Henry Raikes

JOURNEY PROM CHERBOURG.—KINDNESS OF M. DUBOIS.—AND ARRIVAL AT EPINAL.

A circumstance occurred previous to the prisoners beginning their march, which cannot be too generally known; as it does great honour to an individual amongst our enemies, and is one of the many acts of kindness shewn by the inhabitants of France, to the prisoners passing through the country, where the general feeling was by no means so hostile to the English, as is too frequently supposed. Hostility to this country was almost entirely confined to the military in France.

The length of the journey they had to perform, rendered the prisoners very solicitous about their pecuniary concerns, particularly as no person at Cherbourg would discount their bills. Captain Brenton, in order to increase his stock, offered his watch for sale at a watchmaker’s, who would give him only five guineas for it, though the watch was made by a first rate maker, and was of gold. He consequently left the spot with some indignation. Whilst standing at the door of the Auberge a little while after, he was addressed by a person who wished to know, if he had not a watch to dispose of. Captain Brenton expecting a similar offer to the last, answered, “Yes, but you will not buy it.” The stranger replied, “That is more than you know, let me see it.” Upon examining the watch, he asked the original price of it, and being told thirty-one guineas; he said, “Were I to buy your watch, I would only give fifteen guineas; but as I only mean to take it in pledge, I will let you have twenty-five.” Captain Brenton, surprised at so novel a mode of making a bargain, said laughing, “You are an honester fellow than I took you for; give me the money, and take the watch.” The stranger’s name was M. Dubois, a merchant of L’Orient. He came back in a few minutes, saying, “Sir, I shall never forgive myself for having accepted a pledge from an officer suffering from the fortune of war. Take back the watch and give me your note of hand.” This being done with due acknowledgments on the part of Captain Brenton, M. Dubois again left him, and in a short time again returned with twenty-five louis more, saying, that he had been examining his purse, and found that he had that sum more than was necessary to carry him to L’Orient, and begging that he would accept of that also. He then deposited it on the table, destroying the former note of hand; and requesting that another might be made out to include both sums. Captain Brenton in his additional remarks on the subject of the watch, says, “Each time that M. Dubois, the kind merchant returned, he exclaimed, “Monsieur, ma conscience me pique,” striking his breast; and the last time exclaiming, “Ma conscience me pique encore.” I observed that it must be a most unreasonable conscience, not to be satisfied with what he had done; but he rejoined, “No, Sir, I ought not to have taken any security from you.” Captain Brenton adds, “I am happy to say that in the course of this war very many instances occurred of great benevolence shewn towards the British prisoners in France; and in those cases where they experienced harsh or cruel treatment, it almost always arose from military power having been obtained by men, whose only recommendation was their bravery, and who had no kind feelings to temper it; but these instances were rare.”

It seems due to this excellent man, M. Dubois, whose singular kindness and generosity alleviated the first bitternesses of captivity for the captain and crew of the Minerve, to add a letter, which proves that the act in question was not the sudden impulse of excited feeling on contemplating their unhappy lot; but that it was part of a character in which tenderness and sympathy with suffering predominated habitually.

The seamen and marines of the Minerve began their march for Epinal on the 8th of July; and the officers on the following day. The sufferings of the former, unprotected by their officers during this long march, were extreme; assailed as they were by fatigue, hunger, and every privation. The officers upon leaving the coast were accompanied only by three gens d’armes, who treated them with every respect. They received notice of the place which should terminate the day’s march, and made parties for performing the journey without any restraint from their guards. They, at the same time, shewed themselves deserving of such confidence by the strictest compliance with the directions they had received, and the utmost regularity of conduct.

On the third day they reached St. Lo, a military arrondisement, commanded by General Dellegorgue, an officer who had served in Egypt, and who fully appreciated British valour and British honour. He treated the prisoners with the most marked attention; and indeed the hospitality evinced by the inhabitants of St. Lo was such as to merit particular notice.

Captain Brenton’s notes have left some further particulars of this march, and of the two days at St. Lo. He says, “All was now preparation for the march, which was to commence on the 8th of July. The youngsters were all animation and glow; their spirits were buoyant; and feeling convinced that their detention would be short, they had made up their minds to enjoy the events of the day, without care and without regret. They knew that their term of service would go on in the same manner as though they were at sea; and they looked forward to the time, when they might return to their profession with much to relate, and the advantage of having acquired at least some portion of the French language. Early on the ninth we left Cherbourg, and having ascended the hill, took our last farewell of the poor old Minerve, lying dismantled in the harbour. The first day’s march brought us to Valogne, a distance of fifteen miles. The weather was beautiful, as was the scenery; and we quite enjoyed the release from the confinement of the Auberge. The ship’s company had gone on the preceding day; and subsequently during the whole course of the march to our ulterior destination, the officers arrived in the evening at the place which the seamen and marines had left in the morning. On the second day we reached Carentan; and on the third came in sight of St. Lo, a beautiful little town on the slope of a hill. This place, we had been given to understand, was to be our residence, and we rejoiced to find it possessed of so many advantages.

“On entering the town I was conducted by the gens d’armes to the General, and was received by him with all the urbanity and kindness possible. He invited me to dine with him, and to bring my first lieutenant. This officer being unwell, the second took his place. We had an elegant little repast, and every possible attention shewn us. At the commencement of the dinner I observed my lieutenant to evince a slight sign of disgust. I asked the reason; and he replied, ‘They are frogs, Sir.’ The General asked what the officer said, and on being told, was much amused at the idea so prevalent among Englishmen, and especially English sailors, that much of the French diet consists of frogs. In the course of our conversation, I expressed my gratification that St. Lo should have been made the place of our confinement. The General replied, that he regretted much that there should be any disappointment, but that he had received orders for the prisoners to march on to Epinal; and that a military escort had been sent to conduct them to Caen, the capital of Calvados, the department we were then in: and that we were to proceed on our route the next day but one. On the 14th of July the prisoners were assembled, and consigned to the custody of an officer of cavalry. General Dellegorgue was present on this occasion, and when the prisoners were ready to march, he came up to me, and embraced me in the warmest manner; wishing me a speedy release from this captivity, and health, and happiness. This interview was highly amusing to the young midshipmen, who had never before witnessed such a demonstration of cordiality. One of them was heard to exclaim, ‘See, the French General kissing our skipper;’ the familiar name by which the Captain is designated when spoken of by the youngsters.

“According to the regulations of the march, the prisoners were billeted separately upon the houses of the inhabitants. Upon repairing thither to their beds at night, they found a supper prepared, and the friends of the family invited to assist in entertaining the captive guest: nor did it end here. The following day was to be one of repose, and the march was postponed until the next. A dinner and supper was provided in the same manner; and on the morning of departure, at sunrise, breakfasts were prepared; nor could these worthy people be prevailed upon to receive any indemnification for the trouble and expence they had incurred. From St. Lo the escort was strengthened by the addition of a party of cavalry, and the prisoners were marched in ranks, from which none were suffered to deviate; an inconvenience greatly felt, when compared with the indulgence they had received at first; the more so, as it confined them to the middle of the road, covered them with dust from the horses, and kept them on too quick a pace for such a march, and in so sultry a season.”

On arriving at Caen, Captain Brenton complained to the General of such restriction being imposed on officers, who had given their parole of honour. This General was the very reverse of the last; and he replied in a brutal manner, “Je me moque de votre parole d’honneur. Je ne sais pas ce que c’est, moi.” Captain Brenton replied, “I will describe it to you. It is (with a British officer) stronger than any prison you have in France.” The General threatened to take from them their parole, but he did not put his threat in execution. After leaving Caen the restrictions gradually increased, and at length the prisoners, upon arriving at Bernay, were shut up in one room, with sentinels at the door; the commander of the escort, at the same time, offering to order every accommodation the inn could afford to be brought to them; an offer which was disclaimed with disdain, unless they should be treated differently. The commanding officer of the party then shewed Captain Brenton his instructions from General ——; which were to guard his prisoners with the utmost severity and vigilance, as well on the march as in the towns where they should stop; and to grant them no indulgences on his peril. He however said he felt so strongly the injustice that had been done them, that, if Captain Brenton would be responsible for their conduct, they should enjoy the same indulgence as when they began their march. This was a condition he gladly accepted, and which was productive of all the comfort of which their situation was susceptible. The worthy man who thus promoted the comfort of the poor prisoners is now no more, and consequently is out of the reach of the resentment of his General. The remainder of their journey was performed with ease; and they reached Epinal on the 12th of August, where they found their unfortunate shipmates, who had arrived the preceding day. Some were in the hospital, and the remainder in rags, and starving from the small quantity and bad quality of their provisions. It is due to the liberality of M. M. Peregaux to observe here, that in reply to a letter from Captain Brenton, written from Pontoise, requesting them to send his drafts, and those of his officers, to England for acceptance, and when honoured to remit the amount to Epinal; that those gentlemen sent three hundred louis d’or to Captain Brenton at St. Denis, and an order for four hundred more upon Epinal; with offers of as much as they wished to draw for under Captain Brenton’s endorsement.

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.

It is more than probable that Captain Brenton was but one of many in his cheerful submission to his lot, as he was but one of many who experienced the same misfortune during the war; and that the same discipline of mind led to the same patience under trial in cases of which we know nothing. But his circumstances it will be admitted were peculiar; and it seems unquestionable that some higher influence than that of the causes referred to, is necessary in order to account for the calmness of mind he exhibited during the action, and for the cheerfulness which he displayed at the commencement of his captivity. Temperament might have done much, but in naming temperament, it seems fit to remind the reader of the shock which his bodily system had experienced by the accident that occurred, while the Minerve was fitting out. Concussion of the brain too often leaves long and melancholy marks of the injury sustained by that most delicate of all the elements which form the body. His professional zeal we have seen had led him to anticipate the moment of recovery, and to go to sea before he was capable of enduring the fatigues of service. Reluctantly, and under a conviction of the absolute necessity of repose, he had once left his ship and gone ashore; and when at last he resumed his command, and sailed from Portsmouth for the coast of France, it is obvious that he could hardly have been fit for service: and that it was the spirit of the man which at that moment raised him above the infirmities of the body. That in such a state of health he should have undergone the trial of such a night, as that on which the Minerve was lost; that he should have developed such a variety of resources for the purpose of rescuing the ship from the position into which she had run; that he should have met each crisis in the action, with such firmness and self-possession, is sufficiently wonderful. It is equally surprising, that after the excitement of the defence was over, he should have borne the fatigues and humiliations of the march without sinking under them; and I can not but think, that any one who takes all into consideration, will come to the conclusion, that much which seems admirable, much of that which seems surprising in his conduct; cannot be accounted for through temperament or natural energy. I believe it must be referred to that habitual reliance on God, which had been instilled into his mind in childhood, which had been retained through all the trials of his youth; which if it had not grown, as it might have done, had never been obliterated or lost; but which lived to be called into activity under peculiar circumstances; and which finally, through the mercy and longsuffering of God, became that faith which works by love; and made him capable of doing all things through Christ that strengthened him.

But the conclusion renders the example more valuable because it makes it more accessible. If all was to be ascribed to natural causes, to firmness of temperament and qualities peculiar to the individual, the portrait might be admirable, but it could not be generally profitable. The many, who make no pretence to such powers, would consider themselves released from all duty of imitating an excellence which they could not attain to; and all might feel that they were invited to follow a path, which it was uncertain whether they should be able to accomplish. But when we not only see an excellence described, which excites our admiration; but also see the sources and springs from which it is derived laid open; when we are allowed to feel, that many may attain to the eminence which is held up as our example, if they will but follow the course, and adopt the means that were made use of by those whom we admire; the advantage then is multiplied, or rather an advantage is realised which before was little more than problematical; and all will be encouraged to strive when there is a hope that all may be successful.

The casual note in the private journal of the subject of this memoir as to the uses of adversity, shews that he was conscious of the change that was gradually moving forward within him, and of the need in which he stood of strength and assistance from above. The life of excitement which he had hitherto led, was not favourable to the developement or growth of religious sentiment. The grace of God had kept alive the spark, that early education had kindled; and He, who will not bruise the broken reed, nor quench the smoking flax, had mercifully preserved him from the grosser contagion of the world, through the influence of that romantic attachment which added dignity to his youthful feelings, and that thirst for glory which accompanied it. But the process which protected him from what was evil, was not equally adapted to foster the growth of what is good. The activity of service, the absorbing interest connected with his profession in the time of war, saved him no doubt from the evil inseparable from a life of ease; but his situation as an officer offered no advantages of a religious kind, nothing to encourage serious thought or reflection. In continual movement he had no leisure for reading, no access to those means which are usually thought essential to moral improvement; no opportunity of knowing how other men feel and think on matters of a spiritual nature. In all these respects, repose was necessary; and we may perhaps now be allowed to trace the hand of providence in an event, which, afflictive as it was in itself, gave him that interval of rest, which he never would have consented to seek, or to accept if offered; and sent him for a time to meditate in the retirement of captivity, on the state of his own soul, and the real end and object of man’s being upon earth.

There can be no doubt that in a moral sense this calamity, for such it seemed, and such it doubtless was for a time considered by himself, was singularly beneficial. He then found leisure, and for the first time probably in his life, to review his own principles, to consider his own state, and to examine himself whether he was in the faith. It was a blessed opportunity, but it was well that he was prepared to improve it. Other men had it, but it is feared that few used it to the same purpose. If the root of the matter had not been in him; if religion had not been long known and truly honoured; if it had not already secured a hold on his heart and affections; the leisure which was given would have been employed as leisure too frequently is, by those who pass suddenly from the excitement of active life, in indolence or folly. His time would in that case have been wasted, the opportunity would have been lost, and the gracious purpose of God would have been frustrated as to the effect it seemed calculated to produce.

Happily for him, his mind was prepared for the trial. That habit of realising God in everything that happened, and of cheerful submission to his will, which formed a chief feature in his character, led in this case to resignation. Conscious that as an officer he had done his duty, he submitted to his lot with calmness; and instead of giving way to regret and despondency as if all was lost because he had been once unfortunate; he turned at once to the duties that were before him, and endeavoured to be the protector and benefactor of those, whom he might have been otherwise leading to victory as their commander. With this wholesome occupation the mind had no leisure to prey upon itself, and to destroy its own energies by comparing what might have been his state with that which was. Captivity ceased to be irksome. The future was no longer gloomy, while the present moment was profitably employed. The withdrawal from the anxieties and fatigues of actual service was salutary, and he felt its beneficial effects in mind as well as in body; and through the influence of religious feelings on a mind prepared to admit them, an interval which might have been past in murmurings and unprofitable recollections, became, as we shall see in the subsequent pages of the memoir, a season of calm enjoyment and of real permanent improvement.