CAPTAIN JOHN O’BRIEN OF MACHIAS, MAINE—REVOLUTIONARY HERO—A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.
BY REV. ANDREW M. SHERMAN, LL. D., OF MORRISTOWN, NEW JERSEY.
Captain John O’Brien, the subject of this sketch, was the third eldest son of Morris O’Brien and Mary O’Brien, and was born in 1750, in Scarboro, on the Maine seacoast, about ten miles to the southwestward of Portland.
At the early period under present review, the region including Scarboro was greatly harassed by the Indians, whose depredations are said to have sometimes been instigated by the French, who were jealous of the English settlers in western Maine (then a part of the Province of Massachusetts), and hoped to thus drive out the English already there, and prevent others from coming into what was regarded as preëmpted territory.
In consequence of the frequent attacks of the Indians upon the English, at Scarboro, it sometimes became necessary, as a means of self-preservation, for the settlers to flee into the surrounding wilderness, and there carefully secrete themselves until the savages should depart from the vicinity; when they would return to their homes, which were sometimes found to have been despoiled and destroyed during their enforced absence.
While John O’Brien was an infant in his mother’s arms, an attack upon the English settlement at Scarboro, by the Indians, was threatened; and it was therefore resolved to flee for safety into the surrounding wilderness. Fearing that the crying of the infant would disclose to the savages the direction to be taken by the settlers in their flight, and also their chosen hiding-place, it was advised, and insisted that the mother leave her infant behind, in the settlement. Against this she earnestly protested, assuring her neighbors that she could keep the infant quiet. She was, therefore, allowed to take the infant along. Folding him affectionately to her breast, and soothing him as only a fond mother could, she succeeded in keeping the infant quiet, not only during their hasty flight but during their sojourn in the depths of the wilderness.
This incident is related by the descendants of Captain John O’Brien as a most impressive illustration of mother-love, which, indeed, it is. They congratulate themselves also upon the fact that an infant who, on reaching manhood, became so famous as he as a patriot and as a successful privateersman in connection with the Revolution; and so conspicuous, in later years, as a citizen and as a man of affairs, should have been thus providentially preserved in tender infancy from the hands of hostile Indians.
To the terrors of Indian depredations, experienced by the early settlers of Scarboro, were added those of extensive forest fires, which sometimes devastated the entire region about them, and threatened their extinction.
Of the boyhood of John O’Brien, in Scarboro, little has been preserved. He must, however, have been different from other boys of his age, if he did not, living in such close proximity to the water, acquire a fondness for it. This much is certainly known; that in the autumn of 1765, when the robust boy was about fifteen years of age, the entire family, comprising Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien and six sons and three daughters, removed to Machias, on the southeasterly coast of Maine; the father and two eldest sons having been down there on a prospecting trip, in a sailing vessel, during the previous year.
From the arrival of the lad, John O’Brien, in Machias, until the breaking out of the Revolution, little or nothing is certainly known concerning him. That he attended school, for a time, at least; and that he engaged in the usual sports of lusty boyhood, including swimming, fishing and boating, may be safely inferred. Neither is it a far-fetched conclusion, that, on attaining to a suitable age, he assisted his father, and two eldest brothers, Jeremiah and Gideon, in the sawmills erected by them in Dublin, as the southern village of Machias was early named, and by which it is still known.
The Machias River, which separates the northern and southern villages of Machias, empties into Machias Bay, about four miles to the southeastward of the town; and the river, as far inland as Machias, is navigable for large vessels. Machias, therefore, was, and is a seaport town; and vessels of various kinds were constantly arriving and leaving. Machias early became the shiretown of Lincoln County, now Washington County, and hence was a place of considerable importance. In the light of these facts it is not surprising that most of Morris O’Brien’s “six strapping boys” were, in early life, at least, seafaring men; for from their peculiar environment they naturally acquired a taste for that sort of employment. John O’Brien, as will be seen, devoted himself, in later life, exclusively to commercial and mercantile pursuits, with excellent success; indeed, had the acquisition of “filthy lucre” been his chief ambition, he might easily have become one of the wealthiest men of his time.
It is in connection with the outbreak of the Revolution that the subject of this sketch first comes into public notice as a citizen and an ardent patriot; and as the war progressed, his fame as a privateersman increased. His achievements as a privateersman have never received the publicity they unquestionably deserve; and it will be the aim of this sketch to acquaint the American reading people, so far as can be done in the limited space allowed, with the story of the truly romantic career of this hitherto “unsung hero” of New England.
John O’Brien, at the outbreak of the Revolution, was about twenty-four years of age. He was fully six feet in height; and must have weighed at that time not far from one hundred and seventy-five pounds. That he was well endowed with force of character was amply demonstrated at the very opening of his public career; as an illustration of which it may be said that none was more resolutely opposed to, nor more fearlessly outspoken against the repeated acts of tyranny of the mother country, than he. He was a member of the first Committee of Safety appointed in Machias, after the issuance of the proclamation of the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, authorizing and requiring preparations and efforts to be made incident to a state of hostility.
At the first recorded gathering of the Machias patriots, held in the east room of the Burnham Tavern,[[21]] John O’Brien was present, and gave his hearty assent to the proposition for the erection of a liberty pole in the village, as a symbol of the freedom, for the achievement of which the people of that then isolated frontier town were willing, if need be, to sacrifice their fortunes and their lives. In procuring, and afterward raising the liberty pole, young O’Brien played a unique and conspicuous part.
When Captain Moore, the gallant young Irishman commanding the British armed schooner “Margaretta,” then lying at anchor in the Machias River, came on shore, and demanded that the liberty pole be taken down, John O’Brien, on behalf of the inhabitants, defiantly refused to accede to the peremptory demand of the King’s officer, The following conversation[[22]] is said to have taken place:
“Who erected this pole?” inquired Captain Moore, as he came ashore from the “Margaretta”; to which the staunch Machias patriot, John O’Brien, replied:
“That pole, sir, was erected by the unanimous approval of the people of Machias.”
“Well, sir,” said Moore, “with or without their approval, it is my duty to declare it must come down.”
“Must come down!” repeated O’Brien, with warmth. “Those words are easily spoken, my friend. You will find, I apprehend, that it is easier to make than it will be to enforce a demand of this kind.”
“What! Am I to understand that resistance will be made? Will the people of Machias dare to disregard an order, not originating with me, but the government whose officer I am?”
“The people of Machias,” replied O’Brien, “will dare do anything in maintenance of their principles and rights!”
“It is useless to bandy words,” rejoined the officer, a little nettled at the determined spirit manifested around him; “my orders are peremptory, and must be obeyed. That liberty pole must be taken down, or it will be my painful duty to fire on the town!”
From that rash act, however, Moore was dissuaded by a mutual friend; and the liberty pole stood until it “rotted down!”
To John O’Brien, so it is said by some writers, belongs the honor of proposing, at a meeting of the Machias patriots, held in a private house soon after the notable gathering in the Burnham Tavern, that Captain Moore be seized while attending the village church, on the following Sunday; after which, in accordance with the well-conceived plan there agreed upon, the “Margaretta” was to be captured, also. In compliance with young O’Brien’s expressed wish, he was chosen to be the principal actor in the proposed seizure of Moore.
John O’Brien, as he subsequently stated, hid his gun under a board, before entering the church. He was expected, at a signal to be given by one of the patriots outside of the church, to personally seize Captain Moore, when his compatriots were to come to his assistance. So far as young O’Brien was concerned, the preliminaries were well carried out. Because of the vigilance and prompt action of the British officer, however, the plan for the seizure miscarried. Receiving timely warning of the trap into which he was being lured, he escaped from the church by way of a low, open window. On reaching his vessel, he was quickly assisted on board by an officer awaiting his arrival; and, after firing a few shots over the villagers’ heads, for intimidation, he dropped down the river to a place of safety.
When it had been resolved by a few of the bolder spirits of Machias to attack and capture the “Margaretta,” by pursuing and boarding her, John O’Brien and his five brothers, Jeremiah, Gideon, William, Dennis and Joseph, were among the party of about thirty-five who sailed down the Machias River in the lumber sloop “Unity,” on that extremely hazardous undertaking. After the little American sloop had entered Machias Bay, and the “Margaretta” had been sighted, Jeremiah O’Brien was unanimously chosen to the command of the “Unity.”
“The first man who boards her (the “Margaretta”) shall be entitled to the palm of honor,” said Captain Jeremiah O’Brien, soon after taking command of the lumber sloop.
After the “Margaretta” had been sighted in Machias Bay, where she was becalmed, the American sloop was brought alongside of her. As the two vessels came together, the rigging of the “Unity” became entangled with that of the British vessel. The two vessels had no sooner touched, than John O’Brien, who was standing at the bow of the “Unity,” leaped aboard the “Margaretta.” Almost at the same moment, the American sloop, having no grappling-irons, the vessels suddenly parted and young O’Brien was left alone on the quarterdeck of the British schooner. Seven Britishers almost simultaneously fired at the intrepid Yankee boarder; but he was unhurt. The Britishers then charged upon O’Brien with their bayonets; and to save his life he jumped overboard and started to swim to the Yankee sloop, which had then drifted about seventy-five feet away.
On reaching the side of the American sloop, John O’Brien was promptly assisted on board. As he stepped upon the deck of the “Unity,” his brother, Captain Jeremiah, grasped him by the hand, exclaiming, as he did so:
“Brother John, you’ve won the palm;” and then addressing his men, he continued: “But man the sweeps, my hearties, and lay us alongside once more, and stand ready to fasten on to him when you reach him.”
For the second time the two vessels came together; and this time, in accordance with orders, they were fastened together.[[23]] The “Margaretta” was boarded, and in an hour’s time was captured, and was taken in triumph up the river to Machias, reaching the wharf at about sunset of the same day, which was the 12th of June, 1775. Captain Moore, the gallant commander of the captured British vessel, was mortally wounded, and died next day in Machias.
John O’Brien, as a recognition of the conspicuous bravery exhibited by him in the capture of the “Margaretta,” was sent, by the Machias Committee of Safety to the Provincial Congress, then in session at Watertown, Massachusetts, to officially inform that body of the brilliant victory won, and to ask protection for the feeble settlements in eastern Maine, including Machias.
The news of the splendid victory in Machias Bay spread rapidly through the Colonies, and everywhere the colonists were stirred with the ambition to emulate the achievement of the Machias lumbermen.
The “Unity” was at once fitted out as a cruiser, the armament of the “Margaretta” being transferred to her. She was re-named the “Machias Liberty,”[[24]] and Captain Jeremiah O’Brien was appointed as her commander.
After the capture, in July, 1775, of the British armed vessels “Diligence” and “Tapnaquish,” near Buck’s harbor, in which captures John O’Brien, on his brother Jeremiah’s vessel took part, the former vessel was refitted as an American cruiser. Of the “Machias Liberty” (or “O’Brien”), Jeremiah O’Brien was continued as commander; and his younger brother, William, was appointed First Lieutenant. John Lambert was appointed to the command of the “Diligence,” and John O’Brien was appointed as First Lieutenant. The “Diligence” had a crew of forty men, and carried eight guns and twenty swivels.
For nearly a year, the “Machias Liberty” and the “Diligence,” by order of the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, cruised, chiefly up and down the eastern coast, protecting American shipping, and capturing British prizes. John O’Brien contributed in no small measure to the success of the cruise. Sometime in the early part of 1776 the “Diligence” was laid up; but the “Machias Liberty” was continued a few months longer in the Provincial service.
During the night following its capture, the “Margaretta” was taken up Middle River, a branch of the Machias River, a few miles, and there beached.[[25]] “We cut down trees and bushes and enclosed her from view so much as we could and returned to Machias in season for a late breakfast,” said one who took an active part in the disposal of the captured British schooner.
Early in the autumn of 1776, John O’Brien, and a few others, uncovered and floated the “Margaretta,” and brought her down the Middle River and fitted her out as a privateer. New sails were made, a few five-pounders were placed on board; and with a crew of about twenty men she set sail, under the command of Captain John O’Brien, in search of British prizes, of which he brought several into Machias.
It was late in September or early in October, 1776, that the “Margaretta,” re-named the “Machias Cruiser,” sailed from Machias, going westward. When in the vicinity of Mt. Desert, O’Brien espied in the offing what he supposed was a British merchant vessel, going to the eastward. Upon drawing nearer to the vessel, with a view to giving her battle, O’Brien ascertained that she was a British warship. Crowding on all sail, he turned the prow of the “Machias Cruiser” away from the enemy, for which he well knew his vessel was no match. He hoped to be able to reach Machias Bay, and there find harbor and shelter. The British warship was gaining rapidly on the American vessel; sending a shot now and then after O’Brien, whose vessel, however, remained unharmed. When off Sawyer’s Cove, about forty miles to the eastward of Mt. Desert, O’Brien, who saw that he would be overtaken by his fleet pursuer, ran his vessel into the cove, beached her on the flats, and he and his men jumped into the shallow water and swam and waded ashore. They found shelter in half a dozen dwelling houses in the vicinity. This was the first and the last defeat Captain John O’Brien, in his long career, ever suffered.
As near as can now be ascertained, it was sometime during 1778 or early in 1779, that Captain John O’Brien removed to Newburyport, Massachusetts; and his brothers, Dennis and Joseph, soon after followed him to the same village in Newbury township. In Newburyport, the three brothers jointly engaged in mercantile and commercial pursuits.
On the 21st of September, 1779, Captain John O’Brien and Miss Hannah Tappan, daughter of Richard Tappan, were united in marriage. They had first met during a previous visit of Captain O’Brien to Newburyport. It is said that Miss Tappan was at first attracted to Captain O’Brien because of what she had heard of his highly meritorious connection with the capture of the “Margaretta”; in her eyes he was, therefore, a hero.
In Newburyport, Captain and Mrs. O’Brien moved in the best society of the place; his reputation as a prominent character in connection with the Revolution, and his upright, manly bearing, opening to him the avenues of entrance to society. As a full-dressed gentleman of the period, he is said to have made a very fine appearance. One of Captain John O’Brien’s descendants, a grandson, thus speaks of his ancestor: “In the olden times, when my grandfather was in his prime, his ships visited the Indies, and the rich owners lived in stately mansions and made a great display of style in dress and manner. The gentlemen of fashion almost outdid the ladies in the neatness of their attire. I have in my possession some articles of dress worn by my grandfather when he lived in Newbury; they answer to the description given by the historians of the time of the brilliant appearance which a full-dressed gentleman must have made in a social party. A long blue coat, with ample pockets and silver buttons; a white satin vest, of capacious dimensions; velvet breeches reaching to the knees and fastened there by silver buckles; silk stockings and buckled shoes; ruffles in the bosom, and at the wrists, and a richly embroidered scarf around the neck—all this gorgeous array presents a striking contrast to the studied simplicity of a gentleman’s dress in our day. Later in life, my grandfather laid off some of this finery; but he retained his ‘small clothes’ and knee buckles and silk stockings to the last.
During the summer of 1780, Captain John O’Brien and his brother Joseph built in Newburyport a vessel intended for the privateer service. She was named the “Hannibal,” and was to carry twenty-four guns and have a crew of one hundred and thirty men. On her first cruise, to Port au Prince, San Domingo, she was commanded by Captain John O’Brien; he captured several important British prizes.
After the capture of the “Hannibal,” while in command of Captain Jeremiah O’Brien, by the British,[[26]] late in 1780 or early in 1781, Captain John O’Brien and a few others built in Newburyport another vessel for the privateer service, which was named the “Hibernia.” She was a small vessel, but a splendid sailer. The “Hibernia” carried six three-pound guns. Of this vessel Captain John O’Brien took command (Captain Jeremiah O’Brien was then on board the prison ship Jersey, at Wallabout Bay). Captain John O’Brien inflicted great damage upon British shipping with the “Hibernia.” On his first cruise, which lasted less than four weeks, he captured three brigs, a ship and two schooners from the enemy. During this cruise O’Brien met with a sixteen-gun British ship of war, with which he engaged in a fight lasting nearly two hours. From this evidently unequal encounter he escaped with the loss of three killed and several wounded. One of the wounded men on board the “Hibernia” had an arm shattered by a cannon-shot from the enemy. The surgeon on board, instead of proceeding to amputate the arm, stood trembling, afraid to undertake the operation. The wounded man was rapidly bleeding to death. Captain O’Brien drew his pistol, and, pointing it at the surgeon, said: “Do your duty, sir, or I’ll blow your brains out!” The arm was speedily amputated, and the man’s life was thereby saved.
As a result of a subsequent cruise in the “Hibernia,” Captain John O’Brien brought into Newburyport eleven British merchant vessels, all richly laden, out of a fleet of twelve with which he had fallen in off the mouth of the Narrows, below New York.
Captain O’Brien, while cruising in the vicinity of New York, espied a large vessel which he supposed was a British merchantman, and he at once “bore down” upon the craft. Upon ascertaining that the vessel was a British man-of-war, O’Brien immediately crowded on all sail, and, suddenly altering the course of the “Hibernia,” ran from the enemy’s vessel. The British man-of-war pursued the “Hibernia,” and as the former was the faster sailer, she was rapidly gaining on the American privateer. It was then nearly dusk. As soon as darkness settled down upon the water, O’Brien ballasted a hogshead, set firmly in one side of it a pole, at the top of which he placed a large, lighted lantern. Lowering the hogshead into the water, O’Brien ordered an anchor cast; the fog, by this time being so dense that the “Hibernia” could not be discerned by the British man-of-war. The heavy muffled sound of booming cannon was soon heard on board the American privateer. It proved to be the enemy furiously bombarding the floating hogshead, which had been taken by the British commander for the “Hibernia.” At length silence reigned. When morning broke, the British man-of-war was nowhere to be seen; the commanding officer no doubt congratulating himself upon the destruction of O’Brien’s vessel.
“It has been said,” remarks a Machias friend of Captain O’Brien, “and is doubtless in the main true, that the proceeds of the sales of the vessels and cargoes captured by Captain John O’Brien during the Revolution, contributed to the foundation of the fortunes of many of the residents of Newburyport, into which they were brought.” Captain O’Brien, upon delivering the captured prizes at the wharves or out in the harbor, would say: “Here, boys, you take care of these, and I’ll go out for more.” He evidently did not care so much for money as he did for the opportunity of seeing the British flag come down.
“He had a heart as big as an ox,” is the estimate of Captain O’Brien given by those well qualified to judge in the matter.
Of the home of Captain John O’Brien, in Newburyport, a granddaughter says, in some papers left by her at her decease:
“Most of my childhood and youth was spent in the house of my maternal grandfather. I loved my own home, my little flower bed, my dog, my brothers; I reverenced my father almost to idolatry, and doted on my sweet, indulgent mother, but I recollect no such expansion of feeling as I always experienced at my grandfather’s. There was a life and a movement in the family, a freedom just within the bounds of license, and an overflowing joyfulness which suited my buoyant and eager temper. His residence was in a large and pleasant seaport town in Massachusetts; the dwelling, a handsome three-story house, stood on a little eminence, withdrawn from the public road, and commanding from the upper windows a delightful view of the town, the surrounding country, and the distant sea.
“The house, in front, and at the ends appeared square, but on reaching the rear it was perceived that the ends projected perhaps twenty feet beyond the main body, leaving a deep recess which looked a little like the interior court in eastern dwellings. This was a cool and shady spot, the grass growing thick and green under foot, and all around the three enclosed sides of the house, immense bushes of roses, white and red, rich and fragrant enough for Paradise, climbed almost to the chamber windows. Through the centre ran a narrow gravel-walk to a door which opened opposite the large front entrance, and this arrangement gave in summer a delightful draft, and made this little court one of the pleasantest of retreats. A wooden platform, perhaps five feet wide, ran the whole length of the rear, and here, in a sunny day, lay old Bravo, that wondrous dog, who had gone through almost as many adventures as his master, basking in the warm beams. Here, too, in a warm afternoon, sat Uncle Joseph, that pleasantest of granduncles, in his morning gown, with his pipe in his mouth, ready with his joke for every passerby. I have good cause to remember him, for I was his pet and plaything, and was teased and indulged for his amusement more than was good for my temper.”
After the close of the Revolution, Captain O’Brien continued for several years to reside in Newburyport. In command of his own vessels he visited many ports, American and foreign; including Philadelphia, the West Indies, Liverpool, London, France and Spain. During one of his visits in London, he purchased some long silk stockings, such as were worn by gentlemen at the time. On the voyage home he opened the package only to discover that he had paid for a lot of stocking legs, minus feet. Being in London a few months later, he made a second purchase of silk stockings in the same store where the first lot had been purchased. The English merchant did not recognize his customer. The price asked by the merchant was very low for the quality of stockings offered. Taking advantage of the low price asked, Captain O’Brien made a large purchase, and laid the pay, in gold, on the counter. Upon seeing the merchant about to take the stockings purchased, away, ostensibly to wrap them, Captain O’Brien took the purchase from the counter, remarking, as he did so: “Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll take them as they are”; and, to the great disgust of the tricky Englishman, O’Brien at once left the store with his purchase. The London merchant was outwitted by the Yankee customer; for he intended to repeat the dishonesty of the first transaction.
Captain John O’Brien was once challenged by a Frenchman to fight a duel; the Frenchman having for some reason taken offense. The challenge was accepted, and as the challenged party, Captain O’Brien chose as his weapon, a cannon; and in accordance with the rules of duelling, he was to have the first shot. Upon being informed of the weapon chosen by the visiting Yankee, the Frenchman, hitherto so brave, was terrified, and withdrew his challenge.
Having disposed of his cargo in a foreign port into which he had sailed, Captain O’Brien went on board his vessel with the proceeds of the sale, which was in gold. This he had placed in his capacious satin vest pocket. During his absence on shore the crew of his vessel had formed a plot to kill him when he came on board, and take from him, and divide among themselves, the large amount of money they knew he would have about his person. Captain O’Brien had no sooner stepped upon the deck of his vessel than one of the crew, chosen for the work, struck him on the head with a mauling spike. He fell, stunned, upon the deck. After taking from his vest pockets the gold, several of the mutinous crew threw the unconscious officer overboard. As he struck the water (this he subsequently related), he partially recovered consciousness; but down, down, down he went, until his feet touched bottom, when he gave an energetic spring upward, and soon reached the surface. Having fully recovered consciousness, he swam for his vessel, which was but a short distance away. While Captain O’Brien was in the water the crew had attempted to kill his brother, William, the first mate; but he had escaped from his would-be murderers by seeking shelter behind one of the big guns on board. Unseen by the crew, Captain O’Brien reached the deck of his vessel, and immediately seizing a mauling spike, he rushed into the midst of the mutineers, swinging the heavy instrument to the right and left with tremendous vigor. Supposing Captain O’Brien to be an apparition, as they took it for granted he had been drowned, the mutineers became so thoroughly affrighted that they tumbled almost headlong down the hatchway, hastily closing it after them. Captain O’Brien, with the assistance of the first mate, at once securely fastened the hatchway. He then went on shore and notified the civil authorities of the mutiny of the crew, and of their attempt upon his life, and that of his brother, William. The mutineers, twenty-five in number, were arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced to death. Through the intercession of Captain O’Brien, however, the sentence of death was changed to banishment to a desert island. “My grandfather, though so bold, was also tenderhearted,” said one of his descendants, “and could not bear to have so many lives taken, especially as some of the crew had, he believed, been dragged into the mutiny; so he interceded for them with the government, and obtained a commutation of the penalty.”
“One day while in Madrid,” I now quote the words of a descendant, “he (Captain O’Brien) visited a friend at his house; and when leaving, toward evening, to return to the ship (the harbor was several miles from the city), he was presented with a stout cane, an Irish shilelah, with the remark that he might find it useful sometime for self-defense. My grandfather accepted the cane, and, thanking his friend, went out to hire a hack which should take him to the port. He passed along a row of carriages, but no driver was willing to go out of the city at so late an hour, till he reached the very last man of all. When asked whether he would go, he glanced at the sun, now almost down, and intimated that he would. He was a suspicious looking fellow, whom one would not care to meet in a lonely place, but there was no choice. So he mounted the carriage and was driven off. My grandfather was said to have never known fear, and his courage stood him in good stead now. There was a partition between the two men. When they were well out of the city, in the open country, my grandfather observed the driver making a movement as if to get nearer to him. Watching his chance, just as the fellow raised his body, my grandfather planted his feet against the driver and pushed him off the seat on to the ground. Then instantly jumping out, Captain O’Brien stood directly over the prostrate and astonished driver, with his stout cudgel in his hand, and exclaimed: ‘Now, get on that seat, and drive me as I tell you, or I’ll knock your brains out!’ The wretch taken by surprise, and perceiving that he had fallen into formidable hands, dared not disobey. As the driver sprang to his seat, my grandfather instantly followed him, holding over him his shilelah, ready to execute his threat. When they reached the port, the sun was set. My grandfather jumped off the carriage, threw some money upon the ground and went aboard his ship.
“Some years after, he chanced to meet his friend, who expressed great surprise at seeing him. ‘What, are you alive, Captain! When I learned that you had left the city with that villain of a driver, I never expected to see you again. It is notorious that he has killed many persons under similar circumstances.’
“‘Thanks for your shilelah,’ said my grandfather, ‘which through a kind Providence saved me from death. I shall always cherish it as a memento of my friend, and for the good service it did me.’”
In the year 1820, Captain John O’Brien removed to Brunswick, Maine, where he had purchased about twenty acres of land. Upon a portion of this land he built a house, said to have been the finest in the place. Here, Captain O’Brien resolved to spend the remainder of his days in well-earned rest from a long, arduous and highly eventful public career.[[27]]
Another grandson of Captain O’Brien thus speaks of the latter’s home in Brunswick: “Without the slightest exaggeration I can say, that my grandfather’s place was a ‘glowing rose-garden of rapture,’ a paradise; and when its pearly gates now and then opened to let me in for a few days’ visit, I was perfectly happy. When the time came to leave, though I had a good home to go to, it was, I imagine, with some such feelings as Adam had when he turned his back upon Eden, only that I had this advantage over my unhappy progenitor, that I was not forbidden to return some happy day. What a halo about that spot, to my youthful imagination! There was no place like it in the world; how pleasant it lies in my memory, with a brightness that has never faded.”
During his residence in Brunswick, Captain O’Brien used occasionally to visit Machias, where his parents, and two brothers, Colonel Jeremiah, and Gideon, resided. On one of the visits to Machias a daughter accompanied him. As they were passing through a piece of dense, dark woods, many miles from a human habitation, a man climbed into the rear of the vehicle, for the purpose, evidently, of robbing Captain O’Brien. Doubtless the would-be robber thought an aged man, such as his prospective victim seemed to be, would be an easy case to deal with; but, as he soon ascertained, appearances are often deceiving. Placing the reins in the hands of his daughter, and instructing her to drive the horse at a rapid speed, he stood up in the vehicle, and, reaching round to the rear, he laid the whip on to the intruder with such great vigor that he jumped to the ground, and was soon left far behind.
While a resident of Brunswick, Captain O’Brien, through the intercession of Mr. Joseph Wheaton, a former Machias acquaintance, who then held a position under the Government, at Washington, was appointed postmaster.
Mr. Wheaton, who it should be said, took part in the capture of the “Margaretta,” thus writes Captain O’Brien, from Washington, with regard to his appointment, as postmaster, at Brunswick; the letter was written in 1823:
“I represented to him (Mr. Harris, of the House of Representatives) your ardent zeal for the country in your youth, your manly conduct in the affair you touched upon, relating to the Margaretta schooner and called to his recollection that in that action we became pirates, traitors and rebels, according to the laws of England at that time; that our success (established) the necessity of manly resistance everywhere or the consequences would have been more distressing than death—it would have been universal slavery to all the people; that Captain Moore was the first naval officer that fell in the Revolution; that your services had been uniform and of the highest manly character, and that you were now advanced in years and it would be most grateful to your feelings to receive some token that you were not refused a small favor.”[[28]]
HON. JAMES M. GRAHAM.
Of Springfield, Ill.
Member of Congress from his state and an earnest member of the Society.
A grandson of the subject of this sketch thus describes the character of his grandfather: “... my maternal grandfather developed a character in which energy and decision were prominent qualities. It was said of him later in life, that he never knew what fear was; but though possessed of a strong will and prompt to exact obedience when in command, he had a calm and reasonable temper and a gentlemanly bearing which gained for him the respect and confidence of the community. He was not a man to trifle with, neither was he a man to stand in dread of. He was just and honorable in his treatment of others, and gentle to the young and helpless.”
A most touching story is related concerning the burial of Mrs. John O’Brien, with whom the captain had lived happily for nearly fifty years. On the day of the funeral, held at his home, he was seen standing at the foot of the flight of stairs, leading from their bedroom down into the front hallway, as if he was waiting for some one to come down. For several years it had been his custom, on Sunday morning, to thus stand, and wait for Mrs. O’Brien to come down, to accompany him to the house of worship in the village. For a moment, on the occasion above referred to, he seemed to have forgotten that his wife was to be buried, and he was watching for her to come down stairs to go with him, as usual, to the village church. When he awoke to the fact that his beloved wife was that day to be buried, he was well nigh overcome with grief. This was in 1826.
About six years later, on the 8th of May, 1832, Captain John O’Brien died. He was then 82 years of age. He was buried in Brunswick, where his remains now rest.
All honor to his memory!
The writer of this sketch wishes hereby to gratefully acknowledge his indebtedness to Heman W. Chaplin, Esq., of Boston, for no inconsiderable portion of the materials drawn from in its preparation.