The other attempt in 1807 occurred on 25th September, when 500 of the prisoners, between ten and eleven at night, rushed simultaneously against the interior paling of the prison and levelled one angle of it to the ground. From forty to fifty were severely wounded by the bayonet before they were driven back; happily firearms were not used. It was after this incident, showing the feebleness of the interior paling, that the brick wall was erected in place of the outer wooden fence.
A letter written in 1798, by the agent, Mr. Perrot, to the Transport Officer, Captain Woodriff, illustrates some of the difficulties encountered in this large and understaffed prison by the agent and others holding responsible posts. A rumour having reached Mr. Perrot’s ears that on a certain day an attempt was to be made by seven prisoners to escape from the south-eastern quadrangle, he had the usual count made that night, and special counts twice on the following day, but the irregularities in the response to the roll-call rendered it futile for detecting any deficiency in the numbers. To overcome the difficulty, Mr. Perrot at 5 a.m. took all his clerks, a turnkey, and a file of soldiers into that quadrangle, and had a separate muster of those confined within the separate court of each of the four caserns; he thus discovered six prisoners had escaped from the officers’ prison. How they escaped was not discovered. In one fence a pale had been removed, and probably bribery had overcome the other obstacles. Any soldier or other person about the prison who could be convicted of receiving a bribe or even treating with a prisoner on the subject of an escape was severely punished, soldiers having received 500 lashes for the offence.
How necessary it was for the agent and the garrison to be at all hours prepared for such attempts is shown by the fact that in December 1808, when there were 6,000 prisoners at the Depot, a search brought to light no fewer than 700 daggers of various forms and workmanship. These had been introduced from outside, as they were evidently not of prison manufacture.
On 26th October 1805, seven prisoners, taking advantage of the dark and stormy night, escaped by cutting a large hole in their wooden prison. After escaping through this opening, the prisoners would still have to encounter the stockade fence of the quadrangle, the cordon of sentries without it, the outer prison wall (at that time also a wooden fence), the ditch, and another cordon of sentries beyond them. It must almost of necessity be assumed that these obstacles were overcome by the assistance of others, individual sentries had probably been bribed to connive at the escape, and the prisoners might have had a friend outside to assist them, possibly a tender-hearted Huntingdonshire damsel, whom they had met in the market and with whom they were on terms, which enabled them to speak on more serious questions than the sale and purchase of her wares.
About 8 o’clock on the Sunday night a sergeant and corporal of the Durham Division, out on leave from the Depot, encountered the escaped prisoners near Stamford, recaptured two, marched to the inn and placed them in security. The prisoners were found to be a French naval captain and a midshipman. These officers would normally have been on parole; they were probably in prison for having broken their parole, which was a crime punished severely. Two more were captured near the neighbouring village of Ryhal, having been concealed in Uffington thicket for twenty-four hours without food.
The following narrative of an escape from Pembroke Prison illustrates the application of the maxim, “Cherchez la femme,” to these cases of escape:
“Five hundred prisoners [156] were confined in a building on Golden Hill, near Pembroke, and, as was the custom, they were allowed to eke out the very meagre allowance voted for their subsistence by the sale of toys, which they carved out of wood and bone. Two Pembroke lasses were employed in bringing the odds and ends requisite for this work, and in carrying away refuse from the prison. These girls not having the law of nations or the high policy of Europe before their eyes, dared to fall in love with two of the Frenchmen, and formed a desperate resolve not only to rescue their lovers, but the whole of the prisoners in the same ward, 100 in number. It was impossible to smuggle any tools into the prison, but a shin of horse beef seemed harmless even in the eyes of a Pembroke Cerberus. With the bone extracted from this delicacy the Frenchmen undermined the walls, the faithful girls carrying off the soil in their refuse buckets. When the subway was complete, the lasses watched until some vessel should arrive. At length a sloop came in loaded with a consignment of culm for Stackpole. That night the liberated men made their way down to the water, seized the sloop, and bound the crew hand and foot, but unfortunately the vessel was high and dry, and it was found impossible to get her off. Alongside was a small yacht belonging to Lord Cawdor which they managed to launch. This would not take them all; but the two women and twenty-five men got on board, taking with them the compass, water casks, and provisions from the sloop. In the morning there was a great hue and cry. Dr. Mansell, a leading man in Pembroke, posted handbills over the whole county, offering 500 guineas for the recovery of these two traitorous women, alive or dead. In a few days the stern of the yacht and other wreckage being picked up, the patriotic party were satisfied that the vengeance of Heaven had overtaken the traitors. They were, however, mistaken, for the Frenchmen captured a sloop laden with corn, and, abandoning the yacht, compelled the crew to carry them to France. When they were safe, it is pleasant to read that the commissary and engineer married the girls. During the short peace, the engineer and his wife returned to Pembroke and told their story; they then went to Merthyr and obtained employment in the mines, but on the renewal of hostilities went back to France, where it is to be hoped they lived very happily ever afterwards.” [157a]
What happened in Pembroke probably happened in Hunts, and it is a simple sum in proportion.
If 500 prisoners won the sympathy of two Welsh lasses, of how many Huntingdon girls did 5,000 prisoners at Norman Cross win the sympathy?
Seven prisoners got away in April 1801. Three privateer officers were retaken at Boston, when they had already reached a port; three others stole a boat at Freiston, and were taken, off the Norfolk coast, by a Revenue cutter—one of them had a chart of the Lincolnshire coast in his hat. [157b]