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.
On 13th February, at about 10 o’clock P.M., after a long chase we
captured the _Vigilante_, a French courier gunboat bound for Otranto
with despatches, which, of course, were thrown overboard before we took
possession of her. She had on board of her General Bordé with his staff,
who, we had discovered by intercepted letters, was then on his passage
to take the command of the French forces at Verona.
At 2 A.M., being about ten or twelve miles from Otranto, a sail was
perceived steering for that port. The wind being very light, our boats
were despatched under Lieutenant Hood, who captured the enemy by
boarding, in a gallant style, after a warm salute of grape and musketry,
and before the rest of our boats could join him. This brave exploit
reflected the greatest honour on this officer and his boat’s crew.
The prize proved to be the _Alcinous_, carrying a twenty-four-pounder
carronade forward and an eighteen-pounder abaft. She had left Corfu with
eight merchant-vessels, the whole of which we captured. The only person
wounded on this occasion was the gallant commander, Lieutenant Hood, who
received an injury in the vertebræ, which eventually deprived him of the
use of the lower extremities by paralysis.
Of our three recent prizes, which were missing when we left Zante, we
now found that one had arrived at her place of destination, but the
third was still unheard of, and a most melancholy account was given of
the second, under the command of Mr. Cornwallis Paley, a fine, promising
young gentleman, who was beloved and esteemed by our captain and by
everybody on board, and who had distinguished himself in the action off
Lissa.
Mr. Paley’s crew, on taking charge of the prize, consisted of three
excellent seamen and a young lad, a mizzen-top man. Three of the Italian
prisoners were left on board, to assist in navigating the vessel. After
parting company, a fourth Italian, who had been concealed in the hold,
made his appearance on deck. It turned out that he had been the
principal person who was interested in the vessel and cargo. The brave
and honourable Englishman, influenced by his humanity, allowed the
supplicating creature to join his countrymen. He was plausible and
obsequious, and poor Paley, it appears, had rather liked his society as
a relief to the dulness and monotony of his passage. Becalmed off Corfu,
this miscreant proposed to Mr. Paley to anchor, which he did, and went
below to dinner with his three seamen, leaving the four Italians and
the English lad on deck. The Italians watched their opportunity, and
seizing the young man murdered him, and then laid on the hatches to keep
the English below. Poor Paley, hearing a noise on deck, suspected that
all was not right, and starting from the table he forced one of the
hatches up sufficiently to thrust his head on deck, when the inhuman
wretches seized him by the hair, pulled his head back on the combings,
and instantly cut his throat. The other three Englishmen were attacked
in succession, and hewed down with an axe: the murderers eventually took
the vessel into Corfu, where poor Paley and two of our seamen were
interred; the other two, after they had recovered from their wounds,
were exchanged and sent on board of us; and from them we learnt the
appalling information. Was it not disgraceful that the public
authorities did not bring these criminals to justice? Allowing prisoners
to rise upon their captors can only have the effect of obliging
conquerors to increase the severity inseparable from captivity, even in
its mildest form; but when prisoners resort to butchery and murder, it
behoves all civilised governments to bring them to justice.
For want of bread and provisions we were now obliged to repair to Malta;
and from thence we returned to Zante and the Adriatic, to bid adieu to
Admiral Freemantle--Captain Hoste having, in the interim, received
orders from the commander-in-chief (Sir Edward Pellew) to join him off
Toulon.
But, having again arrived at Malta on 19th April, I almost immediately
received from Captain Hoste the joyful news that the Admiralty, in
reward of my services up to 18th September 1812, had promoted me to the
rank of commander. It would be injustice to my kind friends, were any
fears of being accused of vanity to make me hesitate in saying that my
promotion was hailed by my brave captain, and all my brother officers
and the ship’s company, with a cordiality most grateful to my feelings.
On the 22nd I quitted my companions in arms and my social friends, and
bade adieu to the glorious frigate _Bacchante_, which received counter
orders from Sir Edward Pellew to return to the Adriatic station.
My commission was dated 22nd January, sixteen days after I had been
engaged in capturing the Corfu flotilla; and, in the hope that the
arrival of the news of this victory would induce their lordships of the
Admiralty to give me the command of a sloop-of-war in the Mediterranean,
I remained at Malta, though the plague was raging most violently. It was
the doctrine of the medical profession that the disease could be taken,
not by infection, but only by contact, and therefore, mounted on a
spirited charger, I daily rode through all parts of the city.
Captain Hollis of the _Achille_ found difficulty in taking me as a
passenger to England, from an apprehension that I might communicate the
plague; and at last I sailed in H.M. bomb-ship _Thunder_, commanded by
Watkin O. Pell.
In passing through the Straits of Bonifacio we ineffectually chased
several of the Corsican coral-boats. Some of our cruisers were more
fortunate. The _Rainbow_, Captain William Gawen Hamilton, caught two of
them.
We made the land off Toulon early in the morning, and narrowly did we
escape capture. We were delighted at discovering what we supposed to be
our own Mediterranean fleet, consisting of sixteen sail of the line,
about ten miles from Cape Sicie. We should have rushed into the arms of
supposed friends, had we not found, on coming within signal distance,
that our private signal was not answered. The enemy, the better to
deceive us, kept four sail of the line in advance (for which we
steered, and made our signal to them), so that the remaining twelve
might appear as a French fleet in chase of an English squadron.
Discovering our error, we crowded all sail, and the caution of the enemy
was evinced; for we sailed heavily, yet they dared not follow us
(although they had a leading wind), lest they should lose the
opportunity of regaining their port.
At Gibraltar, I had the satisfaction of receiving numerous letters from
friends at home, some of them of very old dates, that had been in
pursuit of me all over the Mediterranean and Levant.
At length we arrived at Portsmouth, and had to remain for six weeks in
quarantine at the Mother-Bank. The joys of revisiting our own country
were thus most cruelly damped. Never did men suffer more of
tantalization. However, on the 4th of October, I had the happiness of
putting my foot on England’s soil. I landed at Portsmouth, bade adieu to
my hospitable host of the _Thunder_, and his kind and excellent
officers, and made arrangements to proceed to London.
I had to regret that I had not gone up the Channel with my friend
Captain Pell, who was ordered to take the _Thunder_ to Woolwich. Off the
Oars’ light, he discovered a lugger to windward, under easy sail, which
he suspected to be an enemy. Captain Pell directly altered his course,
and bore up for the land, as if, to avoid capture, he intended to run
his ship on shore. He yawed and steered wildly, and by these, and other
symptoms of fear and confusion, the enemy was completely deceived. The
lugger soon came up with the chase, and made an awful display of
boarders; her decks being crowded with armed men. She at last hailed
Captain Pell to strike his colours, or she would sink him. The order, of
course, was not obeyed, and the lugger put her helm up to board. Pell
immediately put his helm the contrary way, which instantly brought the
boasting and confident enemy across the hawse of H.M. ship _Thunder_,
and not of the harmless merchantman they had supposed. The brave and
ingenious Pell had now succeeded both in his stratagem and manœuvre;
and, seizing on the critical moment, he poured into the astonished
Frenchmen the full contents of grape and canister of four guns; and,
following this up by a volley of musketry, he rushed with his men (whom
he had hitherto kept concealed) upon the enemy’s deck, and soon was the
English flag floating over the tricolour. The enemy had four men killed
and ten wounded; the _Thunder_ had only two wounded. This was a
fortunate finale to our gallant officer’s cruise. The prize proved to be
the _Neptune_, of sixteen guns, with a complement of sixty-five men
actually on board; and the capture was important, as this fast-sailing,
well-equipped vessel had been a great annoyance to our trade in the
Channel. She was taken into Ramsgate. My friend, Captain Pell, was most
deservedly advanced, for his numerous services, to the rank of
post-captain, on the first of the ensuing month of November.
Arrived in London, the first Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Melville,
received me courteously, and complimented me on my promotion, which he
was pleased to say I had won by my services and merit. I pointed out to
his lordship that the important capture of the Corfu flotilla, which had
been achieved by me, was unknown in England when my promotion had been
given to me, and I urged that I hoped this last service might procure me
a ship. Lord Melville’s reply was, on my taking leave of his lordship,
“You shall go afloat, Captain O’Brien; we will not keep you on shore.”
Most joyfully was I received by all my friends; whilst my naval
companions congratulated me on the certainty of my soon receiving an
eligible command. Week after week did I remain in the expensive
metropolis, in the hope of getting a ship.
The success of the Americans at sea, and the capture of the gallant
_Guerrière_,[46] by her leviathan opponent, now formed the subject of
public and private conversation. I felt most anxious to be on the shores
of the New World; but after writing to Lord Melville, and reminding him
of his promise, I received an official reply, “That I was noted for
consideration _at a convenient opportunity_.”
It was clear that a long holiday was before me, so passing over to
Ireland I had the heavenly happiness of embracing my honoured and
beloved parents, who had come to the Irish metropolis to receive me. Let
no man undervalue the happiness of life who has felt the joy of
embracing parents, after a long and painful absence, in which he has
suffered much, and has been also fortunate in bearing a distinguished
part in participating in honourable public services.
During the autumn of 1814 I was attacked with ague, a disease common to
the bay of Dublin, and was in a state of convalescence when I received a
welcome and unexpected official letter from the Admiralty, desiring me
to repair immediately to London.
I proceeded to London forthwith, but, from a boisterous and unpleasant
passage, had a relapse of the disease. However, as soon as I was equal
to it, I saw Mr. Hay, the private secretary of the First Lord of the
Admiralty, who received me very kindly; and the interview ended in his
requesting me to leave my London address, as it was the intention of the
First Lord to give me a ship.
I thanked Mr. Hay very much for the information, and took my leave by
stating to him that I had been confined to my bed a fortnight, and that
this was my first attempt at moving out.
Day after day I passed in feverish anxieties for the arrival of the
letter appointing me to a command. Days, weeks, months, and, I may say,
years passed, and no such letter was received.
Unfortunately for me, Napoleon had fallen six months before, and peace
with America was now talked of; to this I attribute mainly the neglect
of my incessant and anxious applications to be employed. The reply
always was, that “I was noted for consideration at a convenient
opportunity”; but there was added after a time the unhappy news, “that
it was not intended at present to place any more ships in commission.”
I had seen my last war service, and may now bring my narrative to a
conclusion.
Whatever may have been the circumstances of my captivity, the painful
adventures that I was destined to endure, and the innumerable varieties
of incidents that were crowded into my chequered fate, I trust that one
thing is evident to the reader--that the honour of the British empire,
with the character of the naval service, has always been uppermost in my
mind: that I have ever loyally served--
The flag that braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze.
FINIS
APPENDIX
_A Copy of_ MR. ARCHIBALD BARKLIMORE’S _Letter to_ Capt. D. H. O’BRIEN,
_on his arriving in England_.
_14 Dean Street, Soho_,
MY DEAR O’BRIEN--I hasten, knowing how anxious you will be to hear from
your old fellow-traveller and fellow-prisoner, to inform you of my safe
arrival in London, where I have been received and welcomed by numerous
friends, as if I had actually been a resuscitated creature from the
other world.
When I now look around me and see the cheerful countenances of the
people of Old England, blessed in security under a paternal and just
Government, I cannot help contrasting them with the meagre, squalid
faces of those we have left behind, groaning under the tyranny of an
usurper. Nor can I, my dear friend, conceal from you that I feel a
something within me which proclaims aloud the great superiority of the
British nation, and makes me no longer wonder that her sons, with their
daring spirit, should break through prisons, bolts, and bars, and fly to
protect so sacred a home! Shall I ever forget our exploits in scaling
ramparts, eluding the vigilance of sentinels and guards, and all the
hairbreadth ’scapes we had to encounter, from the time we got clear of
the fortress of Bitche, until you had been hoisted up in a chair, with
your disabled arm (which I fear you will lose), on board the _Amphion_?
That, my good friend, was a severe conflict, and one which I shall never
forget. It was the first time I had ever set my foot on board of a
British ship-of-war’s boat; and it will be, I hope, a very long time
before I again volunteer to go a cruise in one upon the enemy’s
coast--at all events on the coast of Dalmatia.
A very remarkable circumstance has occurred since you and I parted, and
would appear more like those unnatural tales of romance, of which we
read in novels, than anything founded in truth incontestable. You must
recollect the miserable and destitute plight in which our unfortunate
companion, poor Batley, was, when we were driven to the necessity of
leaving him at Rastadt: well, he was again arrested in Würtemberg, and
confined closely in a prison; whence, after some weeks, he had the good
fortune to outwit his keepers, and effect his escape. The poor fellow’s
funds were now nearly exhausted, and little or no hope left him of ever
being able to succeed. In this forlorn state, quite desponding, and
overwhelmed with anguish, his singular appearance--you know what a tall,
meagre, poor-looking creature “fat Jack” was--caught the eye of a lady
who happened to be passing at that moment on the road. Her benign
countenance gave him courage; he advanced and accosted her in his best
manner--for Jack had the manners and address of a gentleman--explained
to her candidly who he was, and his deplorable situation, and earnestly
begged she would assist him in prosecuting his journey to Trieste. Most
fortunately for him, this lady proved to be the wife of an officer at
that time in the British army. She entered fully into his distressed
condition, procured him the means which enabled him to reach Vienna;
thence he proceeded to Trieste, where he found your old ship _Amphion_
ready to sail for Malta, and arrived there only, he stated, a few
minutes before honest Hewson and you had quitted Malta in the
_Leonidas_, to join Lord Collingwood.
The ship which I was in touched at Gibraltar; and on landing there, the
first person I met was my long-lost friend Batley: never were two people
more surprised and better pleased to catch once more a sight of each
other. He immediately quitted his vessel, and engaged a passage in the
same ship with me, and we arrived safe in England together.
I remain, My dear O’Brien,
Your sincere friend,
(Signed) ARCHD. BARKLIMORE.
_2nd April 1809._
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The most celebrated bearers of the name were Donogh O’Brien, King
of Thomond (1208-1244), and Earl Donough O’Brien (1577-1624), one
of Queen Elizabeth’s few Irish loyalists and a noted fighter in her
behalf.
[2] One of the ships surrendered at the Texel in 1799.
[3] I here feel it a duty to state, that, for the boats which we
seized from the poor fishermen, bills of exchange were given to the
full amount of their value upon the English Government.
[4] Pointe St. Mathieu, on the left upon entering Brest.
[5] The step is that part of the mast that fixes in the boat; the
fore-tye, the rope by which the foresail is hoisted up.
[6] He escaped, subsequently to me, with some other naval officers,
from Bitche.
[7] Probably the _Préfet Maritime_ of Brest is meant; the Minister of
Marine would of course be at Paris.
[8] In Sir Jahleel Brenton’s interesting _Autobiography_ the reader
may find a long account of the misery prevalent among the British
prisoners at Givet, and of the efforts which he took to get their
grievances redressed.
[9] He died at Port Mahon on the 25th of July 1811, having been
mortally wounded on 28th June, the day of the storming of Tarragona by
Marshal Suchet.
[10] They made midshipmen, notwithstanding their officers were
responsible for them, attend two _appels_, or musters, _per diem_; the
not appearing at the exact time was formerly a fine of three livres
(2s. 6d.), but afterwards the offenders were sent to Sarrelouis or
Bitche, the depots of punishment.
[11] This town is seated on the banks of the river Serre, in Picardy.
We learned since that it is famous for serge manufactories.
[12] Ashworth and Tuthill, as we shall see, were recaptured by the
_gendarmes_ almost immediately. They were sent to Bitche and shared
O’Brien’s captivity there. Ultimately they escaped, though not in our
hero’s company, and made their way, like him, to Trieste, where they
reached an English ship.
[13] Certainly not Zürich, which is over thirty miles away, with some
high ground between. Perhaps O’Brien means Schaffhausen.
[14] The Ueberlinger See, or northern arm of the forked Boden See.
[15] O’Brien’s political geography is all wrong here. Both Constance
and his destination, Meersburg, were in Baden territory. Hence there
was no frontier difficulty, or requisition for passports. He really
crossed the Würtemberg and Bavarian frontiers without knowing it,
during his night march between Meersburg and Lindau.
[16] Erroneous geography. Meersburg, the town to which the ferry from
Constance ran, is still in Baden.
[17] Probably Fischbach in Würtemberg, seven miles east of Meersburg.
O’Brien must have eluded the frontier guard without knowing it.
[18] This would be Nonnenhorn, four miles west of Lindau, on the
lake-shore.
[19] But before I quitted the commandant’s presence, I took the
liberty of assuring him, that even if I was sent back to France, I
felt confident that, by the blessing of God, I should again effect my
escape, and in which case I would write and inform him of my success.
This I eventually did from Trieste. I recollect relating this anecdote
to Lord Collingwood at his table on board the _Ocean_, his flag-ship,
off Toulon, and at which he appeared highly pleased.
[20] Evidently a slip for Munich, to which the application would be
forwarded. Ulm is in Würtemberg, not in Bavaria.
[21] This was probably the town of Stockach.
[22] This small town had suffered greatly by fire, and had been lately
entirely new built. It is situated on the Danube, thirty-three miles
N.W. of Constance.
[23] This is the person I alluded to as an exception, with the kind
gaoler at Arras, to all others that I met with in France.
[24] In the Franco-German war of 1870-71 Bitche was still so strong,
even against modern artillery, that it maintained itself long after
Strasburg, Metz, and all the other eastern fortresses had fallen, and
was, along with Belfort, the only place where a really lengthy and
obstinate defence was made.
[25] For a full text of the proceedings of this court-martial, the
reader may consult Mr. Ashworth’s account of his adventures, published
in Nos. 28, 31, 33 of the _Naval Chronicle_.
[26] Apparently Lauterburg.
[27] Batley was destined to escape. For the details of his adventures
see Barklimore’s letter in Appendix A.
[28] It is impossible to say what O’Brien means by this. The
hereditary prince of Baden, though in great favour with Napoleon, and
married to Stephanie Beauharnais, his adopted daughter, was never made
a king.
[29] Pope, in the “Essay on Man.”
[30] O’Brien alludes to the Wagram campaign, then only six months in
the future.
[31] Napoleon’s last wild extension of the Continental System provided
that a neutral ship should be considered fair prize if it had visited
a British port, or even been searched by a British cruiser.
[32] This certificate I have still by me. It was given me by Lieut.
Henry T. Lutwidge, our second lieutenant, a worthy officer, in Verdun,
on 21st February 1807, and now a commander.
[33] In November 1808, the date of O’Brien’s stay in Trieste, all the
eastern shores of the Adriatic were French territory save the small
strips of land about Trieste and Fiume, which were Austrian. Dalmatia
and Istria, like the other old dominions of Venice, had been annexed
to Napoleon’s kingdom of Italy. In 1809 the Emperor appropriated
Trieste and Fiume also, after his victory over Austria at Wagram. Thus
O’Brien, a year later, would have found Trieste French.
[34] For this very serious wound, I have never received any pension,
as it was not considered equivalent to the loss of a limb, when I was
surveyed by order of the Lords of the Admiralty in May, 1817; and yet
what is the difference between the loss of a limb, and the loss of the
use of a limb?
[35] _I.e._ the Mediterranean squadron, then under Lord Collingwood,
engaged in the blockade of Toulon.
[36] It appeared that the brigadier of _gendarmes_ had been invited by
them to take a share of their dinner, on the very day that my letter
had arrived. He handed Tuthill _this_ letter, saying it was not an
English but a German one, and, contrary to the usual custom, he did
not break the seal or inspect it: of course, it was not perused until
after dinner, and after he had departed.
[37] From Ashworth’s narrative in the _Naval Chronicle_, vol. xxviii.,
it appears that he, with Tuthill, Brine, and two others escaped on 8th
December, 1808, by means of a rope just similar to that which O’Brien
had employed. They got safely off, and reached Trieste in February.
[38] The reader will find in vol. v. of James’s _Naval History_ many
similar extracts from this same source.
[39] In order to realise the disparity of force, it is only necessary
to give the list of the two squadrons--
FRANCO-ITALIAN.
[The first three ships were of the French, the others of the Italian
navy.]
_Favorite_ 40 guns Commodore B. Dubourdieu.
_Flore_ 40 “ Captain J. Alexandre Péridier.
_Danaë__ 40 “ ? ? ? ?
_Corona_ 40 “ Captain Paschaligo.
_Bellona_ 32 “ Captain Duodo.
_Carolina_ 32 “ Captain Palicuccia.
With the _Mercurio_ brig (16 guns), a 10-gun schooner, a 6-gun xebek,
and two gunboats.
BRITISH.
_Amphion_ 32 guns Commodore William Hoste.
_Active_ 38 “ Captain J. A. Gordon.
_Cerberus_ 32 “ Captain Henry Whitley.
_Volage_ 22 “ Captain Phipps Hornby.
Excluding the small vessels the enemy had 224 guns, the British 124!
[40] This twenty-line sentence deserves note as being perhaps the
longest in modern English literature.
[41] In justice to an intrepid Gallic son of Neptune, who called forth
general admiration, I must say that at the moment the _Flore_ made the
effort to board the _Amphion_, a seaman appeared standing on her fore
yard-arm, holding a fire-grapnel ready to hurl upon our decks; nor did
he quit his perilous position until dislodged by our musketry, after
several balls had struck the grapnel, when he flung it, but, being
too far off, without effect, and, hastening to the opposite yard-arm,
jumped overboard. The ultimate fate of this heroic fellow we could
never learn, but I fear he must have perished.
[42] The guns being double-shotted.
[43] This letter Captain Hoste afterwards forwarded, under a flag of
truce, to the captain of the _Flore_, to which an answer was written
by the captain of the _Danaë_, stating the inability of M. Péridier
to reply on account of his wound, and denying that the _Flore_ had
struck; but the _Danaë’s_ captain, as if ashamed of his name, sent his
letter without a signature.
[44] See Appendix, No. II.
[45] This was the midshipman who made the sketch from which the
illustration facing page 314 is reproduced.
[46] Captured by the _Constitution_, Aug. 19, 1812. The American
frigate was decidedly a larger and stronger vessel, yet hardly enough
so to justify O’Brien in calling her a “leviathan.”
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
but this was considerable preferable=> but this was considerably
preferable {pg 69}
the goaler’s wife=> the gaoler’s wife {pg 178}
with it broad expanse=> with its broad expanse {pg 229}
quitting the territory of Wurtemberg=> quitting the territory of
Würtemberg {pg 245}