
under the citadel of St. Tropez, and escaped. We however cut
off two of her convoy, and were very near getting hold of
a man of war brig, but the breezes failed us. I landed all
my prisoners with their property, charmed as they said, ‘De
l’honnêteté de M. le Commandant de la frégate, et qu’ils ne
manqueroient pas d’en faire une mention honourable au préfet
maritime de l’arrondissement.’ I told them they might thank M.
Decrés for it, for his attention to me, and I hope he will hear
of it, as I shall never forget his kindness.”
War no doubt is a great evil, but when war is carried on in this spirit
it loses something of its sufferings, and much of its horrors; and one
may be forgiven for dwelling with pleasure on those gleams of light which
kindness of heart and liberality cast across the dark and melancholy
period of those protracted hostilities.