Napoleonic PoW escapees - Donat Henchy O'Brien

A uniform used by a local sailor to trick his way out of prison during the Napoleonic Wars, which is on display at the National Maritime Museum, received extensive coverage last week. Charles Hare's story reminded me of another Napoleonic escape I touched upon in my book The Frontier Sea, which I meant to return to. 

Donat Henchy O'Brien served on HMS Amphion with Sir William Hoste, and he was mentioned in Hoste's biography when he was picked up off Trieste. This led me to read the background in O'Brien's 1839 memoir, republished in 1902 by Sir Charles Oman. Only the later part of his career was relevant to my book. Still, the earlier story is, if anything, more remarkable than Hare's escape. As Oman says, 'I imagine that no prisoner ever made three such desperate dashes for liberty as did this enterprising Irish midshipman.'

Donat O’Brien entered the Royal Navy on 16th December 1796, when only eleven, even younger than the average midshipman. He was serving on HMS Hussar when that ship ran aground on the French coast, and he was captured in February 1804. He was initially held at Verdun, and his future prospects looked bleak because Napoleon had decided to end the age-old practice of exchanging prisoners. He and a few fellow officers decided to revoke their parole and planned an escape, collecting the necessary provisions and equipment for a dash across France, mainly at night, to a channel port.

They each collected a short piece of rope, bound them together, and scaled down the fortress walls. They had money and decent French but no papers, so night marched their way to Arras and the Etaples and, when challenged by locals, claimed they were conscripts joining the army. Two of his colleagues were spotted by customs officers (the uniform Hare used), and they claimed to be American sailors trying to get home. This ruse failed when an American interviewed them with the Mayor, who identified them as British. 

They were sent back to Verdun under escort but managed to escape. At times, he got some assistance from locals, but it was mostly an arduous trek on rough paths, sleeping in woods at night during a cold winter. This time, he got as far as Strasbourg before his identity was discovered, with his description having been circulated on a list of escapees. 

He was put in irons and sent to the fortress of Bitche, which is largely intact today. As you can see, this was the Colditz of its day. Escapees were confined to subterranean cells. This was January 1808.

By August 1808, they had yet again put together an escape plan that involved scaling down the walls in stages. They made their way east, again mainly by night, occasionally risking stays at inns and farmhouses. They got to Baden and then Bavaria, which was a French-allied territory. 

They crossed the border into Austria and were stopped by Austrian soldiers. “Will you surrender?” said he; and what option of an answer was left to us in any case, when each had a rifle presented to his head? “Most willingly,” I replied, “but are we not in the Emperor’s dominions in Kaisersland?” How my heart beat with joy when he answered the “Yes, Sir,”—Ya Mynheer. Never did the sun behold more willing prisoners.

They maintained their identity as American sailors until the local governor explained that he would not return them to Bavaria and helped them travel to Trieste. The former British consul there helped them get a boat, which they rowed out towards the blockading Royal Navy frigate. This was HMS Amphion, which O'Brien had previously served on, and two officers recognised him. When they reached Malta, they found five more of their fellow escapees. Admiral Collingwood appointed him as a lieutenant on HMS Warrior, and he took part in the capture of several Ionian islands. He was later transferred to Amphion and fought at the Battle of Lissa in 1811. O’Brien reached the rank of rear-admiral on 8th March 1852 and died on 13th May 1857, aged 73.

The details in his memoirs are remarkable, and Oman only slightly edited them. As I said in my book, his story pales even the fictional Hornblower story. I first read the original in the British Library, but there is now a Kindle version for only £1.99. This is absolutely outstanding value for a great story worthy of a film.