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 existence, was not of the most pleasing nature; however, death was much more preferable than a continuation of my persecutions, and I sometimes wished to he at rest. In an hour I was in the centre of the fort of Bitche – stared at on all sides by my unfortunate countrymen, who happened to be out of their souterrains at this moment to respire. Several I could hear arguing whether I was a British subject. ‘He must have been,’ said they, ‘at the head of some banditti – perhaps he is the officer who commanded the soldiers he is chained to – It is impossible that any prisoner of war could be loaded in such a manner with fetters!’ Others, who recognized me, shook their heads, and dared not approach near enough to ask a question: but I could perceive they imagined I had committed some atrocious offence. Indeed it struck me, that they thought I had killed somebody, which I afterwards found was the general opinion.

“It was not many seconds before my old friends and companions, Messrs. Ashworth and Tuthill, found means to get to me. I never was more thunderstruck in my life, as I supposed they were, by that time, on their passage to, or had safely arrived in, England. Mr. Baker, of the merchant service, and all the others, except Lieutenant Essel, who had been lately dashed to pieces in endeavouring to go over the walls, likewise came to see me. Messrs. Ashworth and Tuthill had been arrested, about two hours after they parted from me in the wood. It had been so suddenly surrounded by soldiers, peasantry, &c. that it was impossible to escape from it. They could not account for my getting clear. The others, whom we had left with the waggon, never attempted to escape.

“I shall not attempt to describe the fortress of Bitche; to give a minute detail of its strength, souterrains, &c. would fill a volume; therefore I shall only observe, that it is reckoned the strongest fortification in France, built on the summit of an immense rock, out of which all its subterraneous caves are hollowed. It has three ramparts; the first, from 90 to 100 feet high; the second, from 40 to 50; and the third, from 25 to 30; with redoubts, entrenchments, &c. innumerable. It appeared, at that moment, a moral impossibility to escape from it; and I was filled with despair on beholding its works. Being now arrived at the wretched dungeon I was to inhabit, my handcuffs and chains were taken off; and the Corsican deserters were conducted to the condemned cells; they were, I believe, soon afterwards shot. I found a Mr. Worth, midshipman, and a Captain Brine, of the merchant service, here. The latter was one of those who came from Verdun with me. They were on a door, which they had managed to unhinge, and which lay as a platform to keep them out of excrement and wet, which was more than ancle deep. They informed me they had been companions of the unfortunate Essel, in the late attempt to get over the ramparts; six in number had broken out of their cave – had got a rope made of sheets, and were on the point of lowering themselves down, when they were discovered, and the alarm given; which made them all clap on the rope together, that was only strong enough