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 manoeuvre; 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—

FINIS