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 Alex.
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.
We had now reached about the noon of the 17th of October 1808, when an
escort or guard was appointed for our custody, and we were put upon our
march for Salzburg. Our fate depended on what might be the momentary
disposition of the Austrian Government towards England and America. We
resolved to persevere in our American fiction, if nothing arose to
induce us to the contrary. At about two we arrived at Salzburg. This is
a fine fortified city, the capital of the duchy of Salzburg, with a
strong castle on the mountain. It has a university, and two noble
palaces. The town lies on both sides of the river Salza, and is situated
between three mountains. The buildings of the town were very remarkable,
but we were not in a humour, or under circumstances, to attend to such
subjects, or to indulge in the taste of amateurs.
We were conducted to one building, the town house, where we were put
under strict interrogatories by the Director of the Police. Our
inquisitor, however, was a well-bred, gentlemanly officer, and he spoke
four languages with great fluency.
He first asked us in French, what countrymen we were. We would not
understand him. He then put to us the same question both in Italian and
German: we were equally ignorant. He next asked us our country in
English. Now we understood him, and promptly answered that we were
Americans.
“How have you contrived,” he demanded, “to enter the Emperor of
Austria’s dominions without regular passports? You will be considered as
spies.”
I laconically asked him, Whether spies would not furnish themselves with
passports, in order to facilitate their designs? and I further asked
him, What knowledge of a country could be obtained by spies, in our
destitute condition and humble class of life? We had not a sheet of
paper or a black-lead pencil amongst us, and were, in point of money,
paupers.
This gentleman seemed struck by these obvious truths, but he insisted
upon our giving some account of ourselves.
I was the spokesman, and I replied as follows: “We belonged,” I said,
“to an American ship which was taken by the Danes (under the Berlin and
Milan decrees) for having been boarded and overhauled by two English
frigates in the English Channel, on her passage to the Baltic.[31] Our
names,” I added, “are Manuel (_alias_ Hewson), chief mate; Henderson,
surgeon (_alias_ Barklimore); and myself, Lincoln, who unfortunately
happened to be a passenger.”
He then requested that each of us would make out, in writing, a regular
specification of who and what we were, and bring it to him the next
morning. He should send us to a tavern for the night, and requested we
would not stir from it without his permission. He expressed also his
astonishment at our having crossed the Continent without being able to
speak any other language than English, and added, _That if we were even
Englishmen, we had nothing to fear from the Austrian Government_. My
God! I never felt more happy than at hearing these words--how they
soothed my mind! I however feigned not to comprehend him perfectly, that
my ears might again hear them repeated; and my heart rebounded with joy
when he reiterated that, were we English, we should have nothing to fear
from the Austrians. I felt so confident that a man in his station would
not tell an untruth, that I was actually on the point of declaring who
and what we really were. However, I governed myself and restrained my
desire to relate the truth, although I am at a loss to explain how I was
able to do so; and, turning to my companions, I observed that we had
better proceed to the tavern, as we were very much fatigued. The
Director ordered a sergeant to show us the way. We took a cordial leave
of this worthy old gentleman, and followed our guide.
At the tavern we were received as American travellers, and had an
excellent supper and good beds; we felt superlatively happy. What a vast
difference between our present situation and that of only a few hours
before, when between the two barriers!
The next morning (Tuesday the 18th) we rose early, and endeavoured to
dress ourselves as well as we could--at least, as well as our tattered
garments would admit of; so we procured a change of linen, and prepared
to wait on the Director. We agreed to continue the American story, until
we could be well assured of the disposition of the Austrian Government
towards Englishmen. At ten we visited the Director, who again expressed
great astonishment at our travelling with such success so great a
distance, and wondered that we had nothing whatever about us to certify
that we were Americans. “Mr. Manuel” was at the same time writing his
declaration. The old gentleman again observed to me that there were
frequently Englishmen passing through Salzburg, who had escaped from
France, and who always found an asylum in Austria. I paid very great
attention to this important information. The chief mate had now finished
his declaration; and “Mr. Lincoln, passenger,” was to begin next. I
really could not reconcile it to myself to draw up a false declaration,
especially as it appeared that we ran no risk in declaring the truth;
and I therefore pointed out to the others the consequences that such a
step might occasion, with the certainty of being found out, as no doubt
the court of Vienna would make every necessary inquiry, through their
consul at Altona, before they would pay any credit to our statement. The
result of this would of course be that we should be found impostors, and
perhaps not be believed when we declared what we were in reality. Making
a virtue of necessity was our best policy. They both agreed that my
remarks were just; and I was requested by them to take the old gentleman
aside, and make him acquainted with the whole of the circumstances. I
accordingly did so, and proved to him by a certificate,[32] which I kept
always sewed up in my clothes, that we were British officers. He said it
had appeared to him at first sight that we were English
prisoners-of-war, who had escaped from the French. I related the whole
of our history. He regretted much that he could not instantly grant us
passports, since it was necessary to acquaint the Government at Vienna,
and have their sanction, but he said we should have an answer in fifteen
days at most; and he jocosely added, “You have been five years nearly in
France, so you cannot have any objection to remain amongst us for a few
days.” He was excessively kind; and I could not avoid communicating to
him that our finances were reduced to the lowest ebb. The kind old man
soon comforted me on this score, by stating that, whilst we were
detained, the Austrian Government would allow us a certain sum per diem,
in proportion to our respective ranks. He begged that we would make
ourselves as comfortable as possible at our inn, told us to dismiss all
care and anxiety from our minds, and requested, rather than ordered us,
to keep ourselves within doors, until we heard further from him.
We took our leave most respectfully and gratefully; and as we returned
to the tavern, we could not help contrasting this urbanity and kindness
with the brutal severity which it had been our unhappy lot to experience
for so many years. The effect of kindness towards the distressed is to
elevate the character of those that bestow and those that receive it.
Mr. Hewson, this evening, wrote to his friend Mr. Concannon, at Vienna,
who had been a _détenu_ in Verdun and obtained his liberty (this
gentleman was subsequently member for Coventry), to beg him to use his
influence with the authorities in our behalf.
The Director sent daily his compliments “to the American gentlemen (for
out of policy towards France we were still considered under this
character), and requested to know how we were;” and the landlady and
waiters declared, that, until they had seen _us_, they had imagined that
all Americans were negroes. In the dusk of the evening we sometimes
contrived to steal out and reconnoitre the town and suburbs; and I had
fixed on a plan of escape, in the event of the Austrian Government
coming to a resolution to give us up to the cruel and hated enemy.
Perhaps the suspicion was not very worthy of us, and could only be
justified by what we had suffered at the hands of the French.
We had been ten days and nights in this sort of indulgent durance, when,
on the eleventh morning, before we were out of bed, an officer rapped at
our door, and told us that the Director wished to see one of us
immediately. Hewson sprang out of bed, dressed himself quickly, and
obeyed the summons. During our friend’s absence, Barklimore and myself
were in a state of great perplexity. It rushed into my mind that the
French or Bavarian governments might have demanded us from the
Austrians. This apprehension overwhelmed me; but I concealed my
emotions, strong as they were, from my friend, who at the time was
suffering greatly from fever and ague.
Hewson shortly returned, and his countenance soon dissipated all our
apprehensions, for his joy was so excessive that in vain did he
endeavour to put on dismal looks in order to worry us. With an assumed
air of sorrow, he told us that he much feared we were to be sent back to
France. But we were not so ignorant of physiognomy that we could not
perceive that he was almost bursting with some happy intelligence. At
last he congratulated us that we were at length free men--our liberty
was secured as firmly as if we had taken “a bond from Fate.” In fact,
the Director had received a despatch from Vienna, in which the Austrian
Government had acknowledged us as English subjects and officers, and in
which they had directed him to give us passports to proceed wherever we
pleased; and the Director added that we were now at liberty, and that we
might quit the town that day if we wished. Good and gracious God! what
intelligence to people who have been nearly five years in severe and
bitter slavery! We sprang out of bed, fell on our knees, and, with
hearts full of gratitude to our Great Creator for His unbounded mercies
and goodness, we greeted each other as free people.
We instantly agreed to wait upon our worthy friend, the Director, and
evince to him how grateful we were for his attention and kindness. He
received us in the most handsome manner, and appeared as much elated as
if he had been in our situation. He wished to know how we meant to
travel to Trieste? We answered, on foot, as our finances were low;
though we dreaded the doctor’s incapacity, his last fever having been so
severe that he had been bled and blistered several times; but he was now
somewhat better, though weak.
Our passport for Trieste was, during this time, making out, and in half
an hour we were to return for it. In the meantime we went back to the
tavern to make the necessary preparations, and get some breakfast. It
was a luxurious meal. The moment we entered, the landlord presented us
with an answer to Mr. Hewson’s letter, from his friend at Vienna. It
informed us of the success that had attended our application at that
city, with respect to our passports, and contained an order on his
banker at Salzburg, to supply us with what money we might deem necessary
to defray our expenses to Trieste, and enable us to travel with ease and
comfort. Providence appeared too bountiful. We waited on the banker, got
the sum necessary, and called on the worthy Director to give him the
intelligence. He appeared much pleased, congratulated us on our success,
and ordered our passports to be made out to go by the diligence. This
proved very fortunate for our sick companion.
The hour of departure arrived; and now behold us in the diligence, free
from all terrors, and elated to the highest pitch at the consciousness
that we were on the road to the margin of the sea, where we should once
more behold “The meteor flag of England,” and have it again waving over
our heads.
Our journey was interesting. The first night we had to pass through
intricate roads amidst immense mountains covered with snow. The
appearance of the inhabitants was in unison with the scenery. They were
grotesque in dress, and seemed wild. The guard of the diligence was
inclined to be insolent, and evidently abetted the innkeepers in their
“tricks upon travellers”--tricks of extortion. However, at the fourth
stage we got rid of this bad specimen of Nature’s workmanship, for we
were removed from the diligence, and put into a waggon, which took us to
Villach, and thence to Clagenfurt. The waggon was without springs, and,
over the rough mountainous roads, we were jolted almost to death. Our
sick friend must have suffered dreadfully; but he bore his pains with
his usual fortitude and self-command.
In the waggon we were eight in number; our companions were boys who were
returning to the university after the vacation. They annoyed us much
with their colloquial or dog Latin; and the young rogues made us the
subject of their jokes and satire, on the supposition that we could not
understand them.
At Clagenfurt we found that we had missed our road to Trieste by several
leagues, owing to those who had inspected our passports at Villach not
having given us the necessary information. At first we were informed
that we must go back to that town to have the error rectified; but, upon
explaining the difficulties and hardships that attended retracing our
steps, the authorities very kindly did away with every difficulty, and
we retired to the Golden Sun tavern, where we had supper and beds.
We were here apprised that we had better perform the next day’s journey
on foot, as the mountains were so excessively high that if we had a
carriage we should be obliged to walk the greater part of the way. This
information made us determine to proceed on foot the next morning; and
we accordingly rose at daybreak (Sunday, 30th October), and commenced
our journey. Such mountains as we passed this day I never before beheld.
We walked twelve leagues before seven in the afternoon, six of them
almost ascending perpendicularly, and the remaining six descending in
the opposite direction--the great road was zig-zag, but we did not keep
to it. We at last arrived at a small post-town, at the foot of a
prodigious precipice. After getting some refreshments, we took post for
Laibach, and travelled all night. At daybreak we entered the town, and
immediately proceeded to a tavern where we got beds, and retired for a
few hours to rest. Our passport was taken to the Director of Police to
be inspected. At about nine he sent for us, asked us a few questions,
and returned our passport properly endorsed and certified.
On the 31st of October, at ten, we took post for Trieste, and arrived on
the 4th of November, at about eight o’clock, after a most tedious,
harassing, and vexatious journey. The reader who traces the distance on
the map or the _itinéraire_, and calculates the time of our going over
the ground, will understand the vast difference, even at that time,
between English travelling, and travelling on the Continent.
On the night after quitting Laibach we had a very high and precipitous
mountain to ascend; and our horses being of the most sorry breed of
cattle, I dismounted, and took a short cut up the mountain. At eleven at
night I saw an immense bonfire at a distance from the road I was on. A
number of people were collected round it. Not a house was in view; the
carriage was at least four miles below me; and as the road was a perfect
zig-zag, the wild character of the mountain scenery made me hesitate to
approach the spot. At last I got so near that I was discovered, and two
men ran towards me. I had no right to expect courtesy, or decency, or
even safety, in such a wilderness, and the fellows rudely asked me in
German who and what I was. In broken German I told them that I did not
understand what they said, and I asked if they spoke French. They
answered “No.” The whole scene was so awfully wild that it was worthy of
the pencil of Salvator Rosa; and even his pencil could not have done
justice to it. “Do you speak Italian?” said I, and a fierce “No” was my
only satisfaction. At last I ejaculated, “Do you speak English?” and, to
my utter astonishment, both vociferated the English “Yes,” with the
addition “perfectly well.” I was thunderstruck at the reply; for who
would have expected to find the English language on a bleak and barren
mountain in this part of the world? I found that one of the men was a
native Irishman, and that the other was a German that had been long in
the British service. Our countryman, Paddy,--for my companions were also
Irish,--informed me, with a revival of the brogue, which he had
forgotten, or flattered himself that he had forgotten for many years,
that the mountains were so infested with banditti, that he and his party
were posted there to arrest depredators and protect travellers. I must
confess that I thought that these robber-catchers had taken a rather odd
method of pursuing their vocation; as their huge bonfire exposed their
watch-station, and consequently enabled the banditti to avoid them, and
perpetrate their crimes with impunity. Perhaps the Hibernian had
engrafted on the Germans the genius (generally considered indigenous)
of his country for such sort of mistakes. At length the carriage came
up, and, jumping into it, I bade a long adieu to such strange
mountaineer policemen, after giving them a trifle that we could but
badly afford.
I need not dwell on the pleasure we felt this morning at beholding the
gulf of Trieste, and the ships and vessels lying in the harbour, amongst
which was a Russian squadron, consisting of four sail of the line, one
frigate, and a store-ship. We also discovered a ship at anchor some
leagues out, which, to our very great satisfaction, we were informed was
his Britannic Majesty’s frigate the _Unité_, Captain Campball, who, they
said, blockaded that port. This was the most welcome news imaginable. We
were now certain of being able to join our native flag; how did my heart
pant to be afloat on the ocean, and under the English standard! Compared
to that summit of liberty, even my present security and recent freedom
of travelling seemed to me as slavery.
We waited on the Director of police, who received us with great
politeness, and had us conducted to the first tavern in the town;
requesting that we would still say we were Americans. A Borea, or N.E.
wind, which in the Adriatic is most violent, was then setting in: he
assured us it would be impossible to get embarked until the gale abated,
but that he would render us every assistance in due time. There was a
gentleman named Danolan (who had formerly been the English vice-consul)
then in town. We waited on him, and he proved in every sense of the word
a real friend; he engaged to get us embarked, supplied us with cash, and
offered us to remain at his house if we wished: his wife was equally
polite and attentive. The inclemency of the weather was the only thing
at this moment that prevented our happiness being complete.
We returned to the tavern, and passed our moments as comfortably as
possible under existing circumstances; dined at the table d’hôte with
the Russian officers of the squadron, who at first, I imagine, supposed
that we actually were Americans, but afterwards, from a number of
insinuations thrown out by them, and the marked attention they paid us,
I became confident that they had discovered what we were.
Notwithstanding the severity of the weather, Hewson and myself ascended
an adjacent height, when our breasts expanded and our minds glowed at
the sight of the Adriatic. Our concealment in woods, and terrors at
towns, our swampy beds, drenched backs, and starved stomachs, were most
pleasurable reminiscences, when we felt that they had led us to the
“high top gallant of our joy,” and that we now saw our glorious element,
with a little frigate under old England’s flag, blockading the port, and
keeping the whole line of coast in awe. The marine of this coast, I
verily believe, thought that they might as easily fight the devil
himself as attempt to compete with an English squadron.[33] Let us
reflect upon this immense distance from the arsenals and resources of
England, and then shall we see that never had a nation established such
an irresistible superiority over all enemies, as England had consummated
by her naval triumphs, and by her naval economy and management. Thrice
happily did we hail our glorious country, as we saw her flag triumphant
on the wave.
On Monday night, the 7th November, the weather became moderate, the
English frigate got under weigh, and I feared that she might be quitting
her station. So anxious was I to be once more on a quarter-deck, that it
never occurred to me that the blockade could not be raised, and, that if
she left, another must resume the station. We repaired to our friend Mr.
Danolan, who assured us that he had provided all things for our
departure; and, by his arrangement, by half-past eight we had embarked,
and in a short time we were clear of the harbour. However, a few minutes
before we embarked I put into the post-office a letter directed to my
friends Tuthill and Ashworth, in the real German character, giving them
a minute detail of the course we had taken, and all particulars relative
to our successes, which they fortunately received, and which afterwards
enabled them to escape.
We rowed towards the point where I had calculated we should find the
English frigate; but, to our mortification, we were disappointed. When
the moon was up we weighed, and stood out for her; but, to the grief of
my heart, we could not fall in with her. I concealed all the tortures of
my mind, lest I should afflict my comrades.
We kept rowing in different directions, on a sort of forlorn hope, until
daybreak, when we observed a man-of-war’s boat pulling right down for
us. It ran alongside of us, and asked in English what we were. I sprang
up at hearing the English language, and, with inexpressible joy, saw
that it was a British ship-of-war’s boat. I answered that we were three
British subjects who had escaped from a French prison. Having been
informed that it was the _Amphion’s_ boat, I assured the officer we
should be very happy to quit our present conveyance, and take a passage
with him to the frigate. He replied, “The ship is at present at a
considerable distance off; I shall not return until eight o’clock.” I
answered that that was of little consequence; two of us belonged to the
navy, and we would willingly take a cruise along the coast with him, if
he had no objection. “Very well,” was his rejoinder. So we paid our
boatmen, dismissed them, and had the happiness of being once more under
our proper colours, and on our own element.
Upon turning round, and looking at the officer who commanded the boat,
how excessive were my surprise and joy when I instantly recognised
Lieutenant Jones, an old friend and shipmate of 1802. I immediately made
myself known to him, and this excellent fellow exultingly expressed his
gladness that he should have been the officer that had had the good
fortune of picking us up.
I was astonished at finding that the _Amphion_, instead of the _Unité_
frigate, was the ship lying at anchor off Trieste. Lieutenant Jones
cleared the point up by stating that the _Amphion_ had arrived only that
night, and that his Majesty’s ship _L’Unité_ had weighed and stood lower
down the gulf. Strange was it that my old ship and friend should arrive
on the very night that the weather favoured our embarkation from
Trieste.
This morning, November the 8th, 1808, I shall never forget. We felt in
perfect security, and were amusing ourselves by narrating anecdotes of
our escape, recalling to mind the horrors of the “Mansion of Tears,” and
in indulging hopes in favour of our friends within its walls, when at
eight o’clock our amusement was put an end to by the discovery of two
strange sail under Capo d’Istria. We took them for enemy’s
merchant-vessels, stealing along shore. Lieutenant Jones made directly
towards them. One we soon perceived was full of men, and was
endeavouring to separate from the other, and to pull closer in shore.
She had the appearance of a row-boat, whilst her companion was larger,
and was rigged like a _trabaccolo_, or schooner, under Venetian colours.
We concluded that the greater part of the crew had abandoned her, and
were endeavouring to get on shore in the row-boat.
The disparity of force was immense, and every circumstance was against
us; but, although we were only in a frigate’s yawl (a very small boat
comparatively), our gallant officer without hesitation resolved to
board, and make a hand to hand affair of it. The odds were sadly against
us. Who can conceive my pride and elation when I thus found myself
participating in the glories of my profession, and reflected how short a
time had elapsed since I had been either a prisoner in a dungeon, or a
sort of Nebuchadnezzar wandering in the fields and forests. My good
fortune was excessive, in being thus, as it were at a tangent, thrust
into active service,--a ship’s cutlass, a black musket, were good
substitutes for my chains and padlock; and I acted a marine’s part on
this occasion.
We fired several shots to bring the enemy to, which the trabaccolo
returned with compound interest, by letting fly at us from a four or
six pounder. Our gallant little band gave way, _i.e._ pulled towards the
enemy. We could not perceive many men on her deck, but those that were
there kept up a smart fire. At length we got alongside, in the right
English style, when upwards of twenty men suddenly showed themselves,
with an officer at their head, decorated with the Legion of Honour, at
whom I discharged my musket, which I believe took fatal effect. But at
the moment I received a musketoon ball in my right arm, that disabled
it. They poured into us a volley from muskets, musketoons,
blunderbusses, etc. Our bowman and another sailor fell dead; three other
seamen dropt from their wounds, and Green Dick, the pilot, one of them,
died the next day. Jones was also severely wounded. Our little party was
thus sadly thinned. The other vessel, seeing how few were our numbers,
and how much they had been decreased, made towards the trabaccolo with
twenty-two men. We had no alternative, but were under the necessity of
sheering off, and it was only to their dastardly conduct that we
remained indebted for not being again made prisoners. The frigate was
not then in sight, and the confused state of our little crew, two killed
and five wounded, including our brave and gallant officer, would have
rendered us no difficult conquest to so superior a force, had they but
persevered in the attack. Our retreat was covered by the musket of only
_one_ marine, whose name was Hunt; I supplied him with cartridges as
fast as he could load and fire, biting them off and giving them with my
left hand to him. My friend, Barklimore, was of essential service to us,
in binding up our wounds with handkerchiefs, etc., for there were not a
sufficient number of _tourniquets_. My worthy comrade, Hewson, also
greatly distinguished himself as one of the boarders, and afterwards by
tugging at the oar to facilitate our escape.
Lieutenant Jones never made the slightest complaint, nor did he let any
one know that he was wounded, until we were well clear of the enemy,
although it proved to be a most painful and dangerous wound which he had
received; he had also several musket-balls through the crown of his hat.
My wound, through the right arm, as I have observed, disabled it so that
I never fully recovered the strength of it.[34]
At about half-past twelve, or noon, we got alongside my good old ship,
towed by her launch, which they sent out on noticing from the mast-head
our disabled state. We were hoisted on board in a chair, with the utmost
care, the captain and officers evincing much anxiety towards us, and
vieing with each other in offices of kindness. The other two worthy
lieutenants of the _Amphion_, Messrs. Bennet and Phillott, had been on
board of her in my time, and thus was I at home amongst old friends and
shipmates. I had not been heard of for many years, and all that my
brother-officers knew of me was, that I was a prisoner in a French gaol;
judge, therefore, what was their astonishment, when in hoisting in the
wounded they found a stranger, and recognised that stranger to be me. It
seemed to them that I must have dropt from the clouds, for they could
form no conjecture how I came amongst them.
Captain Hoste, though unknown to me, behaved like a parent, and his very
great humanity will never be erased from my grateful recollection;
although he confessed upon my first appearance, he was prejudiced
against me, for he had imagined that I had been the chief of the vessel
Mr. Jones had attacked, and who had done all the mischief to this
officer and his crew. His clerk gave me up his cabin. Mr. Moffat, the
surgeon, and his assistant, Mr. Angus, treated us with the greatest care
and tenderness. The ball, it appeared, having divided the muscles, had
completely laid bare the artery of my arm, grazing without lacerating
it, but so much so, that both of the surgeons, in the first instance,
were of opinion that amputation was unavoidable. My habits for a long
time had been so abstemious that my system was free from any
inflammatory tendency; and to this, I suppose, I may owe my recovering
without suffering the loss of my limb. The whole of the officers were
zealous in affording us every solace and succour that could be expected
by people in our miserable condition, from their generous countrymen.
Sixteen days elapsed, through most of which I had been confined to my
cot. My arm was getting better rapidly, and glad was I to be informed
that Jones was as quickly recovering of his wound. I embraced an
opportunity given me during this period of sixteen days, by a merchant
from Trieste coming on board, to have a letter sent, agreeably to
promise, to the commandant at Lindau, dated “on board H. M. frigate,
_Amphion_, now blockading the port of Trieste,” assuring him how happy I
should be, if ever any opportunity presented itself, of my having it in
my power to convince him that I entertained no vindictive feeling for
the unnecessary severity that I had received at his hand.
H.M. brig _Spider_, commanded by Lieutenant Sandford Oliver, now joined
us from Malta, with orders. She was to return at once, and as I felt
full of anxiety to join the commander-in-chief, off Toulon, or proceed
to England, I got from the surgeon an assurance that there could be no
danger in my being removed. Captain Hoste kindly yielded to my
solicitations to be allowed to take a passage in the _Spider_, though he
added, in the most friendly manner, that if I preferred it, I might
remain with him, until he went down to Malta with a convoy which he
shortly expected. Hewson and I expressed our fear of missing our
promotion, having lost so many years in consequence of our captivity: he
approved of our wishes, and gave us a letter of introduction and
recommendation to Sir Alexander Ball, who was port-admiral and governor
of Malta. We took a cordial leave of all our worthy friends in the
_Amphion_, were conveyed to the _Spider_, and in a short time got under
weigh, standing down the gulf.
Off Corfu I had the satisfaction of seeing the French flag struck, for
the first time after a number of years: the _Spider_ took a bombard (a
vessel with a kind of cutter-rig), laden with wool and gregos
(greatcoats). On the 8th of December we arrived at Malta, and in
consequence of this capture were put into quarantine.
In the meantime, H.M. ship _Woolwich_ was about to sail to England with
a convoy. Admiral Ball had ordered Barklimore a passage in her; but she
unfortunately got out to sea before we could procure him a conveyance.
However, he was put on board a transport belonging to the convoy, and
arrived safe in England. H.M. ship _Proserpine_ was the next day to
proceed off Toulon, to Lord Collingwood; and had we not been in
quarantine, it was the intention of Sir Alexander Ball to have sent us
on board. The _Proserpine_ was taken by the French; therefore we had to
felicitate ourselves on our fifth escape from a French prison. We were
ten days before we got out of quarantine; and on the same day the
_Amphion_ arrived. H.M. ship _Leonidas_ was on the point of sailing to
the fleet;[35] Sir Alexander Ball ordered us a passage, and everything
was arranged for joining the commander-in-chief off Toulon with all
possible expedition.
Prior to our going on board the _Leonidas_, we went off to take leave of
our good friends on board the _Amphion_. Imagine what were our
astonishment and joy when the first person we saw on arriving on her
deck was the companion of our flight, our brother-sufferer Batley, whom,
from his lameness and ill-health, we had been obliged to leave at the
public-house in Baden. Happily for him, he was picked up off Trieste,
and only a few days after we had sailed in the _Spider_. When our mutual
congratulations were over, he briefly related to us the following
particulars of his adventures and fate:--
“The people with whom you had left me in the small village behaved with
great attention, as did likewise the old shoemaker. As soon as I was
perfectly recovered, I quitted them and directed my course towards
Austria; but on the second or third day I was arrested near Elsingen, in
Wirtemberg, and thrown into prison, where I remained five weeks. They
had written to inform the French Government that they had me in
custody; however, before an escort (which they expected) arrived from
France, to conduct me back, I fortunately effected my escape by breaking
out of my gaol.”
I need not observe what sincere pleasure we felt at this recital of his
success, or how extreme was our joy at thus falling in with our so long
lost companion.
We were the first party that had succeeded in escaping from the
dreadfully strong and well-guarded fortress of Bitche. All our friends
of the _Amphion_ were excessively delighted to see us, and Captain Hoste
did everything in his power to forward our wishes.
We took an affectionate leave of them, and embarked on board the
_Leonidas_. The wind, though not fair, was not a barrier to our
departure, for she sailed like a witch; and in four days we arrived at
Minorca. There we changed ships, and embarked on H.M. sloop
_Kingfisher_, for a passage to Gibraltar, to which place it was
calculated that Lord Collingwood had repaired, in his flag-ship the
_Ocean_, having parted from the body of his fleet in a severe easterly
gale.
We proceeded in the _Kingfisher_ as low as Malaga, where we fell in with
the _Weazle_ brig, Captain Prescott, who informed us that, owing to a
change of wind, Lord Collingwood had put his helm up for Malta, where he
intended to repair the damages which he had sustained in the gale. We
therefore returned to Minorca, received fresh despatches, and in five
days arrived at Malta, and joined Lord Collingwood in the _Ocean_. We
had, in a few days, the unspeakable satisfaction of seeing five more of
our fellow-sufferers, all of whom had succeeded in escaping from Bitche,
in consequence of the letter I had written from Trieste, pointing out
the course we had taken. Among these were my brothers in adversity,
Tuthill and Brine. Ashworth had escaped, but had not yet arrived.[36]
The French considered Bitche their stronghold for English prisoners, and
greatly must they have been annoyed and mortified at so many having
triumphed over their force, ingenuity, and vigilance.[37]
Lord Collingwood received us very kindly, and asked us several questions
as to our proceedings and designs. He set us to do duty as midshipmen on
board the _Ocean_, and left Malta for Palermo. We then fell in with the
fleet off Minorca, and accompanied it to Toulon, which port we blockaded
until the 28th of March, 1809. I frequently had the honour of dining
with his lordship, who had the kindness to have me seated near him, and
to assist me in carving, as my arm was so weak, and still in a sling.
His lordship laughed heartily at my informing him that I had written to
the commandant at Lindau agreeably to my promise.
At this time I was overwhelmed with melancholy, and even the joy of my
escape seemed to desert me. I had lost five years of my life at its most
valuable period, in French prisons, and the thought of bringing up so
long an arrear of time in the service was most disheartening. Had I not
been captured I should, ere this, if I had lived, have been at least a
lieutenant, if not a commander--trusting to opportunities to distinguish
myself for further promotion. Now, at my age, I was only a midshipman.
These gloomy thoughts, however, were soon relieved, for Lord Collingwood
appointed me the next day, the 29th, to a lieutenancy in a court-martial
vacancy in the _Warrior_, Captain J. W. Spranger.