Okehampton
Here, very little information is obtainable, as very few of the ‘oldest inhabitant’ type are to be found, and there are very few residents whose parents have lived there for any length of time—a sign of these restless, migrating days which makes one regret that the subject of the foreign prisoners of war in Britain was not taken up before the movement of the rural world into large towns had fairly set in. One old resident could only say that his father used to talk of from five to six hundred prisoners being at Okehampton, but in the rural mind numbers are handled as vaguely as is time, for assuredly in no single parole town in Britain were there ever so many prisoners. Another aged resident said:
‘They were all bettermost prisoners: the rough ones were kept at Princetown, but these were quartered in various houses, and paid very well for it. Their bounds were a mile out of town, but I have heard they were very artful, and shifted the milestones and borough stones. My father told me that one escaped, but he was shot down in the neighbourhood of the Bovey Clay Works. There was a riot in the town one day amongst them, and old Dr. Luxmoore, who was a big, tall man, mounted his big horse, and, armed with his hunting whip, rode down through the prisoners, who were fighting in the town, and with the cracks of it dispersed them in every direction.... The Mess Room was the St. James’ Street schoolroom, and stood opposite the South entrance of the Arcade which was pulled down a few years ago. In their spare time the prisoners made many small articles such as cabinets, chairs, cribbage-boards, and various models of churches and houses. Some taught their languages to the inhabitants.’