Ingenious Escape from Old Mill Prison

During the Revolutionary War there were two prisons in England that confined captured enemy sailors. One was Forton Prison in Portsmouth and the other was Old Mill Prison in Plymouth.

Old Mill Prison

At the end of Part I of A Matter of Honor, protagonist Richard Cutler is taken prisoner after a raid on the English seaport of Whitehaven led by Capt. John Paul Jones (the subject of an earlier blog). Richard and several other Americans are carted off to Old Mill Prison, to presumably wait out the war before being tried and hanged as traitors or pirates. (American sailors who fell into British hands were not treated as prisoners of war until after the Battle of Yorktown.) Old Mill was a massive structure with both an inner and outer wall. Within the inner wall were Long Prison, where Americans were held, and another prison across the compound to house French captives.

Old Mill is described in part as follows:

The prison was more massive than he (Richard Cutler) had first imagined. Within the huge rectangular stone structure was another, smaller rectangle of identical construction and proportions, except that at its entrance was a wide-open wooden gate. Between the double walls was a grassy area encircling the entire inner yard. This yard was perhaps twenty feet in width to the east and west, thirty or thirty-five feet to the north and south. Near where Richard stood, between the two north walls, were two substantial stone buildings. One, Richard assumed by the guards posted at the entryway, was most likely the prison offices. The other looked to be a military barracks. Idling about in both the outer and inner yards was a large number of scruffy-looking men walking solo or in small groups.

Among those “scruffy-looking men” Richard would come to know in Old Mill are such future naval heroes (and future characters in the Cutler Family Chronicles) as Silas Talbot, Richard Dale, and Joshua Barney. Although these men and their compatriots had attempted many escapes, few had been successful. Outside the prison walls were legions of local citizens known as “Janners” who were awarded ₤5—a year’s salary for a farm hand—for every escaped prisoner they turned in to the Home Guard. A number of tunnels had been dug and an equal number had been unearthed by snooping prison guards and local militia.

The captured American officers are mulling over their wretched state of affairs one evening after a dinner of land-snail stew. Another tunnel was under construction, this one heading north rather than to the east, which afforded the shortest way out and was the direction to which every tunnel to date had been attempted. The logic of digging to the north was that prison officials would not expect a tunnel to be dug underneath where they worked all day. Thus they would not think to look for one there.

During the meeting Richard Cutler has a sudden notion. In alow but excited voice he tells his fellow inmates that the tunnel has already reached its destination even though it reaches barely beyond the inner wall. His fellow officers stare at him in bewilderment.

What happens next is perhaps best conveyed in dialogue:

“This is nonsense!” Joshua Barney scoffed. “Richard, have you taken leave of your senses? What are you suggesting? That we dig just to the Outer Yard? Hell, boy, we can walk out there any time we want, the gate’s wide open ‘till nightfall. What about the outer wall? We can’t just walk out through the main gate, pretty as we please.” 

Joshua Barney

Richard grinned at him. “Yes we can, Joshua. Yes we can. Hear me out. Silas, how often do they rotate the guards out of here?” 

“Every three months, from what we’ve observed.” 

“Exactly. And how often do they rotate the officers?” 

“Every six months.” 

“Right. So when is the next time officers and guards are rotated out together? Most of them anyway.” 

Talbot gave that some thought. It was Russell who answered. 

“The first of October, three weeks from now. 

Silas Talbot

Richard nodded. “That’s how I figure it.” His right hand was working in quick chopping motions.  

“So on October second, we’ll have a new batch of officers in our midst, plus a fresh rotation of militia guards, most of whom, we can fairly presume, will be strangers to each other. On that one day, an officer could walk in or out of this prison, pretty as you please, as you put it, Joshua, based on one credential: his uniform. Do you agree?” 

The officers stared at Richard, digesting his train of thought. 

“I think we can agree with that, Richard,” Talbot said, scratching his head. “But where are you leading us?” 

Agreen (Crabtree, a fellow midshipman and Richard’s close friend throughout the series) slapped his knee hard. 

“I know where he’s leadin’ us, Silas! Jesus Christ, it’s so obvious we should all have thought of it, long ago. He’s leadin’ us into the Prison Office, the building right between the two gates where they keep the officers’ uniforms. Our tunnel’s headin’ straight for it. Come up through the floor at night, don those uniforms, hide out ‘til dawn, then walk out early before the real officers are awake. Bugger, but I’ll look good in a lieutenant’s uniform!” 

He beamed at Richard. Richard beamed back. 

Talbot held up a hand in caution.  

“Steady on, lads. Steady on. Let’s consider this.”  

Searching for the weak links, Talbot and the other officers ran their minds down the chain of sequential steps that under Richard’s plan would take them from Long Prison under the inner wall, up into the Prison Office, and out through the main gate. They could identify none until Eleazar Johnston asked: “How many uniforms do we reckon are in there?”  

“I don’t know,” Richard confessed. “But there have to be quite a number. Every British officer is issued at least two uniforms in case one gets soiled.” 

“If we’re caught wearin’ those uniforms,” Barney pointed out, “sure as hell we’ll be hanged as spies.” 

Richard acknowledged that.  

“Perhaps, Joshua. But it’s a risk worth taking, don’t you think? Once we’re outside, we can get rid of the red dress coat. The rest of the uniform’s pretty much the same as standard Continental Navy issue.”
Barney pursed his lips reflectively.  

Capt. Richard Dale

“You’re overlooking something,” Richard Dale observed. “I grant you the sentries guarding the gate may be new, but so many officers leaving the compound so early in the morning would certainly arouse suspicion. They’d want to confirm everything with Cowdry (the prison warden) before opening the gate. Don’t forget, their ass would be on the line.” 

Discouraged agreement rumbled among the Americans. The weak link in the chain had apparently been identified. 

Crabtree snapped his fingers. 

“No, wait,” he exclaimed, rising to his feet. “We’ve been thinkin’ about this wrong. We don’t all need t’ be officers. Most of us can be what we are: prisoners. We only need a couple of us in uniform. We go in the buildin’ at night, through the tunnel, just as Richard said. When we come out the next mornin’, the prisoners are bound up, bein’ led out by the officers. For further interrogation on Yarmouth we tell the guards at the gate. On orders from Admiral Digby himself, we say. What sentry, first day at his new post, facin’ the prison brass, would challenge that?” 

 “He’s right,” Russell concurred, and everyone’s mood brightened considerably.

As a footnote to history, the plan as depicted above worked. The American officers made good their escape and made their way back to sea. Most of them went on to fight the British until the end of the war.

Photo Credits: The Old Mill Prison From a 19th-century illustration [public domain]; Sketch of en:Joshua Barney circa 1800 [public domain]; Engraved portrait of Silas Talbot, the second captain of the :USS Constitution [public domain]; Captain Richard Dale, USN [public domain].