This day the lieutenant of the gendarmerie of the Strasbourg district, with another officer, came to interrogate me with respect to my escape, the direction I had taken, and all the other circumstances of my flight. I was frank and communicative, and they both were very much astonished at the sufferings I had endured, and expressed their wonder at my having been able to cross the bridge of Kehl without detection. They informed me, to my grief, that Bitche was the place of my destination; and that at daylight the next morning I should be escorted to that fortress, in company with eleven Corsican soldiers who had lately deserted from their regiment at Deuxponts, carrying with them their arms, accoutrements, and knapsacks. These unfortunate fellows, they added, were all to be shot. I must confess that I by no means liked to travel in such company; but my informants assured me, that although they were sensible of the indignity, and sorry for it, it was out of their power to prevent it, and that I must submit with patience to my fate. I had only to express my resignation with the best grace I could assume.
The gaoler, being well aware of what sort of dungeons I should be placed in during my journey to Bitche, told me he had received only nine livres—about seven shillings and sixpence sterling,—which was all that had been handed over to the gendarmes as my property by the Bavarians; and as my funds were so very low he would demand only two shillings and sixpence for everything I had received at his table; and he gave the remainder of my money to my guard, to advance as I might have occasion for it. I felt grateful for this man’s generosity and disinterestedness. His was, indeed, the most reasonable bill I ever had paid in France, and I requested he would take more, as I was certain it must be in consequence of my reduced finances that his demands were so moderate; however, he resolutely refused, so I took my leave of him and his wife,[23] and got into my place, which was by the eleventh Corsican’s side, to whom I was chained and handcuffed, whilst another chain was also passed through the whole of the party, which completely linked us all together. About noon our guards were changed. The brigade that now escorted us consisted of the most cruel scoundrels I ever beheld. They placed the chain round my neck, under my handkerchief; and on my observing to them that it must certainly be their design to strangle me by putting the chain on so tight, they took in another link, d——d me for a rascally Englishman, and clapped on an immense padlock, which was dangling as an ornament under my chin the whole way; they afterwards screwed on my handcuffs until the skin was literally twisted off the wrists. They knew my name perfectly, and that I had lately escaped from my guards.
At night we arrived at Hagenau gaol, and the next morning at daylight went on our way. We were placed in the same order, with this exception—the chain was passed over the shoulder and under the arm, like a soldier’s belt, instead of round the neck. At about five in the afternoon we arrived at an open town, Niederbronn. The cold was very intense—snowing hard all day. For our comfort, we were put into one of the most filthy dungeons that ever mortal beheld, with scarcely room to turn round, and only a small hole in the door to admit air. The Corsicans appeared to feel a great deal for my situation; and observed, “that they ought not to complain, when a British officer was used in so horrid a manner.” They were permitted to go out of the dungeon to get some refreshments, which the charitable inhabitants sent them; but the sacré Anglais was not suffered to move; and I had great difficulty to procure a morsel of food, which was handed me through the air-hole, and for which they charged double price. This air-hole was so small, and there was such an abominable smell, that I never expected to survive it. Two of these unfortunate wretches were seized with an illness, a sort of cholera, which continued the whole night, and added greatly to the mauvaise odeur we already had. I never passed a more dreadful night. At last the cheering moment arrived, which was announced by the usual sounds—rattling of keys, creaking of doors, bolts, etc. A gendarme presented himself, and, with a gruff, overbearing voice, desired us to prepare for our march. He had very little difficulty in getting this summons obeyed; but he told us we must first of all clean out our cell! “Where is the Englishman?” roared the brute; “let him do that part by himself!” I was full of disgust and indignation; and advancing boldly towards him, I resolutely told him that I would not. The fellow was getting into a furious rage, and I doubted not but that the consequences would have been serious to me, when, fortunately, the soldiers interfered, and said that as they had caused the evil, it was but just that they should clear out the cell. This done, we proceeded on our journey, in the manner of the preceding day.
The two sick soldiers, though the poor wretches looked extremely ill, were not exempted from their chains and fetters, although the weather was excessively inclement, and the heavy snow was drifted in our faces by a fierce and hard wind. They were evidently in a high state of fever, and wherever they saw a frozen rivulet they entreated that they might be allowed to halt, to procure either ice or water; but the flinty-hearted brutes were deaf to all supplication, and the wretched sufferers were obliged to eat handfuls of snow in order to allay their raging thirst. The cruel, savage behaviour of these guards exceeded everything I had witnessed; and yet I had seen and experienced enough to make nature shudder. They also accused the poor wretches of being traitors to their countryman, Napoleon.
At about noon, on the 21st of December 1807, the high turrets and massive towers of the gloomy fortress in which I was going to be incarcerated presented themselves to my sight. Their very appearance was sufficient to strike the mind with horror; and I cannot but believe that the engineer had this object in view when he gave such outward forms to his structure. The prospect of being shut up in that detestable fortress, perhaps for the remainder of my days, could only be relieved by the probability that my length of life would be shortened by the nature of my imprisonment. Death itself was preferable to protracted persecution, and I sometimes devoutly wished to be at rest. In this train of thought and feeling I proceeded; and so absorbed was I by my affliction, that I was almost unconscious of any objects or circumstances around me, until I was roughly awakened from my stupor and found myself in the centre of the fortress of Bitche.
CHAPTER XII
Conjectures of the prisoners as to my country and crimes—Inferences from my chains that I had committed murder—Mr. Ashworth and Mr. Tuthill, with Mr. Baker, rejoin me—Lieutenant Essel dashed to pieces in attempting to descend the ramparts of Bitche—My grief at his death—The immense height of the ramparts—My horrible dungeon—Its revolting state of filth—Interview with the commandant—An application to be allowed to take the air granted for two hours a day—Meditations upon an escape—Our efforts baffled—A Christmas night in a dungeon—Reminiscences of home and friends—A sentinel firing on his prisoners—I am removed to a cell with fifty prisoners—Again removed to a higher cell with only twelve—Improved condition—Hear of a scheme of the prisoners below to effect their escape—Contrive to join them—Stratagem to drown the noise of working-tools—Successful undermining—Noise in opening the third door—Sentinels alarmed—The guards enter—Search, and discover our engineering—Fury of the French officers—Mr. Brine, answering to the name of O’Brien, is captured instead of me—I escape from the dungeon and regain my own cell—Feign illness, and avoid suspicion.
As soon as I could collect my scattered senses and compose my distracted mind, I found that I was stared at from all sides by my unhappy countrymen, who at that moment happened to be out of their souterrains, on their permission to take those few gasps of fresh air that were essential to their being able to exist for the rest of the day in their noxious dungeons. I could hear some of these poor fellows questioning whether I was a British subject. “He must have been at the head of some banditti!” said one. “He looks like it,” observed another. “Perhaps,” remarked a third, “he is the captain of the soldiers he is chained to.” “Very likely,” rejoined another. “At all events,” said a fifth, “whether he is an Englishmen or a foreigner, it is clear he is not a prisoner of war, for they never would load a prisoner of war of any nation so heavily with chains.” In this opinion, and in this alone, did they all agree; and I was set down by universal consent as some daring criminal that had committed one, or even a host of atrocious crimes. At length some of my old friends saw and recognised me. “Good heavens!” exclaimed one, “it is our old friend O’Brien.” “But why such chains, and with such a gang?” was the reply. None dared approach to ask a question; and, as I afterwards found, the general inference was, that, in my attempt to escape, I had killed some officer or soldier who had opposed me, and that I was led here thus secured preparatory to my trial and execution for murder.
But it was not many minutes before my old friends and companions, Ashworth and Tuthill, found means to get at me.
I was never more thunderstruck in my life, for I had flattered myself that they had effected their escape, and had been happy in the thought, which had worked itself into my mind as a fact, that they had arrived safely in England. Mr. Baker, of the merchant service, and in a short time all my old companions, surrounded me, except poor Lieutenant Essel; and on my anxiously inquiring for him, to my great grief was I informed that he had been dashed to pieces in endeavouring to get over the walls, in a fresh attempt to escape. Mr. Ashworth and Tuthill told me that they had been arrested or recaptured about two hours after they had parted from me in the wood. It had, in fact, been so suddenly surrounded by soldiers and peasantry that it was impossible to escape from it. They added that they never had been able to account for my getting clear. The other prisoners had not taken advantage of the diversion we had made in their favour, but had remained in the waggon.