The first operation is from the tamborine player, or master, who gives two or three single strokes on his tamborine, that may be heard in any part of the house, without moving his body. He then dances gracefully a few steps, without touching his tamborine; the lady is then swung two or three times by the steward; then the gallant takes a few steps; then the two below tilt a few times in the most easy, pleasant manner; then the two children dance a little, holding each other by the hand; after this, Smith begins to sing or whistle a tune, to which they are to dance, at which the tamborine strikes, and every one dances to the tune, with motion, ease, and exactness not to be described. Many have been the observations of spectators; amongst them, an old German observed that, “when he was starving the seven days, he was making a league with the devil and that he helped him.” All acknowledged with me, that it exceeds anything they ever saw or imagined. His whole conduct from the first has been, and is, one continued scene of mystery.
He has never shown any idea or knowledge of his trial or present situation; he seems happy; his irons and chains are no apparent inconvenience; contented like a dog or monkey broke to his chain; shows no more idea of anything past, than if he had no recollection.
He, in short, is a mysterious character, possessing the art of invention beyond common capacity. I am almost ashamed to forward you so long a letter on the subject, and so unintelligible; I think, if I could have done justice in describing the exhibition, it would have been worthy a place in the “Royal Gazette,” and better worth the attention of the public than all the wax-work ever exhibited in this Province.
I am with all respect, Dear Sir,
Your Humble Servant,
Walter Bates.
To Thomas Wetmore, Esquire, Attorney General.
“P.S.—Wednesday, the 28th.—This morning I found he added to his works a drummer, placed at the left of his tamborine player, equal in appearance, and exceeding in performance; beats the drum with either hand, or both occasionally, in concert with the tamborine, keeping time with perfect exactness; sometimes sitting, at others standing or dancing. He had also, in the most striking manner, changed the position of his scene. The lady above described to be sitting so gracefully in her swing, with so many attendants and admirers, is now represented sitting in a dejected posture, with a young infant in her arms; her gallant has left her, and is taking the young girl before described, about fourteen, by the hand, with an air of great gallantry, leading her, and dancing to the tune with perfect exactness, representing more than can be described. On viewing this an old Scotchman observed,—‘Some say he is mad, others he is a fool; but I say he is the sharpest man I ever saw; his performance exceeds all I have ever met with, and I do not believe he was ever equalled by man.’ This evening, a gentleman from Boston, having heard the above description, came to see the performance, and declared he could say, as the Queen of Sheba did, that ‘the half had not been told.’”
To this the editor of the “Gazette” adds the following remarks:
“We have given an entire copy of the above letter, which has excited our astonishment, and will, probably, that of every other person who has not seen the exhibition and performance described in it. Those who are acquainted with the sheriff, know him to be incapable of stating falsehoods, or attempting in any way to practice a deception, and will, of course, give credit to the statement of facts, wonderful as they may appear to be, which he has made.”