Rumors, and then certain assurance, soon came to Paris that a wholesale escape of American prisoners had taken place from Mill prison, and on November 23d Franklin was rejoiced to receive the following letter, dated November 18th, at Amsterdam:
“Sir: I have the pleasure to inform you that on the 3d inst., I, with about fifty of our unfortunate countrymen, broke out of Mill prison. I brought three officers with me. I came by the way of London, it being the safest. At London we met with our good friend Mr. Digges, who did everything in his power to serve one and all his countrymen that chance to fall in his way. Happy we to have such a man among the set of tyrants they have in that country! The treatment I have received is unparalleled. Iron, dungeons, hunger, the hangman’s cart, I have experienced. I shall set off from here the 19th for Dunkirk. There I shall be glad to hear from you. I shall always be ready to serve my country, and happy should I be to be able to come alongside some of those petty tyrants. I find something of the effects of my confinement. In a short time will be able to retaliate. I should at this time go out with Captain Jones or in the squadron, could I have heard from you. I should be glad to go for the Continent if a good opportunity served. In this I shall take your advice, and act accordingly.
“The cash Mr. Digges supplied me with, and some necessaries I got at Plymouth. The friend we have at Plymouth is obliged to act with the greatest caution. Mr. Redmond Conyngham, in Ireland, has ordered me some little supply through the hands of David Hartley, of London—a mortal enemy of America, by all accounts.
“From your most obedient and very humble servant,
“G. Conyngham.”
One more letter—Franklin’s answer to this one just quoted—and we have done with the correspondence.
“Passy, Nov. 22, 1779.
“Sir: It gave me great pleasure to hear of your escape out of prison, which I first learned from six of the men who broke out with you and came to France in a boat. I was then anxious lest you should be retaken, and I am very glad indeed to hear of your safe arrival at Amsterdam. I think it will be best for you to stay awhile at Dunkirk till we see what becomes of the little squadron from Holland, for which it is said the English are lying in wait with superior force. The Congress resented exceedingly the inhuman treatment you met with, and it ordered three English officers to be confined in the same manner, to abide your fate.
“There are some Frenchmen returned to Dunkirk who were put by you into one of your first prizes, which was afterward carried into England. I wish you would adjust their claims of wages, prize-money, etc., and put them in a way of getting what may be due to them.
“I write to Mr. Coffyn by this post, to supply you with necessaries. You will be as frugal as possible, money being scarce with me, and the calls upon me abundant.
“With great esteem, I have the honor, etc.,
“B. Franklin.”
Now let us return to Conyngham and follow him through the excitement of the escape that he refers to so casually.
The English officers in charge of the prison not only visited revenge upon Conyngham’s head for the clever ruse that had almost been successful, but they made most of the other American prisoners suffer also. Below ground, under the center of the western wing of Mill prison, were the “Black Holes,” or dungeons, and in the largest one of these Conyngham, with three officers of American privateers and fifty men—captured seamen—were confined. Four times a day and twice during the night was the damp and dismal apartment inspected, and yet no sooner had they all been placed inside and the heavy door locked behind them than Conyngham proposed that a meeting should be held and that they should appoint a leader who was to rule and govern them. At once the proposition was made to him, that as senior officer he should at once take the responsibility himself. At first modestly he refused, but the rest of the prisoners would hear of nothing but his acceptance, and so, wisely, the first thing he did was to appoint a committee that examined into each man’s pedigree and position in order to be assured that there were no spies among them. No suspicious persons were developed by the inquiry, and that very evening Conyngham detailed the plans for the attempted escape. Upon searching the apartment the first thing he discovered was a loose flat stone in the flooring. Upon being removed the ground was found to be soft and sandy underneath—so much so that it could be almost scooped out with the hand. Digging began that very night under Conyngham’s direction, a watchful person being placed at the door to listen to the approaching footsteps of the patrol.
Conyngham had well gauged the distance and direction that the tunnel should take to bring him out at the edge of the common outside of the prison walls. The earth as it was dug up was concealed under the mattresses, and from thence transferred to the pockets of the prisoners, who carried it out handful by handful when they were in the corridor, the privileges of the jail-yard being now denied them. During the day and when the men were not working, for they had arranged the labor and divided the time into watches of half an hour each, the stone that concealed the opening was itself hidden by one of the straw pallets.
The guards continued to be unsuspicious, and one night, late in October, the two men who were at work in the farthest end of the tunnel came quickly back announcing that they were so close to the surface that the earth was beginning to break and crumble. It was very fortunate that they had found beneath the first layer of soft sand a stratum of hard clay mixed with gravel, which required no prop or support to prevent its caving. Work now for a time was suspended, Conyngham concluding to wait for the moonlight nights, and yet to choose one when the light would not be too brilliant. The hour settled upon was when the shadow of the prison would lie heavy upon the spot where the breaking out would take place.