“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.