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and pleasant seaport town in Massachusetts; the dwelling, a handsome three-story house, stood on a little eminence, withdrawn from the public road, and commanding from the upper windows a delightful view of the town, the surrounding country, and the distant sea.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]]