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.