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 from the N.W., occasioned such a sea, as to bury us frequently in its abyss.

“At 2, the sea breaking in a most dreadful manner over us, and expecting every second to be dashed on the rocks a-stern, we hauled in briskly on the grapnel-rope, hoisted the fore-sail and wore round, paying out the rope just hauled in, until we brought it right over the quarter, which enabled us to get our grapnel on board with case; while we stood over to the Carmaret bay side, in the hope of falling in with some little haven to shelter us, or with one of the other boats; but we were disappointed in each expectation.

“At about 4-30, finding we advanced towards Brest harbour considerably, we resolved to try the grapnel once more; although we were not in the smallest degree sheltered from the inclemency of the weather, and were placed immediately under a fort, which we distinguished by lights, that enabled us to see the sentinels on their posts walking to and fro. We made, if possible, worse weather here, than at our former anchorage, with the exception that the grapnel held. At 7-30, the wind and weather became more inclement than on the preceding night. Not a boat in sight, every minute expecting to be hailed by the fort, and not a soul amongst us that could speak a word of French, almost perished and starved from the fatigue and sufferings of the night, the few provisions we had being totally destroyed by the salt water. Seeing no alternative, but the pain and mortification of delivering myself and boat’s crew prisoners of war, I came at length to that resolution, ordered all the small arms to be thrown overboard, cut the grapnel-rope, and ran into Brest harbour.”

Imagining that the boat’s crew and himself might be better treated on board the commander-in-chiefs ship, than in a private one, Mr. O’Brien went alongside l’Alexandre, bearing his flag, where he was received with the utmost civility, and every attention paid to his wants. The French officers informed him, that eleven of the other boats had arrived in the night; the thirteenth fishing boat, commanded by Mr. Gordon, midshipman, effected a landing at Conquet, about 12 miles west of Brest.

“On the 11th,” says Captain O’Brien, “we were all sent on shore to the hospital, each of us being more or less indisposed. The officers who conducted us, insisted upon my wearing my sword all the way, which the French captain had refused to receive on board, observing that I had been unfortunately wrecked, and not taken in fight, and consequently had no right to lose it; and he further remarked, that in his opinion, we ought to be returned to our native country, and should not be considered as prisoners; but, he added, that the jailor on shore would deprive me of my sword, which was afterwards the case. On the 18th, we received information, that we should commence our march towards our dépôt the following day, and were ordered to