Henry More Smith: The Mysterious Stranger

by Walter Bates

CHAPTER II.

Examination Before Justice Pickett and Ketchum and Commitment for Trial —Would not Join the 112th Regiment to Secure Freedom—Before the Trial Smith was Attacked by a Strange Disease which Baffled Physicians—Supposed to be Dying He Escapes from the Gaol.

The prisoner had rode all day in the rain, and having had no opportunity of changing his clothes, which by this time had become very wet, it was thought necessary, lest he should sustain injury, to put him into the debtors’ room, handcuffed, where he could have all opportunity of warming and drying himself at the fire; the stove having been out of repair in the criminal’s room. The day following he was removed into the criminal’s room, where irons were considered unnecessary; and, as he appeared quite peaceable, his handcuffs were taken off, and being furnished with a comfortable berth, he seemed reconciled to his situation.

On the 13th of August I received the following letter from the Clerk of the Circuit Court:

Dear Sir,—Mr. Knox has left with me the examination, etc., relating to More Smith, the horse-stealer, now in your gaol; these are all taken in the Province of Nova Scotia, before Magistrates there, and I would recommend that he be brought up before the Magistrates in your County and examined and the examination committed to writing. I do not know under what warrant he is in your custody; but I think it would be as well for the same Magistrates to make out a Mitimus after the examination, as it would be more according to form.

I remain, dear sir, yours,

Ward Chipman.

After proper notice, Judge Pickett, Mr. Justice Ketchum, and Mr. Knox, all attended his examinations; in the course of which he said his name was Henry More Smith, twenty years of age, came from England on account of the war, had been in America about a year and a half, that he was born in Brighton, that his father and mother were living there now, and that he expected them out to Halifax the ensuing spring; that he purchased a farm for them on the River Philip, and had written for them to come. He also stated that he came to St. John on business, where he fell in with Colonel Daniel, of the 99th Regiment, who proposed to give him two hundred dollars if he would bring him a black horse, within a fortnight, that would span with his own of the same color, that he told the Colonel that he knew one that would match his perfectly, and that if he would lend him fifteen guineas, he would leave his own mare in pledge until he would bring the horse, as he knew there was a vessel then in St. John bound to Cumberland, where the horse was. To this proposal he said the Colonel agreed, and having received the money and left the mare, went to his lodgings; but before he could return, the vessel had left him; and having no other conveyance by water, he was obliged to set out on foot; and having a long journey to travel, and but short time to perform it in, he travelled all night, and at daylight was overtaken by a stranger with a large horse and a small mare, which he offered for sale, and that he being weary with walking all night, offered him ten pounds for the mare, which he accepted. That they continued their journey some time, and began to find out that the mare would not answer his purpose; the horse being a good looking one, which he might sell again for the money, he bantered the stranger for a swap, which was effected by giving the mare and fifteen pounds in exchange for the horse, saddle and bridle. He then produced a receipt which he said the stranger gave him, to the following effect:

Received, July 20, 1814, of Henry More Smith, fifteen pounds, in swap of a horse between a small mare and a large horse, I let him have, with a star, six or seven years old.

James Churman.

He then stated that he proceeded on to Cumberland, and bargained for the black horse which was the object of his pursuit; and not having money enough to pay for him, without selling the one he rode, and hearing that Captain Dixon, of Truro, wanted to purchase such a horse, and finding that he, Captain Dixon, had gone on to Pictou, forty miles further, to attend Court, he was obliged to follow him with all speed. That the next day being Sunday, he was obliged to wait till Monday to sell his horse, and was there apprehended by Mr. Knox and charged with stealing his horse; that he was taken before the Court, and had all his money, his watch, and his horse, taken from him, and was sent back to King’s County gaol to take his trial; and complained, that as he was an entire stranger, and had no one to speak for him, unless the man was taken who sold him the horse, his case might be desperate, for he had neither friends nor money, nor any one who knew him to take his part. He complained also of having been badly used by Mr. Knox on the way.

Having been asked by Mr. Knox, in the course of his examination what occupation he followed in the country, he replied, “No one in particular.” Mr. Knox then hastily asked him how he got his living. He replied, with great firmness and self-possession, “By my honesty, Sir.” After this examination a regular commitment was made out, and he returned to prison. He submitted to his confinement without a murmur, and with much seeming resignation; but complained of great pain in his side occasioned by cold he had received. He seemed anxious for an opportunity to send for his portmanteau, which he had said he had left with some other articles in the care of Mr. Stackhouse near Saint John. The portmanteau, he said, contained his clothes, which he would be obliged to sell to raise money for the purpose of procuring necessaries and engaging a lawyer, repeating again, that, as he was a stranger and had no friends to help him, there would be but little chance for him, though innocent, except the thief who stole the horse was taken and brought to justice.

It so happened, on the day following, that I had occasion to go to the City of Saint John in company with Dr. Adino Paddock, senr., when, on our way, he had occasion to call at Mr. Nathaniel Golding’s tavern, in Hampton; and while placing our horses under his shed, we perceived a man mounting a horse in great haste, that was standing at the steps of the door, who immediately rode off with all possible speed, as though he were in fear of being overtaken. On inquiring who he was, we were informed by Mrs. Golding that he was a stranger who had called there once or twice before, and that she believed his name was Chuman or Churman. I observed to the Doctor that that was the name of the man from whom the prisoner, Smith, said he purchased the horse; upon which Mrs. Golding said that she could ascertain that by inquiring in the other room, which she was requested to do, and was answered in the affirmative.

We made frequent inquiries by the way, as we proceeded towards Saint John, but could ascertain nothing further of the stranger by that name. After my return from Saint John I informed the prisoner, Smith, of what happened by the way; he appeared exceedingly elated with the idea of his being the man that had sold him the horse, and said that if he had money or friends he could have him taken and brought to justice, and would soon be restored to liberty again himself; but that if he were suffered to make his escape out of the country, his own case would be deplorable indeed, though he was innocent. He again reiterated his complaint, that he was destitute of money and friends, in a strange country, although anxious to employ a lawyer, he did not know of any to whom he could apply for advice. He was recommended to Charles J. Peters, Esq., attorney, in St. John, with the assurance, that if there were any possibility in the case of getting him clear, Mr. Peters would exert himself in his behalf most faithfully. The first opportunity that offered, he sent an order to Mr. Stackhouse for his portmanteau, with instructions to apply the proceeds of certain articles, which he had left him for sale, if disposed of, in retaining Mr. Peters as his attorney. The return brought a handsome portmanteau and a pair of boots, leaving a small sum in the hands of Mr. Peters, as part of his retainer, which was to be increased to five guineas before the sitting of the court. This arrangement seemed to be productive of much satisfaction to the prisoner, and for the purpose of fulfilling the engagement with Mr. Peters, he expressed a desire to dispose of the contents of his portmanteau, as far as it was necessary for making up the sum. He gave me the key, with which I opened his portmanteau, and found it well filled with various articles of valuable clothing; two or three genteel coats, with vests and pantaloons, of the first quality and cut; a superior top-coat of the latest fashion, faced with black silk, with silk stockings and gloves and a variety of books, consisting of a neat pocket-bible and prayer-book, a London Gazetteer, a Ready Reckoner, and several other useful books. He had also a night and day spy-glass of the best kind, and a small magnifying glass in a tortoise-shell case, with many other useful articles. Suspicions of his not having come honestly by the contents of his portmanteau was not the impression that was made; but rather that he had been handsomely and respectably fitted out by careful and affectionate parents, anxious for his comfort and happiness, and that he was, in all probability, innocent of the charge alleged against him. He soon commenced selling off his little stock, and for the purpose of affording him a facility, persons, wishing to purchase from him, were permitted to come to the wicket door, through which he could make his bargain, and dispose of his things. He never failed to endeavor to excite the pity of those who came to visit him, by representing his deplorable situation, he being reduced to the necessity of selling his clothes to raise the means of defending his innocence in a strange country from the unfortunate charge preferred against him. Nor did he fail of his purpose, for many, from pure sympathy for his unfortunate situation purchased from him, and paid him liberally. Among those who came to see there was a young man, who said he had known the prisoner in St. John and professed to visit him from motives of friendship; he had access to him through the grates of the window, and some of the glass being broken, he could hold free conversation through the grates. The last time he came he carried off the night and day glass for debt which he said he owed him while in St. John; but the probability was that he had given him a watch in exchange.

The prison was then kept by Mr. Walter Dibble, a man of learning and talents, who for several years had been afflicted with a painful disease, so that for a great part of the time, he was confined to the house, and frequently to his room, in the County Court House, where he taught a school, by which means, together with the fees and perquisites of the jail and court house, afforded him a comfortable living for himself and family, consisting of his wife and daughter, and one son named John, about nineteen years of age, who constantly attended his father. It may be also necessary to mention that Mr. Dibble was one of the principal members of the Masonic Lodge held at Kingston, and was in high esteem among them; besides he was regarded by all who knew him as a man of honesty and integrity, and well worthy to fill any situation of responsibility or trust. I am induced to advert to those particulars of Mr. Dibble’s character because I am indebted to him for many of the particulars relative to the prisoner, and because, having had a person who could be relied on, there was less necessity for my visiting the prisoner very frequently, which did not exceed once a week generally, except upon special occasions.

Shortly after the commitment of the prisoner he was visited by Lieutenant Baxter, an officer of the New Brunswick Regiment, then recruiting at Kingston. The officer proposed to the prisoner to enlist him, as a means by which he might be released from his confinement. The idea he spurned with contempt, and chose rather to await the issue of his trial, depending on his professed innocence of the crime for which he stood committed. He was, however, prevailed on to write to his attorney on the subject, and received for his answer that such a measure was inadmissible, and advised him to content himself and await the issue of his trial. He appeared much displeased with the abruptness of his attorney’s answer, and seemed rather to look upon this short and summary reply, as an indication of his displeasure with him, and as an omen that he, his attorney, would not interest himself much in his behalf.

About this time, Sept. 7th, I received a letter from the Clerk of the Circuit Court inclosing a Precept to summon a Court of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, to be held at Kingston, on Tuesday, the 27th of September. On the approach of the period for his trial, he was encouraged by his friends to rely with full confidence on his attorney, with repeated assurances that he would give his case all possible attention: but with all his professed ignorance of the law, (and this ignorance he had often declared with apparent simplicity), the prisoner knew too much of it to resign himself with confidence to the issue of a cause which could promise him nothing but conviction, and confirm his guilt. He therefore, upon his professed dissatisfaction with his attorney, appeared to think no more about him, not to renew his enquiries concerning him, but set about a more summary method of extricating himself from the power of the law. He turned his attention to the Bible, and perused it with an air of much seriousness, as though the concerns of the unseen world engrossed all his thoughts; he behaved himself in every respect with becoming propriety, and his whole demeanor was such as to engage much interest in his behalf.

About this time he discovered symptoms of a severe cold, being troubled with a hollow sounding cough, and complained of a pain in the side, but still submitted to his confinement without a murmur or complaint. He would frequently advert to the ill usage which he said he had received by the way from Pictou, after he was made prisoner, particularly of a blow in the side with a pistol, given by Mr. Knox, which felled him to the ground, as he expressed it, like a dead man; that when he had recovered his respiration which had been for some time suspended, he raised blood, and continued to raise blood occasionally by the way for two or three days; that the pain had never left him since, and was, as he believed, approaching to a gathering in the inside, which he feared would finally prove fatal to him. He showed a bruised spot on his side which was swelled and much discolored, and apparently very painful. All this was accompanied with loss of appetite and increased feebleness of body; but he still discovered a remarkable resignation to his fate. His situation was such as to excite sympathy and feeling, so that an endeavor was made to render him as comfortable as possible, by keeping his apartment properly tempered with heat, and providing him with such food as was adapted to the delicacy of his constitution.

His disease, however, continued to increase, and his strength to decline, with all the symptoms of approaching dissolution; pain in the head and eyes, dizziness, with sickness at the stomach, frequent raising of blood, and of increased painfulness of the contusion on his side. It was now considered high time to apply to a physician, and on the 11th of September I sent for a doctor, who examined his side, and the general state of his disease, and gave him some medicine. On the 12th, he appeared a little better. Thirteenth, at evening, grew worse. Fourteenth, unable to walk,—very high fever, with frequent chills of ague. Fifteenth, vomiting and raising blood more frequently. Sixteenth, the Rev. Mr. Scovil visited him in the morning, found him very ill, and sent him toast and wine and some other cordials. Same day the doctor attended him at 3 o’clock, and gave him medicine. At 6 o’clock, no better, and vomiting whatever he took. Eighteenth, appeared still to grow worse; was visited by Judge Pickett and several other neighbors, and being asked whether he wanted anything, or what he could take, answered “nothing, except an orange or a lemon.” Nineteenth, appeared to decline very fast; at 2 o’clock, was visited by the doctor, who said the man must be removed out of that room, that he was too ill to be kept there, and that it was of no use to give him medicine in so damp a place. Twentieth, in the morning, found him still declining; at ten o’clock, Mr. Thaddeus Scribner and others went in to see him, inspecting the room, but found no dampness that could injure even a sick man taking medicine.

The Rev. Mr. Scovil visited him in the afternoon, and introduced the subject of his approaching end. The prisoner conversed freely on the subject, and expressed his conviction that there was little or no hope of his recovery. He stated to Mr. Scovil that he was born in England, that his parents were formerly attached to the Church of England, but had lately joined the Methodists; that he came from England, on account of the war, and that he expected his parents to come to the country next spring, which last circumstance seemed to excite in him strong emotions. Twenty-first, the Rev. Mr. Scovil with others of the neighborhood visited him in the morning; no favorable symptoms. Twenty-second, the prisoner very low; violent fever, accompanied with chills and ague. Inflammation of the bowels, with evacuations of blood for the last two days, extremities cold, and strength greatly reduced, insomuch that he could only just articulate above his breath. Was understood to say, that he should die for want of medical assistance, as the doctor had refused to attend him any more in that place, and the sheriff refused to remove him.

His situation had by this time excited general sympathy and pity; his seeming simplicity, passiveness and resignation, greatly contributing to produce the effect. At 6 o’clock, Rev. Mr. Scovil and a great number of the neighbors came and sat with him till ten o’clock, and then left him with the impression that he would not live till morning. Friday, 23rd, went to the gaol early in the morning, found the prisoner lying on the floor, naked, and seemingly in great distress; said he had fallen through pain and weakness, and could not get up again. He was taken up and carried to his bed; appeared as though he would instantly expire; continued in a low and almost lifeless state till 5 o’clock in the afternoon, when he appeared to all present to be really dying. Rev. Mr. Scovil, Mr. Perkins, Mr. G. Raymond, all near neighbors, and Mr. Eddy, from Saint John, who happened to be in Kingston at the time, all supposed him to be in the agonies of death. He fell into a state of insensibility, and continued so until a phial of hartshorn was brought from an adjoining room, the application of which seemed to revive him a little.

After some time he recovered so far as to be able to articulate, and upon its being observed to him that he had a fit, he replied that he was sensible of it, and that it was his family infirmity, and that many of his connections had died in the same way; and further remarked that he did not think he could survive another, which would probably come upon him about the same time next day; that he was sensible he should not recover; but that God would have him. He then asked Mr. Scovil to pray with him; his desire was complied with, and prayer offered up in the most solemn and devout manner; the occasion was deeply affecting, and all departed with the full conviction, that the patient would not linger till the morning.

Previous to this, no regular watchers had attended him; but it was now considered highly necessary that some persons should sit with him till the morning; consequently John Dibble and Charles Cambreau were appointed by the sheriff to watch him through the night.

The next morning the following letter was dispatched to Mr. Peters, the prisoner’s attorney:

Dear Sir:—I fear we shall be disappointed in our expectations of the trial of the prisoner, More Smith, at the approaching Court, as I presume from appearance, he will be removed by death before that time. He is dying in consequence of a blow that he received, as he says, from Mr. Knox, with a pistol, which he has regularly complained of since he has been in gaol, and is now considered past recovery. As it will be a matter of enquiry, and new to me, I will thank you to let me know by the bearer what would be the necessary steps for me to take; and not fail, as I have but little hopes of his continuing till morning.

Yours, &c.,

Walter Bates.

The return of the bearer brought the following:

St. John, Sept. 24th,—Dear Sir,—Your favor of yesterday I received this morning, and I am sorry to hear so desponding an account of the unfortunate man in your custody. It will be your duty, I conceive, to have a Coroner’s inquest on the body, and then have it decently interred. With respect to the cause of the death, that is a circumstance which must rest wholly on facts; if any physician shall attend him, let him be particular in taking down in writing what the man says in his last moments, as to the circumstances; and if a Justice should be then present, it would not be amiss.

In haste, yours, sincerely,

C. J. Peters.

Saturday, 24th.—The watchers reported that he had passed a very restless night, and but just survived the morning; that he complained for want of medical assistance. The following note was then sent to the doctor who had attended him:

Kingston, September 24th, 1814,—Dear Doctor: Smith, the prisoner, says that he is suffering for want of medical assistance, and that you will not attend him unless he is removed into another room, which cannot be permitted; he must take his fate where he now is, and if he dies in gaol, an enquiry will take place which may prove to your disadvantage. I must therefore request your attention.

I am yours, &c.,

Dr. A. Paddock, Jr. Walter Bates.

At this time the sympathy and compassion of the whole neighborhood was excited to the highest degree. The family of the Rev. Mr. Scovil, especially manifested deep concern for him, and sent him everything that they thought would either comfort or relieve him; as did also the family of Mr. Perkins, and that of Mr. Raymond; all these having been in the immediate neighborhood. But the prisoner used little or none of their cordials or delicacies. Mr. Perkins visited him about 10 o’clock, a.m., and kindly proposed to watch with him the ensuing night, for which he discovered much thankfulness. In the course of the day the doctor came, and gave him some medicine; but found him so weak, that he required to be lifted and supported while he was receiving it. The doctor acknowledged his low state, but did not think him so near his end, as to die before morning, unless he should go off in a fit. This, the patient said, was what he had reason to fear would be his fate before morning, and therefore wished to make his will.

All his clothes, at his death, he willed to John Dibble; and his money, about three pounds, which he always kept by him in his berth, he bequeathed to the jailor, for his kind attention to him in his sickness. The money Mr. Dibble proposed to take charge of; but Smith said it was safe where it was for the present.

Mr. N. Perkins having had occasion to call that day on Mr. W. H. Lyon, was enquired of by him concerning the state of the prisoner. Mr. Perkins informed him that he was alive when he left him; but thought he would be dead before night. This information Mr. Lyon communicated the same evening to a number of persons who were assembled at the house of Mr. Scribner, and added that he was dead, for that while he was on his way to Mr. Scribner’s, (it having been in the dusk of the evening,) he had seen Smith’s Ghost pass by him at a short distance off, without touching the ground. This singular report, as it came from a quarter that could not be well disputed, very much alarmed the whole company, and formed the subject of their conversation for the evening.

But return to our narrative. After the prisoner had made his will, he was, for a short time, left alone, with the probability that he would shortly be seized by another fit, which he was not expected to survive. About 6 o’clock in the evening, the Rev. Mr. Scovil observed to his family, that it was then about the same hour of the day at which Smith had had his fit on the day preceding; that he thought he would die suddenly; he would therefore walk over to the Court House and be ready there at the time, as it must be unpleasant for Mr. Dibble to be alone. This so much awakened the sensibilities of Mrs. Scovil, that she could not bear the reflection, that a child of parents that were perhaps respectable, should be so near her, in a strange country, sick and dying, on a bed of straw. She therefore called Amy, her wench. “Here,” said she, “take this feather bed, and carry it to the gaol, and tell Mr. Dibble that I have sent it for Smith to die on.” Mr. Scovil had been in the house, and seated with Mr. Dibble but a very short time, when a noise was heard from Smith in the gaol. John Dibble, who constantly attended on him, ran in haste, unlocked the prison door, found him in the agonies of a fit, and almost expiring. He made an effort to speak, and begged John to run and heat a brick that was near, and apply it to his feet, to give him one moment’s relief while he was dying, for that his feet and legs were already cold and dead to the knees. John, willing to afford what relief he could to the dying man, ran in great haste from the gaol through the passage round the stairway that led to the kitchen, where was a large fire of coals, into which he cast the brick, waited but a few minutes, and returned with the heated brick to the prison; but to his indiscribable astonishment, and almost unwilling to believe the evidence of his senses, the dying man had disappeared, and could not be found!!! John ran with the tidings to his father and the Rev. Mr. Scovil, who were sitting in a room which the prisoner must have passed in his escape. They were entirely incredulous to the report of an affair so unparalleled, and would not yield their belief until they searched every corner of the apartment themselves, and found that Smith had not only effected his escape, but had also carried his money, his boots, and every article of clothing away with him.

It is impossible to conceive or describe the feeling of astonishment with which every one about the house was filled, when they found that the man, who had been groaning and agonizing under the pain of an accumulation of diseases, which night after night, seemed to have been wasting his strength, and bringing him nearer the close of his unhappy life—had, in a moment, and the very moment which was thought to be his last, seized the opportunity of his prison door being open, and rushed from his confinement, leaving not a vestige of his moveables behind him. As soon as a search through the prison confirmed the fact of the elopement, the inmates hastened outside, and continued their search around the premises. At this moment, Amy, the wench, made her appearance, carrying the feather bed; and seeing the people around the house said to them: “Misses send this bed for Smit to die on.” Her master told her to take it home, and tell her mistress that Smith was gone. Amy ran home and told her mistress that massa say Smit dead and gone—he no want im bed! “Ah!” exclaimed her mistress, “poor man, is he dead? Then, Amy, you may run and carry this shirt and winding sheet, to lay Smith out in.” Amy instantly obeyed, and told her master accordingly. “You may take them back,” said he, “Smith is gone!” “Where he gone, massa?” “I don’t know,” said he, “except the devil has taken him off!” Amy hastened back to her mistress, and told her that “massa say Smit be dead and gone, and the devil has taken him away!” So much was the mind of every one prepared to hear of his death, that the expression, “Smith is gone!” served to convey no other idea. The sheriff himself, who had not been present, and did not hear of the affair immediately, gave the sentence the same interpretation. A messenger having been dispatched to him with the tidings, met him on his way to the gaol, expecting to witness the last moments of the patient. On being informed by the messenger that “Smith was gone,” “Ah poor fellow,” he exclaimed, “I expected it.” “What time did he die?” “But he is gone clear off.” “It is impossible,” rejoined the Sheriff, “that he can be far from his sick bed.” “Why,” replied the messenger, “they were all about the gaol looking for him, and no one could tell which way he had gone.” “Unparalleled and abominable deception!” replied the sheriff. “How did he get out of gaol!” He believed John Dibble left the door open while he ran to beat a brick, and then Smith made his escape.

This was to us the first development of the true character of Henry More Smith, and thus, by means of a counterfeit illness, which melted the feelings and drew the sympathies of the whole neighborhood; which baffled every power of detection, and imposed even upon the physician himself, did this accomplished villain effect his release, and was now again running at large, glorying in the issue of his scheme.