MY ADVENTURES DURING
THE LATE WAR
1804-14
[Illustration: D’H’O’Brien.
London Edward Arnold, 1902.]
MY ADVENTURES DURING
THE LATE WAR
A NARRATIVE OF SHIPWRECK, CAPTIVITY
ESCAPES FROM FRENCH PRISONS, AND SEA SERVICE
IN 1804-14
BY
DONAT HENCHY O’BRIEN
CAPT. R.N.
EDITED BY CHARLES OMAN
FELLOW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE AND DEPUTY PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY
IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD
NEW EDITION, ILLUSTRATED
WITH A PREFACE, NOTES, AND BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR
LONDON
EDWARD ARNOLD
1902
_All rights reserved._
PREFACE
While engaged during the last ten years in the task of mastering the
original authorities for the history of the Napoleonic wars, I have had
to peruse many scores of diaries, autobiographies, and journals of the
British military and naval officers who were engaged in the great
struggle. They vary, of course, in interest and importance, in literary
value, and in the power of vivid presentation of events. But they have
this in common, that they are almost all very difficult to procure. Very
few have been reprinted; indeed, I believe that the books of Lord
Dundonald, Kincaid, John Shipp, Gleig, and Mercer are well nigh the only
ones which have passed through a second edition. Yet there are many
others which contain matter of the highest interest, not only for the
historical student, but for every intelligent reader. From among these I
have made a selection of ten or a dozen which seem to me well worth
republishing.
Among these is the present volume--the narrative of the three escapes of
Donat O’Brien from French captivity, and of his subsequent services in
the Mediterranean during the last years of the great French war. I
imagine that no prisoner--not excluding Baron Trenck himself--ever made
_three_ such desperate dashes for liberty as did this enterprising
Irish midshipman. It is fortunate that he found the leisure, and had the
skill, to narrate all his adventures. He had a talent for minute
description, a wonderful memory, and a humorous way of looking on the
world which will remind the reader of the spirit of Captain Marryat’s
naval heroes.
It is not, I think, generally known that O’Brien’s escapes actually
suggested to Marryat a great part of the plot of one of his best known
books--_Peter Simple_. In that excellent romance the narrator (it will
be remembered) actually escapes from Givet in company with an Irish
naval officer, and goes through a hundred perils before reaching safety.
It was a strange liberty to take with a living comrade, that Marryat
actually names _Peter Simple’s_ comrade O’Brien, and utilises many
touches from the real Donat’s adventures to make his tale vivid. In the
end the fictitious O’Brien plays a great part in the story and marries
the hero’s sister. What the retired captain thought, or said, on finding
himself thus liberally dealt with in a novel is not recorded. But I
fancy that he must have considered it hard that _Peter Simple_ should be
reprinted some thirty times, while his own most interesting book never
saw a second edition.
It is now very rare: in ten years of systematic searching of second-hand
book shops, in quest of old military and naval autobiographies, I have
only come on three copies of the work. I trust that by this edition it
may be brought once more to common knowledge.
The reader will find in it a most wonderful study of the life of a
hunted man, “a sort of Nebuchadnezzar living on cabbage stalks,” as
O’Brien styles himself, during his miserable lurking in the cliffs of
the Vosges. Almost as interesting is the sketch of the gloomy existence
of the thousand “refractory” British prisoners in the _souterrains_ of
the rock-fortress of Bitche. French writers have often denounced the
Portsmouth pontoons, on which so many of their compatriots were forced
to dwell. But they compare favourably with the underground dungeons in
which Napoleon confined O’Brien and many another British sailor. In
strong contrast with this part of the story is the short narrative of
life in Verdun, where the _détenus_ on parole seem to have been allowed
as much, and even more, liberty than was good for them. Roulette tables
and race meetings were demoralising luxuries for men suffering from
enforced idleness. From other sections of O’Brien’s narrative the reader
may obtain curious side-lights on many features of the Napoleonic
_régime_ in France--the ubiquity of the _gendarme_ and his natural prey,
the escaped conscript, the bare and squalid life of the peasantry, the
estrangement between the military caste and the _bourgeoisie_. There are
also glimpses of Germany during the existence of the _Rheinbund_, when
the people were united in a sort of tacit conspiracy against the
governments who had made themselves the tools of Bonaparte. Not least
interesting are the final chapters, in which O’Brien, free at last,
shows us how British naval ascendency was maintained in the Adriatic,
and helps us to realise the truth of the saying that “wherever a boat
could float Bonaparte’s power found its limit.” It was to no purpose
that he called himself king of Italy, annexed Dalmatia and Illyria, and
established his brother-in-law at Naples: three or four British
frigates, based on the island stronghold of Lissa, dominated the whole
seaboard, ransacked every estuary, and destroyed whatever naval force
was sent against them--even though it was on paper twice their own
strength. Hoste’s battle of 13th March 1811 was, as far as mere
disparity of numbers goes, a victory that can be compared to St. Vincent
alone among all the long list of British successes at sea.
I have ventured to cut short O’Brien’s narrative at the end of the
Napoleonic war. It went no further in his own first draft, which (as I
have stated in the succeeding biographical note) was compiled before
1815. When he published his two-volume book, in 1839, he subjoined to
his narrative of captivity and naval service three long chapters,
detailing his visits and rambles in England and Ireland during the years
of his middle age, his cruise to Brazil and Chile in 1818-21, and his
continental tour with his wife in 1827. In these 150 pages there is so
little matter to interest either the historical student or the general
reader, that I have thought it well to omit them. For O’Brien, as for so
many other British soldiers and seamen, “the joy of eventful living”
ended in 1815.
For this excision, and for certain other small cuttings, I think that I
may appeal with a clear conscience for the pardon that editors are wont
to demand.
C. OMAN.
OXFORD, _September 1902_.
BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR
Donat Henchy O’Brien was born in County Clare during the month of March
1785. Of his odd combination of names, the first was one common in the
sept of the O’Briens since the earliest ages: it has nothing to do with
St. Donatus, as the casual reader might suppose, but represents the old
Erse Donough or Donoght.[1] His second name came from his mother, a Miss
Henchy, sister of Counsellor Fitz-Gibbon Henchy, a Dublin lawyer of some
repute in his day. Of Donat’s father we find nothing more in O’Byrne’s
_Naval Biography_ than the characteristically Hibernian statement that
“he was descended from one of the ancient monarchs of Ireland.”
Donat O’Brien entered the navy on 16th December 1796, when only eleven,
starting even younger than the average of the midshipmen of those hard
days. Apparently he owed his introduction to the service to Captain
(afterwards Rear-Admiral) Edward Walpole Brown, whom he styles “his
early patron.” His first vessel was the _Overyssel_ (64), a Dutch
line-of-battle ship which had been seized in Cork Harbour in 1795,
where it was lying when Holland was forced to yield to France and to
become her subservient ally. In this vessel he served for three years,
under Captains Young and Bazely, mainly in the North Sea squadron. He
was present in her at the surrender of the Dutch fleet in the Texel on
30th August 1799, during the futile campaign of the Duke of York. Later
in the same year the _Overyssel_ was engaged in the blockading of three
Dutch men-of-war which had run into the port of Goeree. While in charge
of an old merchant ship, which was to be sunk at the mouth of the
harbour, for the more effectual shutting in of the fugitives, O’Brien
was in great peril. The vessel was overset in a sudden gale, and he had
a narrow escape from drowning, being saved at the last moment by a boat
of the _Lion_ cutter.
From the _Overyssel_ O’Brien passed in December 1801 to the _Beschermer_
(54), another Dutch prize,[2] commanded by Captain Alexander Frazer. He
was in her but a few months, as she was laid up in Ordinary at Chatham
when the long negotiations for an accommodation with France were seen to
be coming to a successful conclusion. In the spring of 1802, when the
Peace of Amiens had been signed, O’Brien sailed in the _Amphion_, a
32-gun frigate, where he again had Captain Frazer as his chief. During
the short suspension of hostilities the frigate was first cruising in
British waters to suppress smuggling, and then engaged in a short cruise
to Lisbon.
In January 1803 O’Brien completed his six years of service as a
midshipman, and went up to London to pass his lieutenant’s examination.
This being accomplished with success, he returned for a short time to
the _Amphion_, but was in a few months moved, as a master’s mate, to
the _Hussar_, a new 38-gun frigate commanded by Captain Philip
Wilkinson.
The name _Hussar_ was unlucky: the last ship that had borne the name, a
28-gun frigate, had been lost by shipwreck off the French coast on 27th
December 1796, the greater part of her crew being made prisoners. Her
successor was to have precisely the same fate less than a year after she
had been put into commission. She sailed from Spithead in May 1803,
immediately after the rupture of the Peace of Amiens, and was cruising
in the North Atlantic and in the Bay of Biscay during the first months
of the war. During the winter the _Hussar_ was ordered to join Sir
Edward Pellew’s squadron off the coast of Spain, and was lying with him
in Ares Bay, near Ferrol, when she was ordered home with despatches.
Captain Wilkinson was told to communicate on the way with the Channel
Fleet, which was lying off Cape Finisterre, under Admiral Cornwallis,
engaged in the blockade of Brest. It was this diversion into French
waters which caused the loss of the _Hussar_. On 8th February 1804 she
ran ashore on the _Saintes_ rocks, and became a total wreck. The
majority of the crew struggled ashore and fell into the hands of the
French.
Here Donat O’Brien’s own narrative begins. He may be left to tell the
tale of his own misfortunes and adventures from February 1804 till
October 1813. Suffice it to say that he was a prisoner at Givet from
28th March till 16th July 1804. He was then transferred to Verdun, where
he lay interned till the August of 1807, when he made his first dash for
liberty in company with three other naval officers--Lieutenant Essel and
two midshipmen named Ashworth and Tuthill. After making their way
through countless dangers as far as Étaples on the coast of Picardy,
they were seized by _douaniers_ when actually in sight of the sea and
the English cruisers in the Channel. Their status being soon discovered,
they were sent back to prison, after an Odyssey which had lasted from
the 28th of August to the 18th of September 1807.
After recapture O’Brien and his companions were told off for confinement
in the mountain-fort of Bitche, a bleak fastness in the Vosges,
appropriated to refractory or undesirable prisoners of war. While on
their journey thither, escorted by mounted _gendarmes_, the prisoners
had a chance of escape--they made a sudden dash for a neighbouring wood
and ran for their lives. In their flight they soon lost sight of each
other, and, while the others were recaptured, O’Brien got away. He made
for the nearest neutral frontier, that of Austria, and nearly reached
his goal. After passing the Rhine, crossing the Black Forest, and
working far into Bavaria, he was arrested on suspicion at Lindau on the
Lake of Constance. It was soon discovered that he was an escaped English
prisoner, and the Bavarian Government sent him back under escort to
France. His second futile attempt to escape had covered the period from
15th November to 30th November 1807.
His two desperate dashes for freedom secured O’Brien a place in the most
miserable subterranean casemate of Bitche. Nevertheless, after a year’s
captivity this undaunted master’s mate once more escaped--this time in
company with a midshipman named Hewson, a dragoon officer named Batley,
and a surgeon named Barklimore. Having constructed a rope, they let
themselves down from the three concentric walls of Bitche, a height of
200 feet in all, and got clear away.
This time fortune was with O’Brien. He and two of his companions (the
third, Captain Batley, fell ill at Rastadt and had to be left behind)
crossed South Germany in safety, and reached the Austrian frontier not
many miles from Salzburg. The local officials politely acquiesced in a
transparent fiction by which the fugitives pretended to be Americans,
and allowed them to proceed to Trieste, where they were picked up by a
boat of the _Amphion_, one of O’Brien’s old ships. The third voyage of
this much-travelled man had lasted from 15th September to 7th November
1808.
We need not linger over his service in the Mediterranean on the
_Amphion_, _Warrior_, and _Bacchante_. Suffice it to say that he became
a lieutenant on 29th March 1809, and was promoted to the rank of
commander on 22nd January 1813. He had seen much service during these
four years, and had once been severely wounded in an unsuccessful
attempt to board and capture a Venetian _trabaccolo_ off Trieste. The
most important action in which he was engaged was Commodore Hoste’s
victory off Lissa on 13th March 1811.
On being promoted to the rank of commander, O’Brien had to return to
England, no ship being available for him in the Mediterranean. He
arrived at Portsmouth on 4th October 1813, and took for some months a
well-earned holiday. He was in hopes of seeing service against the
Americans, but the times were unpropitious. Both the Napoleonic and the
American wars were coming to an end, and, like so many other energetic
naval and military men, O’Brien found himself placed on half-pay in
1814.
He only had one more turn of service afloat, in command of the _Slaney_,
a 20-gun sloop, which cruised on the South American station from 1818 to
1821. The rest of his life--he was still only thirty-six years of
age--was spent in enforced retirement: in the thirties and forties the
navy was kept low, and there was little prospect of work for the
half-pay captain.
On 28th June 1825 O’Brien married Hannah, youngest daughter of John
Walmsley of Castle Mere, Lancashire, by whom he became the father of a
large family, seven children in all. Two years after, he took his wife
for a long tour round northern France, to show her the places of his
imprisonments and escapes. It was this revisiting of old scenes that
caused him to write the book which we have here reprinted. But he did
not publish it till 1839, when it appeared, dedicated by permission to
the young Queen Victoria. He had, however, already put out long before a
shorter narrative of his escape, from which the two-volume book of 1839
was expanded. It had appeared in the _Naval Chronicle_ for the years
1812-15, in the strange form of sixteen “Naval Bulletins” addressed to
no less a person than the Emperor Napoleon. The dedication of this
original draft deserves reproduction--it runs as follows:--
“As your Imperial Majesty has long delighted in the compilation of
endless Bulletins, as they are styled, in which truth and candour
are never suffered to appear, it may perhaps amuse you, during some
of these pauses which occasionally occur in your systematic
destruction and humiliation of your fellow-creatures, to be enabled
to hear a little truth, and to trace the manner in which such a
humble individual as myself bade defiance to your persecutions,
and has at length returned to his duty as a naval officer,
notwithstanding all the dungeons, fetters, and insults which
distinguished your reign of despotism.”
The last of the “Naval Bulletins” appeared in the same number of the
_Naval Chronicle_ as a narrative by Henry Ashworth, one of the
companions of O’Brien’s first escape. From this, an incomplete story,
which Ashworth did not survive to finish, certain parts of O’Brien’s
tale can be corroborated and expanded.
O’Brien was promoted to the rank of rear-admiral on 8th March 1852. He
survived five years more, and died on 13th May 1857 at Yew House,
Hoddesdon, in his seventy-third year.
The not very flattering portrait of him which we have reproduced as our
frontispiece was drawn by J. Pelham and engraved by J. Brown for the
book of 1839.
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE v
BIOGRAPHY OF CAPTAIN O’BRIEN ix
CHAPTER I
The _Hussar_ Frigate is sent home with Despatches, and wrecked on the
_Saintes_--Efforts to save the Ship--Attempt to escape in the Boats
foiled by bad Weather--A Surrender to the Enemy Page 1
CHAPTER II
A kind Reception by the Enemy--Our Shipmates all
Prisoners--Consolations under Misfortunes--Prisoners sent to
the Hospital at Brest--Robbery by a French Seaman--Running the
Gauntlet--Dilemma of wearing or giving up a Sword--Kindness of the
French Nuns--Orders to march into the Interior--Wounded Pride and
Hard Fare--Bad Faith of the Minister of Marine--The March begins for
Verdun--Arrival at Landernau--Aristocratic Differences in Rates of Pay
or Allowances amongst Republicans--Landiviziau--An Illustration of
Equality--Morlaix to Rennes--Prisoners and Vermin--Vitré--English Dogs
at a French Inn--Laval--A Spectacle for the Mob--Alençon--Difficulties
increased--Part of the Crew separated from their Officers--Our Arrival
at Rouen--An honest Gaoler and his amiable Wife--A moderate Bill for
Gaol Fare--_Bons Garçons_ in a Prison--Our Arrival at Amiens--English
Sympathy for suffering Countrymen Page 7
CHAPTER III
Departure from Amiens--Arrival at Albert--Our French Officer’s
Delicacy and Liberality--A Civic Feast at Bapaume--Effects
of Champagne on French Aldermen--A Separation from our kind
Conductor--A New Escort--A forced March to Cambray--Pitiable
State and severe Sufferings of the Seamen--Entrance into
Cambray--Imprisonment--Landrecies, Avesnes, Hirson--A Billet upon
the Inhabitants--Rocroy--A brutal Landlord--The Robbery and Abuse of
Prisoners--Givet--Charlemont--A Description of the Fortifications--An
Escape of Prisoners--A fruitless Pursuit--Generosity of the French
Commandant--Private Lodgings--A Jacobin Landlady--Exhausted Funds--The
4th of June--Honours done to King George the Third’s Birthday--Roast
Beef and Plum Pudding--French Terrors of Insurrection--The Difference
between taking off and only touching Hats in saluting Men in
Authority--Good News--A joyful Departure in a cart for Verdun Page 26
CHAPTER IV
Our Arrival at Verdun--A joyful Reception--General Wirion--His
Indulgence towards the Prisoners--The Meetings of old Shipmates
and Friends--Mental Employment the best Antidote against _Ennui_
and Dissipation--Restiveness at Confinement--Anxiety to be
again in the Active Service of Old England--Meditations upon an
Escape--Contrivances to avoid a Breach of Parole or any Breach
of Honour--Three Comrades or _Compagnons de Voyage_--Scaling
Ramparts--A Descent of Seventy-two Feet--The Open Country--The March
commences--Flying by Night, and hiding in Woods by Day--Heavy Rains,
Dismal Roads, and Swampy Beds, with Bad Fare and Good Hearts--Leaping
a Moat--A Dislocated Knee--The March resumed, and pursued lamely--The
Town of Neuville--Extreme Sufferings from Thirst--Water at length
procured, Anguish allayed, and the Escape proceeded upon with renewed
Spirits Page 43
CHAPTER V
The Journey pursued--A Bivouac in a Wood--Dangers of being
Shot--Making free with an Orchard--Crossing the Oise--A Mode of
obtaining Provisions--A Cabaret and a Village _Fête_--Kindness
of the Peasantry--Petit Essigny--Wringing drenched Garments, and
Drying them over fading Embers--A miserable Landlord--A Change of
Quarters--Luxuries of a Hay-loft--A Samaritan of a Hostess--Wretched
Sufferings of Mr. Essel--Resort to another Village--A kind
Landlord--Sympathies for Deserters--“A Fellow-feeling makes Men
wondrous Kind”--The Luxuries of a Clean Bed--Resort to another
Village--A motherly Hostess--A lucky Road-acquaintance--Virtue
and Happiness in humble Life--The charitable Baker--Dangers
from Sportsmen to Gentlemen hiding in Woods--Mr. Essel’s
Illness disappearing--Increased Speed not always safe to
Fugitives--Coldness of the Weather--An hospitable Farmer--A French
Harvest-home--Hesdin--Neuville--Étaples--Turned out of a Straw Bed--A
new Inn, with a _Gendarme_ in Disguise in the Kitchen--Bribing
a Landlord--No Boat to be had--An old Shepherd too cunning for
a young Lieutenant and Midshipmen--Extreme Difficulties--High
Hopes--Despondency and Resources Page 63
CHAPTER VI
A False Direction and an Appalling Repulse--A Bribe refused--A Deluge,
and Shelter in a Barn--A fatal Resolution--Dangers of Fugitives
journeying by Daylight--A Market-day at Étaples--Passing through
Crowds not very convenient for runaway Prisoners of War--An Attempt
to reach the Sand-hills on the Coast--A Bold Progress through a
Despicable Village--The last House--Parching Thirst, and begging for
a Draught of Water--An Acquiescence or Reply in the shape of two
Custom-house Officers--Our Capture--A clever Fiction well devised,
better sustained, and totally defeated--Getting rid of suspicious
Goods--An Examination before the Mayor--Americanism and the American
Gentleman--An awkward Exposure--A _Mittimus_ to Boulogne Gaol--An
Examination of our Persons and Clothes--Our Fate sealed and Hope
destroyed Page 90
CHAPTER VII
Our Entrance into the Gaol of Boulogne--Tantalising Sight of Old
England’s Flag and white Cliffs--A Gaoler’s Supper and a conscientious
Bill--Another Examination--The Route to Verdun--Arras--The Gaoler
kind, and the Commandant full of Indulgence--Bapaume--The Baker,
and Inquiries for our lost Money--Cambray--Cateau-Cambresis and its
horrible Dungeon--Landrecies--Our Awkwardness in Chains, Handcuffs,
and Fetters--My Dislike to them--Avesnes--Information that we were to
be Shot--The Dungeon of Avesnes--A dungeon Companion who had killed
and cut up both his Parents--A Night of Horrors and Lunacy--Hirson,
a Town without a Gaol, but with a Dungeon--A Supper and its
Consequences--The Discovery of our Implements of Escape--Maubert
Fontaine--A new Dungeon and a Fellow-prisoner--Reciprocal
Services--A novel Mode of hiding Pistol-barrels--Chaining Prisoners
to a Cart--Mezières--Arrival at Verdun--Separated from my
Companions--Reflections on being Shot--A close Examination--Questioned
in relation to Buonaparte--Allowed to join my old Associates--Another
Cross-examination--A Recommittal to Prison--Our Fate determined--The
Dungeon of Bitche--The Rev. Lancelot C. Lee, a _détenu_--His
Generosity Page 100
CHAPTER VIII
Our Departure from Verdun for Bitche--Mars-la-Tour, Metz,
and Sarrelouis--I receive a useful Present from Mr.
Brown--Sarreguemines--A last Chance--A mounted Guard--Thoughts of an
Escape--Calculations upon a Chase in a Wood between Horse-soldiers
and Prisoners on Foot--Attempt resolved upon--Signal given--Flight
from the Prison Caravan to the Wood--French Pursuit--A Prisoner
recaptured--My Escape from the Wood into another--My Companions,
I fear, less fortunate--My Concealment--A swampy Bed and a stormy
Sky, with a Torrent of Rain, for a Canopy--A prospective Flight
of nearly 800 Miles--The Misery of a fruitless Search for lost
Companions--Feeding on Haws, and herding with Quadrupeds and
Vermin--A Hut discovered--Hunger compels me to enter--A Compromise,
a Bribe, Female Advocacy, and an Escape--On the Road to the Rhine--A
Preparation to sell Life dearly--A narrow Escape--Living on
Cabbage-Stalks and raw Turnips--Bad Feet and worse Health--A lonely
House near a Wood--Strong Temptations to Enter--A brutal Host, extreme
Danger, and a narrow Escape--Bad Specimens of Human Nature Page 116
CHAPTER IX
An inclement Season--A Retreat in a Cavern-Somnambulism--The Discovery
of a Shepherd’s Hut--A Traveller put out of a wrong Road--Swimming
in a Winter’s Night--Passing through a Mill--A suspicious Traveller
may be an honest Man--A Lorraine Cottage seen through a Fog--Dangers
from over-kind People--Repugnance to be introduced to a Mayor or
any other good Society--Concealment in a hollow Willow--An honest
Fellow-traveller of fugitive Reminiscences--An ingenious Fiction--A
Perspective of Strasbourg Page 131
CHAPTER X
The Banks of the Rhine--Contemplations on crossing the River
irregularly--Difficulties of finding a legal Passage--Mistaking
two armed Officers for two harmless Fishermen--An appeal to
Feelings, and a national Assurance of Patriotism--Cattle crossing
the Bridge of Kehl--An Intermixture with the Cattle, and a Passage
over the Rhine--Joy of being out of France--A Progress towards
Friburg--Contrast between a warm Featherbed and bivouacking in
the Mud--An innocent Landlord clever at a Guess--An Escape round
Friburg--A Night’s Rest--_En route_ to Constance--A Village
Inn--A Countryman for a Waiter, and a long Gossip upon Personal
Histories and Native Places--The Inconsistencies of Superstition and
Hunger--My Approach to Constance--Effects on the Mind produced by its
magnificent Scenery and beautiful Lake--Crossing a Branch of Lake
Constance--Leaving the Kingdom of Würtemberg and entering the Kingdom
of Bavaria--A Night’s rest in a Bavarian Village--_La route_ to
Lindau--Outmarching an Enemy--The Gate to Lindau--Successfully passing
the Sentinels--Elation of Spirits--An awkward Querist--Unsuccessful
Invention--A Capture--Examination and Imprisonment--Bitter Reflections
upon my cruel Destiny Page 146
CHAPTER XI
A fresh Incarceration--Stripping a Prisoner naked a more
effectual detainer than Chains and Padlocks--Hopes of Escape
prove delusive--Gaol Surgery and Gaol Diet--A timely Loan of
Books--A short Visit from a Swiss Captive--Orders to prepare
for a Return to France--A heavy Chain and huge Padlock--The Mob
at Lindau--Leave-taking between a Prisoner and the Gaoler and
Gaoler’s Wife--the Road to France--Going to Bed in Chains--Strict
Watching--Chances of a Rescue--Anticipations of the Horrors of
Bitche--Commiseration of my Guards--Crossing the Bridge of Kehl--A
Surrender to the French _Gendarmes_--Captivity in the Military Gaol
of Strasbourg--A kind Gaoler and as kind a Wife--His Gratitude
for English Kindness when a Prisoner of War--Examined by the
Police--Affectionate leave-taking of the honest Gaoler and his
Wife--On the Road to Bitche heavily chained to Eleven Corsicans going
to suffer Military Execution--The horrible Dungeon of Niederbronn--A
revolting Night’s Confinement--Dreadful Sufferings of two of the
Corsican Soldiers--Distant Prospects of Bitche--Anticipations of a
cruel Confinement--Arrival at the Fortress Page 174
CHAPTER XII
Conjectures of the Prisoners as to my Country and Crimes--Inferences
from my Chains that I had committed Murder--Mr. Ashworth and Mr.
Tuthill, with Mr. Baker, rejoin me--Lieutenant Essel dashed to Pieces
in attempting to descend the Ramparts of Bitche--My Grief at his
Death--The immense Height of the Ramparts--My Horrible Dungeon--Its
revolting State of Filth--Interview with the Commandant--An
Application to be allowed to take the Air granted for Two Hours a
Day--Meditations upon an Escape--Our Efforts baffled--A Christmas
Night in a Dungeon--Reminiscences of Home and Friends--A Sentinel
firing on his Prisoners--I am removed to a Cell with Fifty
Prisoners--Again removed to a higher Cell, with only Twelve--Improved
Condition--Hear of a Scheme of the Prisoners below to effect their
Escape--Contrive to join them--Stratagem to drown the Noise of
Working-tools--Successful Undermining--Noise in Opening the Third
Door--Sentinels alarmed--The Guards enter--Search and discover our
Engineering--Fury of the French Officers--Mr. Brine, answering to the
name of O’Brien, is captured instead of me--I escape from the Dungeon
and regain my own Cell--Feign Illness, and avoid Suspicion Page 191
CHAPTER XIII
A Trial at Metz--English Officers sentenced to the Galleys--Forging
and using false Passports--The Consequences--A new Scheme of
Escape--A favourable Night but unfavourable Sentinels--A Farewell
Dinner--Another Attempt at Escape--A Descent of Ramparts by a
Rope--Concealment in a Ditch--Rolling down a Glacis--An Adieu to
the Mansion of Tears--Making towards the Rhine--Concealment in a
Wood--Refuge in a Vineyard--Shooting a Fox--Disturbed in our Lair--A
Flight and its Dangers--The Banks of the Rhine--Passing the River--A
Joyful Escape into neutral Territory--Prospective Comforts of an Inn,
and Refreshment.....Page 215
CHAPTER XIV
Refreshments at a Village Inn--The Town of Rastadt--A civil
Traveller--Good Accommodation--Baden--Awkward Rencontre with a
Royal Party--An Alarm about Passports--A Genteel Inn dangerous to
Fugitive Travellers--The Advantages of a Drunken Landlord--The
Town of Hornberg--To Kriemhieldsach, after passing the Black
Forest--Banditti--The Murder of a French General--A German Inn and a
rustic Dance--The Town of Tütlingen--A Concealment of Eight Days--Vain
Attempts to smuggle Passports--Progress of our Journey--Crossing
the Iller--Leaving Würtemberg and entering Bavaria--The Progress
of our Flight--Kaufbeuern--An inquisitive Landlord and frightened
Guests Page 232
CHAPTER XV
Leaving Kaufbeuern on the Left Hand--Crossing the Wardach and
the Lech--A welcome Ferry-boat--The Town of Weilheim--A long and
exhausting March--The Soporific of Fatigue--The Ferry over the River
Inn--Frightened at a Soldier--A false Alarm--Crossing the River--The
Town of Reichenhall--Our Approach to the Bavarian Frontiers--The
Increase of Dangers--Passing Barriers with Success--A Supposition
that we were in the Austrian Dominions--A woeful Miscalculation and
a narrow Escape from its fatal Consequences--An unexpected Demand
for Passports--An Evasion--The Bavarian and Austrian Confines--Our
extreme Danger--Anticipating the Galleys--A Track through a Wood
at the foot of a Mountain--A Flight--The Boundary passed, and the
Fugitives in the Emperors Dominions--Soldiers in Ambush--The Fugitives
captured--Feigning to be Americans from Altona--Rage of the Bavarian
Guard at being outwitted Page 247
CHAPTER XVI
Our Arrival at Salzburg--The Director of Police--Perseverance in
our Tale of being Americans--Suspected of being Spies--Austrian
Feelings favourable towards England and Englishmen--Confession
of the Truth--Treated well as English Officers--An excellent
Inn--A kind Governor--Great Civility--Despatches from
Vienna--Passports ordered for us--A Remittance of Money from
Vienna--Passports for Trieste--Our Journey--German Students and Dog
Latin--Clagenfurt--Laibach--Banditti--A Mountain Scene--An Irish
Watch-fire--Arrival at Trieste--Ecstasies at beholding the Gulf and
the English Frigate in the Offing--Our Embarkation--Picked up by the
_Amphion’s_ Boat--An old Friend and Shipmate--Discovering an Enemy--A
desperate and unsuccessful Fight--The Killed and Wounded--Shot through
the Right Arm--Valour of Lieut. G. M. Jones--His Wound--Excessive
Kindness of the _Amphion’s_ Captain and Officers--The _Spider_
Brig--Corfu--Malta--Sir Alexander Ball--Unexpected Meeting with
old Friends escaped from Bitche--Promoted to a Lieutenancy in the
_Warrior_ (a seventy-four)--The Glories of the Naval Service opened to
me Page 263
CHAPTER XVII
Receiving a Lieutenancy--Lord Collingwood’s Kindness--Joining
the _Warrior_--An unexpected Supply of Dollars--An Accident at
Sea--Capture of Ischia and Procida--Expedition against the Ionian
Isles--Joining the _Amphion_--Captain Hoste’s Activity in the
Adriatic--Commodore Dubourdieu and his Squadron at Ancona--Chasing
the Enemy--A Wild-goose Pursuit--Success at Last--A glorious Battle
and a splendid Victory--Details of the Action at Lissa--My Return to
England--Interview with the First Lord of the Admiralty--A Visit to
Ireland--A Solicitation from Captain Hoste to Join the _Bacchante_
as First Lieutenant--Revisiting the Mediterranean--Provoking the
Enemy--They provoking us--A Capture--Unhappy Loss of Prizes--An
inexplicable Accident--Extraordinary Explosion of a French Frigate--A
Flag of Truce--Venice--Corfu--Capture of Flotilla.....Page 287
CHAPTER XVIII
Capture of General Bordé and his Staff--A gallant Boarding Exploit--A
horrible Murder by Italian Prisoners of War--Success of our Navy--A
Balance of Accounts--My Promotion--Quitting the _Bacchante_--Pain of
leaving old Friends and brave Shipmates--The Plague at Malta--Captain
Pell gives me a Passage Home--An ineffectual Chase and a narrow
Escape--Stratagems of the Enemy--Toulon--Gibraltar--The English
Channel--Ingenious Device of Captain Pell, resulting in the curious
Capture of a French Privateer--Arrival in England--A kind Reception by
the First Lord of the Admiralty--An Official Promise--“Hope deferred
maketh the Heart sick”--A Return to London--The Peace of 1814--Its
Consequences--Half-Pay and an End to all Adventures Page 331
APPENDIX--
Letter of Barklimore to O’Brien Page 339
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF CAPTAIN O’BRIEN _Frontispiece_
PAGE
MAP SHOWING THE LINES OF O’BRIEN’S THREE ESCAPES xxviii
ESCAPE FROM THE _GENDARMES_ NEAR SARREGUEMINES 118
CUTTING OUT THE ENEMY’S VESSELS AT PORT LEMA 314
CAPTURE OF A FRENCH FLOTILLA OFF OTRANTO 328
[Illustration: MAP SHOWING THE LINES OF THE AUTHOR’S THREE ESCAPES.
(1) Verdun-Étaples (2) Sarreguemines-Lindau (3) Bitche-Salzburg.
[_The names of the French Departments of 1806-8 are indicated
thus_--=Aisne-Forêts= _etc._]]
CHAPTER I
The _Hussar_ Frigate is sent home with despatches, and wrecked on
the _Saintes_--Efforts to save the ship--Attempt to escape in the
boats foiled by bad weather--A surrender to the enemy.
It was on Monday, the 6th February 1804, that the _Hussar_ made sail
from Ares Bay in Spain, being bound for England with despatches, from
our commodore Sir Edward Pellew, and with orders first to communicate
with our Channel Fleet off Brest. We had a fresh breeze from the S.W.;
and on the succeeding day (Tuesday, 7th) the wind and weather were
nearly the same. At noon, to the best of my recollection, we were in
lat. 46° 50´, Ushant bearing N. 37° E., distant 113 or 114 miles.
On Wednesday (8th) the wind and weather were the same, and we were
steering, as nearly as I can recollect, N.E. by E., and running nine
knots an hour. Every heart was elated with the joyful expectation of
being safely moored in a few hours in the land of liberty. Some were
employed in writing to their friends and relatives; but, alas! how frail
and delusive are the hopes of man! How differently had our lot been
decreed! The happy arrival, with many, never took place. With all the
others it was long delayed; and the vicissitudes and miseries we were
doomed to suffer will amply appear in the subsequent pages.
It was upon this fatal Wednesday, at about 10.45 P.M., whilst steering
this course of N.E. by E., and running at the rate of about seven knots
an hour, in dark and hazy weather, the _Hussar_ struck upon the
southernmost point of the _Saintes_. We beat over an immense reef of
rocks, carried away our tiller in several pieces, unshipped the rudder,
and, from the violence of beating over the reef, we damaged the ship’s
bottom so considerably that the leak became very serious. At length we
got into deep water, and let go our bower anchors, to prevent being
dashed to pieces on the immense rocks ahead. We got our top-gallant
yards and masts on deck, and used every possible means to lighten the
ship. The greater part of the crew were kept at the pumps; whilst the
remainder, with the officers, were employed in staving the water-casks
in the hold, in shoring the ship up, as the ebb tide was making and she
was inclining to starboard, and in doing all that was deemed expedient
to the safety of the ship. All was unavailing. The carpenter reported
that she was bilged; and we could distinctly hear the rocks grinding and
working through her as the tide fell.
At daylight Mr. Weymouth (the master) was sent to sound for a passage
amongst the rocks, on the supposition that we might be able to buoy the
ship through, but he returned without success; though, had he
accomplished it, from the state the ship was in, there could have been
little hope of getting her out. A division of the seamen and marines,
with their respective officers, was then ordered to take possession of
the island, that in the last extremity there might be an asylum secured
for the men and officers. The rest of the crew remained at the pumps,
but with no success, as the leak kept gaining upon them. The island was
taken without any opposition, the only people on it being a few
distressed fishermen and their families.
About 11 A.M. we began to land the crew, no hopes remaining of being
able to save our ship. However, the remainder of the people kept still
working at the pumps, waiting the return of the boats. At noon, the
flood making strongly, and we fore-reaching withal, Captain Wilkinson
gave directions to let go the sheet-anchor, which was immediately done.
Strong gales from S.W.
_February 9th._--By about 1 P.M. everybody was safely landed, with two
or three pigs and some biscuit, which were the only subsistence we had
secured. Captain Wilkinson and Mr. Weymouth came in the last boat. At
about 1.30 P.M. Lieutenant Pridham, with Messrs. Carey, Simpson, and
Thomas (three warrant-officers), and myself, were ordered by the captain
to return to the ship, to cut her masts away, and destroy everything we
could possibly get at. On our arrival on board, the water was nearly
square with the combings of the lower deck. At about 3.30 P.M. we
quitted her, having executed with the greatest accuracy the duty we were
ordered upon: the wind still increasing, left us but little hope of her
hanging together for the night.
We joined the officers and crew in a small church; and this was the only
place on the island where we could conveniently take up our residence.
The weather was excessively inclement during the night. At daylight,
discovering the ship still apparently whole, Captain Wilkinson
despatched Mr. Pridham and Mr. Mahoney (master’s mate), with a party of
men, to destroy her by fire. The other officers and people were employed
in equipping thirteen fishing-boats, which belonged to the
inhabitants,[3] for the purpose of transporting the ship’s company,
either to our fleet off Brest or to England, as circumstances might
admit. Mr. Pridham and his party returned, and the report of the ship’s
guns announced the execution of the duty they had been sent upon.
On the 10th, at about 1.30 P.M., our boats were in readiness, it then
blowing hard from the S.W. We all embarked in them. I had the honour to
command one, with twenty-five men; Captain Wilkinson, with the master,
leading in the barge, which was the only ship’s boat in company. We made
sail out of the little creeks in which the boats had been moored, the
sea running excessively high, and at about two the barge hauled up to
the N.W. We all, of course, followed. About 2.30 or 3 o’clock in the
afternoon we bore up again. Several of the boats were in distress, being
very badly found, having neither sails, rigging, nor ground tackling
that could be at all trusted to. Lieutenants Pridham and Lutwidge (who
remained prisoners of war until the peace of 1814), and Lieutenant
Barker (who was afterwards killed in a duel at Verdun), were to keep
ahead, as no other boat had compasses. At about five, in a very severe
squall with rain, we lost sight of the barge. Everybody in our boat was
of opinion that she had been upset; and at 5.30 P.M., it blowing
extremely hard, with a heavy shower of rain, we lost sight of all the
boats. At about six we observed St. Matthew’s Light[4] on the weather
bow. The wind now chopped round to the N.W., in a very heavy squall,
which carried away our mainmast in the step[5] and fore-tye, and very
nearly swamped us, having almost filled the boat with water. We chipped
the heel of the mainmast, restepped it, and rove the main-tye and
halliards forward, which enabled us to set the foresail, and keep
scudding before the wind to Rock Fort, with the expectation of falling
in with some of the other boats; but in this we were disappointed. At
eleven we determined to anchor at the bottom of Bertheaume Bay, though
with very little or no hope of riding long, our only ground tackling
being a small grapnel and a very few fathoms of one inch and a half
rope.
We providentially succeeded in bringing up, though we were,
unfortunately, too near the shore and most miserably situated: the
weather tide, running strongly against a violent gale from the N.W.,
occasioned such a sea as to bury us frequently in its abyss.
At 2 A.M., the sea breaking in a most terrific manner over us, and
finding that we were driving and almost touching abaft, expecting every
second to be dashed on the rocks astern of us, we hauled in briskly on
the grapnel rope, hoisted the foresail and wore round, paying out the
grapnel rope just hauled in, until we brought it right over the quarter,
which enabled us to get our grapnel on board with ease; then we stood
over to the Camaret Bay side, in the hope of falling in with some little
haven to shelter us, or with one of the other boats; but we were
disappointed in either expectation.
At about 4.30 A.M., finding we advanced towards Brest Harbour
considerably, we resolved to try the grapnel once more; although we were
not in the smallest degree sheltered from the inclemency of the weather,
and were placed immediately under a fort, which we distinguished by its
lights, that enabled us to see the sentinels on their posts walking to
and fro. We made, if possible, worse weather here than at our former
anchorage, with the exception that the grapnel held. At 7.30 A.M. the
wind and weather became more inclement than on the preceding night. Not
a boat of ours was in sight, every minute we expected to be hailed by
the fort, and not a soul amongst us could speak a word of French. We
were almost perishing and starved from the fatigue and sufferings of the
night, the few provisions we had being totally destroyed by the salt
water. Seeing no alternative but the pain and mortification of
delivering myself and my boat’s crew prisoners of war, I came at length
to that resolution. Accordingly I ordered all the small arms in my boat
to be hove overboard, and at eight cut the grapnel rope, and ran into
Brest Harbour under the foresail.
Imagining that the boat’s crew and myself might be better received and
treated on board the commander-in-chief’s ship than in a private vessel,
I went alongside the _Alexandre_, which ship bore his flag, and I
surrendered myself and my crew as prisoners of war.