Every woman fastened her door that night with suspicious care, and the mysterious stranger, and the delineation of his real character by Hopkins, became a subject of general conversation and comment throughout the village, and gradually became the received opinion among all the settlers, so that they set down the mysterious stranger for what Hopkins guessed him to be, and concluded that the articles which composed his baggage could not have been obtained honestly.
The stranger, finding now the conversation turned upon him, did not think it prudent to protract his stay in this place, and proceeding to Boston in the coach, was known from that time by the name of Maitland. He reached Boston about the 1st of November, where it was supposed he must have, in some way, disposed of much of his treasures. From thence he proceeded for New York; on the 7th November arrived at New Haven in the Boston stage coach, by the way of New London, with a large trunk full of clothing, a small portable desk, and money in his pockets. He was dressed in a handsome frock coat, with breeches, and a pair of top boots, and remained at the steamboat hotel several days. While he remained there, he always ate his meals alone, and preferred being alone in different parts of the hotel at different times, every part of which he had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with, while he remained waiting for the arrival of the steamer from New York.
The hotel was then kept by Mr. Henry Butler; and, as it afterwards appeared, the traveller found his way by means of keys, into Mr. Butler’s desk and sideboards, as well as every part of the house. He left New Haven in the steamboat at 5 a.m. on the 10th November, 1815. After his departure from New Haven, Mr. Butler’s servants discovered that their whole quantity of silver spoons, to the number of four or five dozen, which had been carefully put away in a side-board was missing, and not to be found on the premises; and it was found, upon further search by Mr. Butler, that a watch and several other articles, with money from the desk, had sympathetically decamped with the spoons. Mr. Butler imagined that the theft must be chargeable on some lodger in the hotel, and immediately fixed his suspicions upon Smith, whose appearance and movements about the house furnished suspicions too strong to pass unnoticed.
Mr. Butler, without loss of time, set out for New York, and arriving there before the boat that carried the adventurer, he furnished himself with proper authority, and boarded the boat in the stream. After Mr. Butler had made some enquiries of Captain Bunker, who could not identify the traveller among all his passengers, Smith made his appearance from some part of the engine room and was immediately ordered by Mr. Butler to open his trunk, with which he complied unhesitatingly; but the trunk did not disclose the expected booty. There was, however, in the trunk a very neat portable writing desk, which he refused to open, and Mr. Butler could not find out how it was fastened. However, he called for an axe to split it open, upon which Smith said, “I will show you,” and, touching a spring, the lid flew open. The desk contained a set of neat engraving tools, with old silver rings and jewelry, amongst which Mr. Butler perceived a small ear-ring, which he supposed belonged to a young lady that had slept in his house, and laid her ear-rings on a stand at the head of her bed, which were missing the next morning. After her departure one of the rings was found at the door of the hotel. Upon the evidence of this single ear-ring, he was arrested and put into the Bridewell in the city of New York.
The keeper of the Bridewell at that time was Archimial Allen, an old friend of mine, and a man of respectable character. On my visit to New York afterwards, I called on Mr. Allen, and enquired the particulars concerning W. H. Newman, (for this was the name he had assumed then) while in his custody. He informed me that when he was put in he behaved for some time very well; that he offered him a book; but he could neither read nor write a word. He soon began to complain of being sick from confinement, raised blood, and seemed so ill that a doctor attended him, but could not tell what was the matter with him. However, he kept up the farce of being ill until he was removed from Bridewell to New Haven, there to take his trial at the Supreme court in January.
His change of situation had the effect, as it would seem, of restoring his health, which brought along with it that display of his ingenuity which the peculiarity of his new situation seemed to call forth. During the period of his confinement at New Haven, he amused himself by carving two images—one representing himself, and the other Butler, in the attitude of fighting. And so mechanically had he adjusted this production of his genius, that he would actually cause them to fight, and make the image representing himself knock down that of Butler, to the wonder and amusement of many that came to see him. By his insinuating manner and captivating address, he not only drew forth the sympathies of those who came to visit him, but even gained so far upon their credulity, as to induce a belief that he was innocent of the crime with which he was charged.
The lapse of a few days, however, made impressions of a different nature. The January Court term drew nigh, at which our prisoner was to receive his trial, but on the very eve of his trial, and after the Court had been summoned, he, by the power of a mind which seldom failed him in the hour of emergency, contrived and effected his escape in the following curious and singular manner. And here it will be necessary to give some description of the prison, with the situation of the apartments, which the writer was himself, by the politeness of the keeper, permitted to survey. There was a wide hall leading from the front of the County House, and from this hall, two separate prisons were entered by their respective doors; between these doors a timber partition crossed the hall, having in it a door also, to allow an entrance to the inner prison. The object in having this partition, was to prevent any intercourse between the two prison doors, and it was so placed as to leave a distance of about two feet on each side between it and the prison doors respectively. Newman, (for this it will be remembered is the name by which our prisoner is now known); was confined in the inner prison.
The doors of the prison opened by shoving inwards, and when shut were secured by two strong bolts, which entered into stone posts, with clasps lapped over a staple, to which were fixed strong padlocks. These padlocks, our prisoner, by some means, managed to open or remove, so that he could open the door at pleasure, and fix the padlocks again in so geniously, that it could not be detected from their appearance. On the night of the 12th January, at the usual time of feeding the prisoners, Newman, availing himself of these adjustments, opened his door, came out, and replacing the locks, took his stand behind the door of the partition, which, when open, would conceal him from observation. The prisoners in the other apartments received their supply first, and the instant when the servant was proceeding from the door to go and bring Newman’s supper, he stepped through the partition door, which had been first opened and not shut again, and followed the servant softly through the hall to the front door, and walked away undiscovered! When the servant returned with his supper to the wicket, she called him, but receiving no answer, placed his supper inside of the wicket, saying, “you may take it or leave it; I am not going to wait here all night.” She then secured the outer door, and so the matter rested till the morning.
The next morning, finding that the prisoner had not taken his supper, the servant observed to the keeper, that she feared Newman was dead, for he had not taken his supper; and she called him, but could not hear or see anything of him. Upon this, the keeper came with his keys to unlock the door, and to his utter astonishment, found both locks broken and the prison empty. The keeper made known the matter to the sheriff, and on the 13th, the day subsequent to his escape, the following notice was inserted in the Connecticut Journal:
“Beware of a Villain!—One of the most accomplished villains that disgraces our country, broke from the jail in this city on Friday evening last, between the hours of five and six o’clock, and succeeded in making his escape. The fellow calls himself Newman, and was bound over for trial at the sitting of the next Supreme Court, on the charge of burglary, having robbed the house of Mr. Butler, of plate, money, etc. He is supposed to be an Englishman, and is undoubtedly a most profound adept in the arts of knavery and deception. He speaks the English and French languages fluently, and can play off the air of a genteel Frenchman with the most imposing gravity. He is of middling stature, slender and active, and appears to possess an astonishing variety of genius. He is sick or well, grave or gay, silent or loquacious, and can fence, box, fight, run, sing, dance, play, whistle, or talk, as occasion suits. He amused himself while in prison, by making and managing a puppet show, which he performed apparently with such means as to excite the wonder of the credulous, having a piece of an old horse-shoe, whetted on the wall of his dungeon, as the only instrument of his mechanism, and complaining only of the scarcity of timber to complete his group. He had the address, by an irresistable flow of good humor and cheerfulness, to make some believe that he was quite an innocent and harmless man; and excited sympathy enough in those who had the curiosity to see him, to obtain several gratifications which prisoners do not usually enjoy; yet the depth of his cunning was evinced in accomplishing his means of escape, which he effected by sawing a hole in the prison door, which is several inches thick, so neatly, that the block could be taken out and replaced without any marks of violence. Through this hole he could thrust his arm, and by wrenching off strong padlocks, and shoving back the bolts, at the hour of supper, when the person who waited on the prisoners was giving them their food, found a free passage to the hall of the counting house, and thence to the street.”