Chapter VII (2)

Captain Brenton remarks, “Mr. Forbes had been detained as a prisoner in France, with many more of his countrymen, whilst on his travels; but he was liberated at the instance of Sir Joseph Bankes, to whom he was known. Buonaparte wishing to be considered the friend and patron of literary men, and this gentleman being known to have collected materials for a very considerable work upon India, which has since been published, he was glad to take the opportunity of evincing his respect for science by granting to Sir Joseph Bankes, and in favour of a man of letters, what he would have yielded to no other application.

“Mr. Forbes was a worthy pious man, who took much delight in relieving the sufferings of his poor countrymen, who were in captivity with him. Upon his liberation, we formed the most sanguine hopes that our own would speedily follow. He shewed great kindness in charging himself with letters and presents for our dear friends in England: and promised to deliver them in person; a promise which he most punctually performed. It was indeed a great source of comfort to both of us, that this opportunity of corresponding was granted. Under any other circumstances, I should be guilty of unpardonable vanity, in transcribing the observations contained in the memoranda of this day; but, you my beloved children will read them, as coming warm from the heart of your angelic mother; dictated by that ardent affection, which was, if possible, increasing in both of us, during the whole of our union.” “A considerable period,” he adds, “elapses from this time, in which I can find no journal. It may have been lost, as in many other instances; or probably was not written, from the state of suspense in which we were constantly kept on both sides respecting an exchange. Alternate hopes and fears were excited by the rumours of the day. I had carried on a correspondence upon the subject, with the Minister of Marine, M. Decrés, who expressed in his letter a wish for the establishment of a cartel, which seemed to be retarded, more from punctilio than from any real obstacle. Buonaparte himself appeared by this time to have considered the measure of making hostages of the travellers, in a much less advantageous light than it had presented itself to his mind at first.

“Under these impressions I indulged the hope that were any considerable effort made in England, by persons in power, it might be attended with success. I therefore urged my beloved Isabella to write to the first Lord of the Admiralty in her own name, and her own words, and to urge a further official application. This she did, doubtful, and as it appears almost despairing of success, but anxious to leave nothing undone, which it was in her power to do, particularly when it had been suggested by me. But in this, as in every other act of her exemplary life, she recommended her cause to the power and protection of the Almighty, and with the most delightful resignation, placed all her hopes in him. The application was unavailing. Buonaparte tenaciously insisted upon the Hanoverians, and detenus being first exchanged, against the French prisoners taken in the beginning of the war. This sacrifice we could not expect our country to make, and the preservation of its dignity, even reconciled us to a further captivity. We felt, and appreciated the motive.”

Referring to the memoranda of October the 29th, 1804, Captain Brenton writes, “The apprehensions of our kind friends made them too solicitous respecting the consequences, to allow them to excite any sanguine hopes on either side. They rather seemed to recommend resignation, and acquiescence in what seemed to be unavoidable; and my hopes by this time had entirely vanished. From the tenor of my last letter from the Minister of Marine, I had been convinced that all prospect of an exchange of prisoners, had now become more remote than ever; and I immediately turned my thoughts towards making my captivity as light as possible, by associating with it what was dearest to me in the world. I determined to call for my beloved wife and child, and to take advantage of those blessings, which a most bountiful Providence had bestowed upon me; to enjoy them with gratitude; to resign myself to the Divine will; and to remain in peaceful expectation of the hour, when God might be pleased to liberate me. This plan had often suggested itself to me, but I deferred acting upon it, until I should be justified by having made every effort to procure my liberty. Having failed in these, M. Decrés, the Minister, had the kindness to forward my wishes to the utmost of his power, by sending me not only a passport for my family, but letters of recommendation for my beloved wife to wait her arrival at Rotterdam. Having once allowed such a prospect of happiness to present itself to my mind, I no longer gave captivity a moment’s consideration; but counted the days to the return of spring, when I might recommend my darling Isabella to begin her journey. I had travelled sufficiently as a prisoner to know that there was neither risk nor difficulty in the undertaking; and I depended upon that benignant and merciful Power, who had so often supported us, to continue His gracious mercy and protection to my beloved wife and child.”

That this meeting between the husband and the wife who came to share his captivity, was happily effected, is recorded in the note, affixed to the memoranda of New Year’s Day, 1806. “We were permitted to meet early in this year; and to pass it, I may almost say, in perfect happiness. Such at least it appears, although we had great trials in consequence of the ill health of our darling child, as well as from my own indisposition. I was attacked, in the course of the summer with a complaint upon the lungs, which to me wore a most threatening aspect. I however concealed from my dear suffering and anxious companion the most serious symptom, which was spitting of blood; and I believe she never knew it for many years afterwards, nor until I had regained perfect health, and till her’s, still more valuable to me, was menaced by the same alarming indication. I then gladly told my secret, as well to comfort my beloved invalide, as to excite my own hopes. Our dear boy also was attacked, whilst travelling with us towards Tours, with a dropsical complaint, which for some time threatened his life. How little did I think that I should have lived to weep over them both. In one short month they were both taken from me.”

Captain Brenton has left some details of his wife’s journey, which as being made through an enemy’s country, under such very peculiar circumstances, are not without interest. He says, “The vigour and energy of mind displayed by my angelic wife, were the theme of praise to all who knew her. Naturally timid and fond of retirement, her habits of life were but ill adapted to the exertion and resolution, which this journey, performed under such formidable circumstances, required. But prompted by her affection for me, and by a sense of duty, she placed herself under the care of her Divine Protector, and was immovably fixed in her purpose, incapable of being deterred by any consideration of personal risk or suffering. Even in her anxiety for her beloved child, she was supported by the same sense of piety, and confidence in the blessing of God upon her virtuous efforts; and the blessing of God attended her through life in all she did.

“My brother was at this time commanding the Amarantha, and most providentially lying at the Nore. He had been alarmingly ill, and was still in a state of great weakness; but he was all activity for the comfort and assistance of my beloved Isabella; who with her boy, and your dear aunt Mary, had embarked in a small Prussian vessel, which was hired to take them to Rotterdam. There they were most kindly received by the respectable persons to whom letters of credit and introduction had been sent, and they there also received assurances of my welfare. In your dear Aunt Mary your beloved mother had a most affectionate and active companion, as her knowledge of the French language, and the energy of her mind rendered her peculiarly well qualified for such a journey. The fears that had been excited in England, at the necessity of travelling through hostile armies, vanished entirely as the ladies proceeded; and they found the road even better protected in consequence of the vicinity of the great French army, and of the number of gens d’armes patrolling in every direction to prevent desertion. Let this part of your beloved mother’s character, which stimulated her to so much exertion, in what she considered the cause of affection and duty, be treasured up, my darling children, for your imitation. Pay a due regard to the advice of your friends, but at the same time bring your own judgment into exercise. Compare the probabilities which may threaten you, with the nature of the duty you have to perform. Pray ardently to God that He would be pleased to direct you in your decision; and then, should the object you have in view appear to be sanctioned by duty, let no circumstance arising from other considerations shake your resolution. ‘Reflect, ponder, and resolve.’ Let this be your motto, and be inflexible in every good purpose. How much happiness should we mutually have lost, had my beloved companion been deviated from her purpose, by an apprehension of danger, which she afterwards found did not exist, or had she possessed less confidence in her Heavenly Protector. In reviewing the different events of our lives, we shall always find cause to regret having allowed the consideration of present convenience and comfort to preponderate, against what conscience had placed before us, as a duty. The same principle of resolution which your exemplary mother evinced, in the exercise of her affection for me, would on greater occasions lead to the most heroic, or the most splendid actions. These always, and only originate in right motives, inflexibly acted upon, to the utter exclusion of all minor considerations. But at the same time, you must never forget, that the object thus unremittingly pursued, should be paramount to all others, and be sanctioned by religious, as well as moral obligations.”

I regret that the only memoranda I have found of this interesting journey, are merely the names of the places, with the period of arriving at each. They are as follows:—

“Thursday, April 16th, sailed from England for Holland.

“18th, arrived at Rotterdam after a passage of fifty-two hours.

“20th, left Rotterdam, took a carriage from thence to Antwerp,
crossed to Williamstadt, slept at Breda.

“21st, arrived at Antwerp.

“22nd, arrived at Brussels.

“23rd, left Brussels for Namur.

“24th, arrived at Namur.

“25th, left Dinant, passed through Givet, and the forest of
Ardennes, and arrived at Mezieres. Friday, April 26th, hired
another carriage to take us to Sedan, or to Verdun, in case
of not meeting my beloved Brenton; but heaven allowed me to
enjoy that supreme happiness, and I thought no more of the
fatigues of the journey. Grant, O most merciful God, that I may
never cease to feel a proper sense of Thy goodness, however
impossible it must be for me to express half the gratitude I
feel for Thy continued proofs of mercy, and favour, to myself
and all dear to me.

“Saturday, the 27th, slept at Stenay, and arrived at Verdun on
Sunday the 28th.”

These memoranda may appear unimportant, and irrelevant to the subject of our present biography; but yet they seem to justify Captain Brenton in having planned a journey, which, by those less deeply interested, might have been condemned as being too full of peril, and involving too much hardship to the object of his affection. His wife’s example may also serve to animate some drooping spirits placed under similar circumstances; and if it be true, as no member of the Church of England will deny, that matrimony was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity; we cannot but feel that the purposes of this merciful ordinance were singularly realised in the case before us. His own grateful reflections on the subject, are thus further expressed. “Our meeting was indeed one of pure, and unmixed felicity. My beloved wife forgot in a moment all her fatigue, and anxieties; and the recollection of captivity itself was instantly banished from my thoughts, or if I remembered it at all, it was as a blessing which brought me the happiness I enjoyed. I had been long impatiently expecting this joyful event, and the evening before had received a letter from my beloved wife, informing me of her arrival at Rotterdam. I was then living in the little village of Clermont, a few miles distant from Verdun. On this notice reaching me, I requested permission of the General to go as far as Sedan, to meet my family, which was kindly granted. On my road I was most anxiously examining every carriage as it approached. At sunset I had got within three miles of Sedan, and had begun to give up all hopes of seeing the object of my wishes; when I espied a travelling carriage, I felt a presentiment that it contained all I held most dear in the world, and was soon convinced of it.

“We only stopped one day at Verdun, and then removed to Clermont, where we passed some days in perfect happiness. The distance however from Clermont to Verdun was too great for convenience, as the village afforded but few requisites for a family, and I was also frequently called upon in behalf of the prisoners. I therefore procured a lodging at Charni, a little village on the Meuse, about two miles from Verdun, in a most commodious house, with a very respectable family.” Of the events of the following year, which was passed in captivity, we can only find any account by referring to the memoranda and notes, out of which the following extracts have been taken.

In reference to Charni, Captain Brenton says, “Our retreat here was a most delightful one, in a spacious mansion belonging to Monsieur de Beaumont, who was of an ancient and noble family. We had an excellent suite of apartments, and the use of an extensive garden. The season of the year was particularly delightful; and every thing for some time conspired to make us enjoy as much felicity as human nature is capable of doing. If I had not entirely forgotten that I was a prisoner, I ceased to feel the pressure of captivity, and was resigned to my lot. An anxious thought of being deprived of the active exercise of my profession would now and then intrude, but it was soon dispelled in the recollection of the happiness I enjoyed. This however received some interruption a short time afterwards, from my health being seriously attacked. I had caught a cold, which in the month of June brought on spitting of blood. I hope the precaution I took of concealing this alarming symptom from my beloved companion, rendered her apprehensions less dreadful to her; but I allowed my own mind to be extremely depressed. I considered a rapid decline to be the inevitable consequence; and the thoughts of my dear and helpless family, left unprovided for, and unprotected, in a foreign land, and in an enemy’s country, preyed upon my spirits with a force that I cannot describe. It is unknown to all but myself, how many hours of dreadful anxiety I suffered on this account, and indeed on my own; for these very feelings prove that I was not prepared for death; that I was but a nominal christian. So blind, and worldly minded I was, that I derived no comfort from the assurances given in every part of scripture, of the mercy and goodness of God. I could not then comfort myself by resigning all I held dear into the hands of that Bountiful Creator, who gave them to me. I felt as though their happiness depended upon my sole exertions; and that without me they must be destitute. It is this way of thinking, this practical want of faith, disguise it as we may, which is the cause of all our anxiety, and even of all the misery we meet with. It could not exist, were we as sensible, as we persuade ourselves we are, of the Omnipotence, and the Omnipresence, and the merciful goodness of God. Often have I tried to reason myself into this firm trust and confidence in the Divine mercy, but the sick bed, the dear disconsolate widow, and the unprotected infant were objects, which with all my efforts, I could not look beyond; and yet, I should have thought the greatest injustice had been done me, if any one at the time had called in question the sincerity of my religious profession. I felt as though I were living in a general, if not a constant practice of its duties. How little do we know ourselves, till the day of trial comes. I could read treatises upon patience and resignation with the most cordial concurrence in every argument; and even wonder that they were not universally efficacious; but when called upon to practice what they prescribed, I found I was indeed living without God in the world. I did not dare to impart these wretched feelings to my beloved and inestimable wife, in the apprehension of affecting her, and thus I lost the balm of her affectionate counsels.

“The attack which I experienced, would, I am now convinced, have been of little importance, but for the effect I allowed it to have upon my mind. This aggravated its force, and it soon assumed so serious an appearance as threatened to realize all my apprehensions. What a lesson is this for you, my dear children, to teach you the folly as well as the wickedness of worldly anxiety. How often do the evils we dread never reach us; whilst the blow which humbles us comes from a quarter where we least expected it. Even the events, which seem to menace us with some serious calamity, frequently become instruments of good to us. Nearly thirteen years have now elapsed since this period; and instead of the evil I foreboded, my health has probably been strengthened and preserved, by the care and precaution which that illness rendered necessary. It was the cause of my removing from Verdun to the interior of France, to the most delightful climate, where I soon nearly recovered. All my apprehensions were groundless. I was mercifully preserved to those so justly dear to me, and preserved by a gracious Providence to be the humble instrument of their future welfare.

“It was impossible to enjoy greater advantages than we possessed, in the retired village of Charni, during the summer months; and I avoided the bustle and constant interruption, which I met with at Verdun from various quarters. We had some excellent and valuable friends, in whose society we found much gratification; their habits were similar to our own; with them we lived on terms of the kindest intimacy, and avoided, by having this residence, the necessity of keeping up an intercourse with others who found enjoyment only in society of a very different description. As the autumn however approached, we thought it necessary to remove into Verdun, as Charni was too low for a winter residence. We continued to live in retirement, as my health was too weak to admit of my entering into evening parties, and it was with great difficulty that I could prevail upon my beloved and excellent companion to leave me only for a few hours. Even the change from Charni to Verdun was beneficial to me. The progress I made towards recovery was very apparent, and my mind being consequently relieved, I was in a great measure restored to happiness. The mercy and goodness of God has visited me through life, in a very remarkable manner; and this ought to excite the warmest gratitude, and the most entire resignation to all He should in future require of me.

“One other circumstance at this period occurred most providentially, which relieved me from much anxiety. My pecuniary circumstances had always been far from affluent. The loss of my ship just fitted out; the necessity of keeping two houses; and the other unavoidable expences of my situation, had exhausted the little which I had made in the late war. At this time I received two sums most opportunely, namely £468, prize money from Genoa, of which I had given up all hopes; and nearly £400 as a remuneration from the Admiralty for the charge I had taken of the prisoners. This materially increased our comforts; but the circumstance derived its chief value in the estimation of my angelic wife, from the effect it produced in tranquillizing my mind. To please and obey her God; to share in, or contribute to the happiness of those dear to her, was the great and invariable object of her life. She thus gave additional charms to prosperity itself, by the delight she took in the joy of all around her: but how often have I felt her sweet influence of still greater value in cheering me under the pressure of adversity.

“In order to re-establish my health entirely, I was anxious to remove into a milder climate; I was also very desirous of procuring a residence for my family, at a distance from the general depôt, where much of the society was very exceptionable, and where we were constantly unsettled, by the multitude of reports daily in circulation, suggested without any foundation by the hopes and fears of our fellow prisoners, or from mere idleness. With this view I solicited permission to pass the winter at Tours. The Minister of Marine, M. Decrés again stood my friend, and after some delay, in consequence of Buonaparte being at Berlin, he at length succeeded, and informed me in the kindest manner of my request being granted. We made our preparations with almost as much pleasure, as though it had been for a journey to England. I employed myself during the remainder of our stay at Verdun, in concluding all my affairs relative to the prisoners at that depôt. The French government had recently forbidden any further supplies being given to the British prisoners, by their own country; declaring that each nation should support its own prisoners. The fact was, that whilst the Englishmen were so liberally provided for by their own government, there was no hope of inducing them to desert; and all intrigues carried on by the French to seduce them from their allegiance proved fruitless. In consequence of this new arrangement, my presence was no longer necessary at Verdun. I settled all my affairs relative to the prisoners, and this was rendered less complicated by an order recently issued by the French Government, that all supplies sent from England to her people should cease, and each nation support their own prisoners. I had nothing therefore now to do, but to close my accounts previous to my departure. The situation of the prisoners of inferior rank, became in consequence wretched in the extreme. They were now deprived of the comforts to which they had been accustomed; they neither saw nor heard of their officers; they knew nothing of the continued solicitude of their truly paternal government, and of the efforts it had made in their behalf. All hopes of exchange had died away, and complete despair seemed to have taken possession of the sufferers. Numbers attempted to make their escape, and some few succeeded; but many were intercepted and cruelly treated; whilst additional measures of severity were adopted to prevent further attempts at desertion. All who were taken at this time, were sent off, as close prisoners to the fortress of Bitche, and confined in the dark and gloomy souterrain. It was at this time that Mr. Wolfe, finding that the principal objects of his solicitude, the children, were all removed to the distant depôts, and that none would be permitted to reside at Verdun, came forward in a manner most creditable to himself, as a volunteer to reside at Givet, a depôt in which there were twelve hundred prisoners, but no officers. He was aware that he must deprive his family of all the advantages they possessed of comfort and society at Verdun, and subject them to many privations; but this excellent man did not hesitate, whatever sufferings or inconveniences might await him, to put in execution a resolution which was made in the hope of being instrumental to the temporal and eternal welfare of his suffering countrymen.”