Seen in the Connecticut Prison by Sheriff Bates He Denies That He is
Henry More Smith—After His Release from Prison He Robbed a
Passenger in the Boston Coach—Visits Upper Canada as a
Smuggler—Turns up as a Preacher in the Southern States—Is Arrested
in Maryland for Theft—Possibly Finished His Career in Toronto.
After I arrived in New Haven, where I was put in possession of these
particulars concerning him, no person was known in the United States who
could identify him to be the noted Henry More Smith but myself. I was
consequently requested, for the gratification of the public, to go to
Simsbury Mines to see him. I had the curiosity to see how he conducted
himself at Newgate, and proceeded to Simsbury, about fifty miles, for
the purpose. On my arrival at Simsbury, I enquired of Capt. Washburn,
the keeper of the prison, how Newman conducted himself. He answered that
he behaved very well; that he heard that he was a very bad fellow, but
he had so many that were worse he did not think anything bad in Newman.
I further enquired of the keeper what account Newman gave of himself,
and what he acknowledged to have been his occupation. His answer to
these enquiries were, that he professed to be a tailor, if anything, but
he had not been accustomed to much hard work, as he had always been
subject to fits; that his fits were frightful, and that in his agony and
distress he would turn round on his head and shoulders like a top, and
he was so bruised and chafed with his irons in his convulsive agonies,
that he had taken the shackles off his legs, so that now he had only one
on one leg. This was as convincing to me as possible that he was my old
friend Smith.
The captain asked me if I had a wish to liberate him. I replied, my
object was to ascertain whether he were a prisoner I had in my custody
more than twelve months, and that if he were, he would know me
immediately, but would not profess to know me. Accordingly, when he was
brought into my presence in the captain’s room, he maintained a perfect
indifference, and took no notice of me whatever. I said to him, “Newman,
what have you been doing that has brought you here?” “Nothing,” said he,
“I had an ear-ring with me that belonged to my wife, and a young lady
claimed it and swore it belonged to her, and I had no friend to speak in
favor of me, and they sent me to prison.” I then asked him whether he
had ever seen me before. He looked earnestly upon me and said, “I do not
know but I have seen you at New Haven, there were many men at court.”
“Where did you come from?” His reply was, “I came from Canada.” “What
countryman are you?” “A Frenchman, born in France.” He had been in
London and Liverpool, but never at Brighton. “Was you ever at Kingston,
New Brunswick?” He answered, “No, he did not know where that was,” with
a countenance as unmoved as if he had spoken in all the confidence of
truth.
He appeared rather more fleshy than when at Kingston; but still remained
the same subtle, mysterious being. I understood that he was the first
that had ever effected an exemption from labor in that prison by or on
any pretence whatever. He kept himself clean and decent, and among the
wretched victims who were daily brought from the horrid pit in chains
and fetters to their daily labor of making nails, William Newman
appeared quite a distinguished character. So obtuse was he that he could
not be taught to make a nail, and yet so ingenious was he, that he made
a jew’s harp to the greatest perfection, without being discovered at
work and without its being known until he was playing on it.
It was in the city of New Haven that the author published the first
edition of these Memoirs, being aware that here, where his character and
unprecedented actions were perfectly known throughout the country, the
publication of his doings at Kingston, and his career throughout the
Provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia would not only be desirable
and acceptable, but would also be received with less scrupulousness,
when brought, as it were, in contact with facts of a similar nature
publicly known and believed.
While these papers were being prepared for the press, a gentleman from
Washington, Major McDaniel, on his return from Boston, boarded some time
in the same house with me, that of Mr. Joseph Nichols, and having heard
some details from me of his unprecedented character and actions in New
Brunswick, and having also become acquainted with the facts relating to
his imprisonment and escape, etc., in that place, could not repress his
curiosity in going to see him, and requested me to accompany him at his
own expense. He observed that it would be a high gratification to him,
on his return to Washington, that he would not only have one of my books
with him, but would also be able to say that he had personally seen the
sheriff from New Brunswick that had written the book, and had seen the
remarkable character in the prison of Newgate that had constituted the
subject of the book, and also the prison of New Haven from which he
escaped.
Accordingly we set out from Newgate, and my friend had the satisfaction
of seeing the noted Henry More Smith, now William Newman. On our leaving
him, I said to him, “Now, Smith, if you have anything you wish to
communicate to your wife, I will let her know it.” He looked at me and
said, “Sir, are you going to the Jerseys?” “Why do you think your wife
is there?” “I hope so; I left her there,” was his reply, and that with
as much firmness and seeming earnestness as if he had never before seen
my face. After I had left him and returned to New Haven, and furnished
the printer with this additional sketch, and had the Memoirs completed,
one of the books was shown to him, which he perused with much attention
and replied with seeming indifference that there never was such a
character in existence, but that some gentleman travelling in the United
States had run short of money, and had invented that book to defray his
expenses!
Immediately after he had read the Memoirs of his own unparalleled life
and actions, and pronounced the whole a fiction, as if to outdo anything
before recited of him, or attributed to him, he added the following
remarkable feat to the list, already so full of his singular and
unprecedented actions. In the presence of a number of young persons, and
when there was a fine fire burning on the hearth, he affected to be
suddenly seized with a violent convulsive fit, falling down on the floor
and bounding and writhing about as if in the most agonizing suffering.
And what constituted the wonder of this masterpiece of affectation was,
that in his spasmodic contortions his feet came in contact with the
fire, and were literally beginning to be roasted, without his appearing
to feel any pain from the burning. This circumstance confirmed the
belief in the bystanders that the fit was a reality; and he did not miss
his aim in showing off his spasmodic attack, which was indeed done to
the life. He was consequently exempted from hard labor, and was
permitted to employ himself in any trifling occupation he chose, or in
making jew’s harps, pen-knives, knives of various descriptions, and
rings, in the mechanism of which he displayed much original talent and
characteristic ingenuity. Many persons, from mere curiosity, purchased
among the rest may be instanced the case of two young men, who very much
admired his small pen-knives, and proposed purchasing two of them on
condition of his engraving his name on the handles of them. He
immediately engraved, with perfect neatness, “Henry More Smith,” on one
side of one of them, “William Newman,” on the other side, and on the
other knife he engraved, “Mysterious Stranger.” These knives were kept
by their owners as curiosities, and many persons were much gratified by
seeing them. One of them was sometime after brought to Kingston, and I
myself had the gratification of seeing the name of my old domestic
engraved on the handle.
Under the indulgent treatment he received in Newgate, he became
perfectly reconciled to his situation, manifesting no desire to leave
it. “Contentment” he said, “is the brightest jewel in this life, and I
was never more contented in my life.” Consequently he never attempted
any means of escape.
After the period of his imprisonment was up, and he had received his
discharge, he left with the keeper of the prison a highly finished
pocket-knife, of moderate size, the handle of which contained a watch,
complete in all its parts, keeping time regularly. And what excited much
wonder in reference to this ingenious and singularly curious piece of
mechanism, was the fact that he had never been found at work on any part
of the watch or knife, and yet there was no doubt in the minds of those
who saw it that it was in reality the production of his own genius, and
the work of his own hands. For this information I was indebted to a
gentleman named Osborne, who resided in the neighbourhood, and who
stated that he had seen the watch and knife himself, and that it was
regarded by all as a most wonderful piece of ingenuity.
He left Simsbury decently apparelled, and with some money in his pocket,
and in possession of some articles of his own handiwork. He directed his
course eastward, and was seen in Boston; but for some time nothing
particular or striking was heard of him. The first thing concerning him,
that arrested public attention, was published in the Boston Bulletin,
and which came under my own eye:
BEWARE OF PICKPOCKETS!—As the stage coach, full of passengers, was on
its way to this city a few evenings since, one of the passengers rang
the bell, and cried out to the driver to stop his horses, as his
pockets had been picked of a large sum of money since he entered the
coach; and at the same time requested the driver would not let any of
the passengers get out of the coach; it being dark, until he, the
aforesaid passenger, should bring a light in order to have a general
search. This caused a general feeling of pockets among the passengers,
when another passenger cried out that his pocket-book had also been
stolen. The driver did as directed until the gentleman who first spoke
should have time to have procured a lamp, but whether he found it or
not remained quite uncertain. But no doubt he found the light he
intended should answer his purpose, as he did not make his appearance
in any other light. However the passenger who really lost his
pocket-book, which, although it did not contain but a small amount of
money, thinks he shall hereafter understand what is meant when a man
in a stage coach calls out thief, and that he will prefer darkness
rather than light, if ever such an evil joke is offered to be played
with him again.
As he was continually changing his name, as well as his place, it was
impossible always to identify his person, especially as few persons in
the United States were personally acquainted with him. The difficulty of
recognizing him was not a little increased also by the circumstances of
his continually changing his external appearance; and the iniquitous
means by which he could obtain money and change of apparel, always
afforded him a perfect facility of assuming a different appearance. In
addition to these circumstances also, as a feature of character which no
less contributed to the difficulty of identifying him, must be taken
into account his unequalled and inimitable ease in affecting different
and various characters, and his perfect and unembarrassed composure in
the most difficult and perplexing circumstances. To the identity and
eccentricity, therefore, of his actions, rather than to our knowledge of
the identity of his person and name, we must depend, in our future
attempts to trace his footsteps and mark their characteristic points.
On this ground, therefore, there is not the shadow of a doubt that the
robbery committed in the stage coach, and that the originality of the
means by which he carried off his booty pointed with unhesitating
certainty to the noted character of our narrative. After this
depredation in the coach, with which he came off successful, it would
appear that he bended his course in disguise through the States of
Connecticut and New York, assuming different characters and committing
many robberies undiscovered and even unsuspected for a length of time,
and afterwards made his appearance in Upper Canada in the character of a
gentleman merchant from New Brunswick with a large quantity of smuggled
goods from New York, which he said was coming on after him in wagons.
These, he said, he intended to dispose of on very moderate terms, so as
to suit purchasers.
Here he called upon my brother, Augustus Bates, Deputy Postmaster, at
Wellington Square, head of Lake Ontario, and informed the family that he
was well acquainted with Sheriff Bates at Kingston, and that he called
to let them know that he and his family were well. He regretted very
much that he had not found Mr. Bates at home, and stated that he was
upon urgent and important business and could not tarry with them for the
night, but would leave a letter for him. This he accordingly did,
properly addressed, and in good handwriting; but when it was opened, and
its contents examined, no one in the place could make out the name of
the writer, or read any part of the letter! It appeared to have been
written in the characters of some foreign language, but it could not be
decyphered. This was another of his characteristic eccentricities, but
his intention in it could not be well understood.
He did not appear to make himself particularly known to the family, nor
to cultivate any further acquaintance with them, but proceeded thence to
the principal boarding house in the town and engaged entertainments for
himself and thirteen other persons, who, he said, were engaged in
bringing on his wagons, loaded with his smuggled goods. Having thus
fixed upon a residence for himself and his gang of wagoners, he then
called upon all the principal merchants in the town, on pretence of
entering into contracts for storing large packages of goods, and
promising to give great bargains to purchasers on their arrival, and in
some instances actually received money as earnest on some packages of
saleable goods, for the sale of which he entered into contracts. It may
be remarked, by the way, that he wrote also in an unknown and
unintelligible hand to the celebrated Captain Brant, the same as he had
written to Mr. Bates, but with what view was equally mysterious and
unaccountable.
Notwithstanding his genteel and respectable appearance, there was a
singularity in his manner and conduct which, with all his tact and
experience, he could not altogether conceal, and hence arose some
suspicions as to the reality of his pretensions. These suspicions
received confirmation, and were soon matured into the reality of his
being a genteel imposter, from the fact that the time for the arrival of
his wagons was now elapsed, and that they were not making an appearance.
At this juncture, when public attention and observation were directed to
the stranger to observe which way the balance would turn, an individual
named Brown, who had formerly resided in New Brunswick, and moved with
his family to Canada, coming into contact with the gentleman, recognized
him from a certain mark he carried on his face to be the far-famed Henry
More Smith, whom he had seen and known when in gaol at Kingston.
This report passing immediately into circulation, gave the imposter a
timely signal to depart, without waiting for the arrival of his wagons
and baggage, and without loss of time he took his departure from Canada,
by the way of Lake Erie, through the Michigan Territory, and down the
Ohio to the Southern States. With his proceedings during this course of
his travels we are entirely unacquainted; therefore the reader must be
left to his own reflections as to his probable adventures as he
travelled through this immense tract of country. There is no reason for
doubt, however, that he had by this time, and even long before, become
so confirmed in his iniquitous courses that he would let no occasion
pass unimproved that would afford him an opportunity of indulging in the
predominant propensity of mind which seemed to glory in the prosecutions
of robberies and plunder, as well as in the variety of means by which he
effected his unheard of and unprecedented escapes.
After his arrival in the Southern States, we are again able to glean
something of his life and history. While he was yet in the gaol at
King’s county, it will be remembered that he said he had been a
preacher, and that he should preach again, and would gain proselytes;
and now his prediction is brought about, for under a new name, that of
Henry Hopkins, he appeared in the character of a preacher in the
Southern States! And what wonder? For Satan himself is transformed into
an angel of light. Here, even in this character he was not without
success, for he got many to follow and admire him; yet deep as his
hypocrisy was, he seemed to be fully sensible of it, although his
conscience had become seared, and was proof against any proper sense of
wrong. He acknowledged that he had been shocked to see so many follow
him to hear him preach, and even to be affected under his preaching.
Our source of information does not furnish us with any of the
particulars which marked his conduct while itinerating through the South
in his newly assumed character; yet general accounts went on to say that
he had, for a length of time, so conducted himself that he gained much
popularity in his ministerial calling, and had a considerable number of
adherents. However, this may have been the case for a length of time,
yet as the assumption of this new character could not be attributable to
any supernatural impulse, but was merely another feature of a character
already so singularly diversified, intended as a cloak under which he
might, with less liability to suspicion, indulge the prevailing and all
controlling propensities of his vitiated mind, it was not to be
expected, with all the ingenuity he was capable of exercising, that he
would long be able to conceal his real character. Accordingly, some
misdemeanor, which we have not been able to trace, at length disclosed
the hypocrisy of his character, and placed him before his deluded
followers in his true light.
It would appear, whatever might have been the nature of his crime, that
legal means were adopted for his apprehension, and that in order to
expedite his escape from the hands of justice, he had seized upon a
certain gentleman’s coach and horses and was travelling in the character
of a gentleman in state, when he was overtaken and apprehended in the
State of Maryland. Here he was tried and convicted, and sentenced to
seven years imprisonment in the state prison in Baltimore, which, from
the nature of the climate, was generally believed would terminate his
career. The particulars of this adventure I received in the city of New
York in 1827, where I took much pains to obtain all possible information
concerning his proceedings in the Southern States while passing under
the character of a preacher.
In 1833 it so happened that I had occasion to visit the city of New York
again, when I renewed my enquiries concerning him, but to no effect; no
sources of information to which I had access yielded any account of him,
and the most rational conjecture was that he either terminated his
course in the state prison at Baltimore, or that one day, should he
outlive the period of his confinement and be again let loose upon the
peace of society, some fresh development of his character would point
out the scene of his renewed depredations.
In this painful state of obscurity I was reluctantly obliged to leave
the hero of our narrative on my return from New York.
Another year had nearly elapsed before any additional light was thrown
upon his history; but in an unexpected moment, when the supposition of
his having ended his career in the prison at Baltimore was becoming
fixed, I received, by the politeness of a friend, a file of the _New
York Times_, one of the numbers of which contained the following
article, bringing our adventurer again full into view in his usual
characteristic style:
“POLICE OFFICE—ROBBERY AND SPEEDY ARREST: A French gentleman from the
South, (so represented by himself), who has for a few weeks past under
the name of Henry Bond, been running up a bill and running down the
fare, at the Francklin House, was this afternoon arrested at the
establishment on the ungentlemanly charge of pillaging the trunks of
lodgers. Since his sojourn a variety of articles had disappeared from
the chambers of the hotel, and amongst the rest about two hundred
dollars from the trunk of one gentleman. No one, however, had thought
of suspecting the French gentleman, who was also a lodger, until this
morning, when, unfortunately for him, his face was recognized by a
gentleman who knew him to have been in the state prison at Baltimore.
However, on searching him, which he readily complied with, not one
cent of the money could be found either upon his baggage or his
person; but in lieu thereof, they found him possessed of a large
number of small keys, through which, no doubt, he found means of
disposing of any surplus of circulating medium, whereupon his quarters
were changed to Bridewell until the ensuing term of General Sessions.”
Here he remained in confinement until the period of his trial came
round, when, for want of sufficient evidence to commit him to the state
prison, he was thence discharged, and the next account we hear of him
brings him before our view under the name of Henry Preston, arrested in
the act of attempting to rob the Northern Mail Coach, as will appear by
the following article extracted from the _Times_:
POLICE OFFICE, Monday, Feb. 22nd, 1835—Just as this office was closing
on Saturday evening, a very gentlemanly looking man, decently dressed,
calling himself Henry Preston, was brought up in the custody of the
driver and guard of the Northern mail stage who charged him with an
attempt to rob the mail. The accusers testified that within a short
distance of Peekskill they discovered the prisoner about a hundred
yards ahead of the stage, and on approaching nearer they saw him jump
over a fence, evidently to avoid notice. This, of course, excited
their suspicion, and they kept an eye to the mail which was deposited
in the boot. In the course of a short time the guard discovered the
rat nibbling at the bait, and desiring the driver not to stop the
speed of the horses, he quietly let himself down and found the
prisoner actively employed loosening the strap which confines the
mail-bag! He was instantly arrested, placed in the carriage and
carried to town free of expense. Having nothing to offer in
extenuation of his offence, Mr. Henry Preston was committed to
Bridewell until Monday for further investigation.
POLICE OFFICE, Monday morning—This morning, Henry Preston, committed
for attempting to rob the Northern Mail, was brought up before the
Sitting Magistrates, when the High Sheriff of Orange county appeared
and demanded the prisoner, whose real name was Henry Gibney, as a
fugitive from justice? He stated that the prisoner was to have been
tried for grand larceny, and was lodged in the House of Detention at
Newburgh, on Thursday, under care of two persons—that in the course of
the night he eluded the vigilance of his keepers, escaped from
confinement, and crossed the river on the ice, and had got down as far
as Peekskill where he says he attempted to get on top of the stage
that he might get into New York as soon as possible.
By order of the judges the prisoner was delivered up to the sheriff of
Orange County, to be recognized there for his trial for the offence with
which he was originally charged, at the next general session of the
Supreme Court. But before the time came round he had, as on most former
occasions, contrived to make his escape, and directed his course towards
Upper Canada.
Of the particular manner of his escape, and his adventures on his way
through to Canada we can state nothing with certainty; but like all his
previous movements, we may hazard the conjecture that they were such as
would do the usual honor to his wretched profession. Yet, with all his
tact, he could not always escape the hands of justice; and hence his
course is not unfrequently interrupted, and his progress impeded by the
misfortunes of the prison. It is owing to this circumstance that we are
enabled to keep pace with him in Upper Canada, where we find him
confined in the gaol of Toronto under the charge of burglary.
For this information the writer is indebted to his brother, Mr. Augustus
Bates, residing in Upper Canada. From his letter, dated 4th August,
1835, we make the following extract, which will point out the
circumstances which have guided us in endeavoring to follow up the
history of the Mysterious Stranger to the present time:
DEAR BROTHER—I now sit down to acknowledge the receipt of a number of
your letters, especially your last by Mr. Samuel Nichols, in which you
mentioned that you were writing a new edition of ‘More Smith.’ I have
to request that you will suspend the publication until you hear from
me again. There is a man now confined in Toronto gaol who bears the
description of More Smith, and is supposed to be the same. Many things
are told of him which no other person could perform. I will not
attempt to repeat them, as I cannot vouch for their truth. From
current reports I was induced to write to the sheriff, who had him in
charge, requesting him to give me a correct account of him. I have not
heard from the sheriff since I wrote; perhaps he is waiting to see in
what manner he is to be disposed of. Report says the man is condemned
to be executed for shop-breaking—he wishes the sheriff to do his duty;
that he had much rather be hanged than sent to the penitentiary. Many
are the curious stories told of him, which, as I said before, I will
not vouch for. Should the sheriff write to me, his information may be
relied on.
Several communications from Upper Canada have reached us between the
date of the letter from which the above extract is made and the present
time, but none of them contained the desired information as to the
particular fate of the prisoner, and the manner in which he was disposed
of, until the 8th of September last, 1836.
By a letter from Mr. Augustus Bates, bearing this date, it would appear
that the prisoner had not been executed, but had been sentenced to one
year’s confinement in the penitentiary. We make the following extract:
“I give you all the information I can obtain respecting the prisoner
enquired after. The gaoler, who is also the deputy sheriff, that had
him in charge, says he could learn nothing from him; said he called
his name Smith, that he was fifty-five years old, but denies that he
was ever in Kingston, New Brunswick. The jailer had one of your books
and showed it to him, but he denied any knowledge of it, and would not
give any satisfaction to the enquiries he made of him. The sheriff
says he believes the person to be the same mysterious stranger; that
he was condemned and sentenced to the penitentiary for one year. His
crime was burglary.”
It would have afforded the writer of these Memoirs great satisfaction,
and, no doubt, an equal satisfaction to the reader, had it been in his
power to have paid a visit to Upper Canada that he might be able to
state from his own certain and personal knowledge of the prisoner at
Toronto, that he was indeed the self-same noted individual that was in
his custody twenty-two years ago, and whom he had the gratification of
seeing and recognizing subsequently at the Simsbury Mines, where he
played off his affected fits with such art and consequent advantage.
But although it is not in the writer’s power to close up his Memoir with
so important and valuable a discovery—yet, keeping in view the
characteristic features of the man—his professed ignorance of Kingston
in New Brunswick—his denial of ever having seen the first edition of the
Memoirs, and the care which he took to keep himself enveloped in
mystery, by utterly declining to give any satisfactory information
concerning himself; all these circumstances united, form a combination
of features so marked as to carry conviction to the mind of the reader
who has traced him through this narrative, that he is no other than the
same mysterious Henry More Smith.
There is another feature in the prisoner at Toronto that seems strangely
corroborative of what we are desirous properly to establish, that is his
age. He acknowledges to be fifty-five years of age, and although this
would make him somewhat older than his real age, yet it fixes this
point—that the prisoner at Toronto is well advanced in years, and so
must the subject of our Memoirs be also.
From information which we have obtained it seems that he has undergone
his trial, and was committed to the penitentiary for a year’s
confinement. Whether he found any means of effecting an exemption from
labor in the penitentiary and then reconciling himself to his
confinement, or whether he accomplished one of his ingenious departures,
we are unable to determine. One thing however, is highly probable—that
he is again going up and down in the earth in the practice of his
hoary-headed villainy, except Power from on High has directed the arrow
of conviction to heart; for no inferior impulse would be capable of
giving a new direction to the life and actions of a man whose habits of
iniquity have been ripened into maturity and obtained an immovable
ascendancy by the practice of so many successive years.
It must be acknowledged that there is an unprecedented degree of
cleverness in all his adventures, which casts a kind of illusive and
momentary covering over the real character of his actions, and would
seem to engage an interest in his favor, (and this is an error to which
the human mind seems remarkable pre-disposed when vice presents itself
before us in all its cleverness), yet who can read his miserable career
without feeling pained at the melancholy picture of depravity it
presents? Who would have supposed that after his condemnation and
sentence at Kingston, and his life, by an act of human mercy, given into
his hands again, he would not have hastened to his sorrowing little
wife, and with tears of compunction, mingled with those of joy, cast
himself upon her neck and resolved by a course of future rectitude and
honesty, to make her as happy as his previous disgraceful and sinful
career had made her miserable.
But ah! no. His release was followed by no such effects. Rendered
unsusceptible for every natural and tender impression, and yet under the
full dominion of the god of this world, he abandoned the intimate of his
bosom, and set out single handed in the fresh pursuit of crime.
There is, however, one redeeming feature which stands out among the
general deformities of his character. In all the adventures which the
history of his course presents to our view, we are not called upon to
witness any acts of violence and blood; and it is perhaps owing to the
absence of this repulsive trait of character that we do not behold him
in a more relentless light.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_Three Attractive Booklets_
BY JAMES HANNAY
Ballads of Acadia
These ballads deal with important
historical occurrences during the
occupation of Acadia by the French.
PRICE, 35 CENTS
The Heroine of Acadia
Being the Story of Lady La Tour and her
heroic defence of her husband’s fort at
the mouth of the St. John. Handsomely
printed in two colors.
PRICE, 25 CENTS
The Maiden’s Sacrifice
A poem illuminating the Indian Legend of
the Malicite Maiden who piloted the
Mohawks over Grand Falls and saved her
tribe from extermination at the
sacrifice of her own life.
PRICE, 15 CENTS
_For Sale Everywhere_
JOHN A. BOWES, Publisher
19 Canterbury Street, St. John, N. B.
AN HISTORICAL WORK OF UNUSUAL IMPORTANCE
_The History of New Brunswick_
BY
JAMES HANNAY, D.C.L., F.R.S.C.
AUTHOR OF
“The History of Acadia,” “History of the
War of 1812,” “Life and Times of Sir
Leonard Tilley,” “Lives of Sir Leonard
Tilley and Hon. L. A. Wilmot,” “The
Story of the Queen’s Rangers,” “New
Brunswick and Its Resources,” “Ballads
of Acadia.”
_Price for the Set, $5.00_
TWO VOLUMES
HANDSOMELY BOUND IN BUCKRAM
JOHN A. BOWES, Publisher
19 Canterbury Street, St. John, N. B.
_The Beauties of the River St. John_
are faithfully portrayed in Rev. Dr.
RAYMOND’S new work ❦ ❦
THE RIVER ST. JOHN
¶DR. RAYMOND describes the many and
varied beauties of the River from its
source to its mouth; tells the Indian
Legends concerning it and recites the
Romantic History of the French
Period—its comedies and tragedies. ¶The
Expulsion of the French and the
Struggles of the Early English Settlers
are dealt with down to the Coming of the
Loyalists.
_Price, $2.50_
ADDRESS THE PUBLISHER:
JOHN A. BOWES
19 Canterbury Street, St. John, N. B.
_Paper Boxes_
Acadia Box Company
MANUFACTURERS OF
PAPER BOXES
OF EVERY DESCRIPTION
FOR EVERY PURPOSE
¶Thoroughly equipped with the latest
machinery for the economical production
of _Stiff and Folding Boxes_. ¶Estimates
cheerfully furnished for all kinds of
work. _Good work guaranteed._
JOHN A. BOWES, Manager
19 Canterbury Street, St. John, N. B.
=The Strathmore Press=
JOHN A. BOWES, MANAGER
_Printers of_ ...
Books
Booklets
Pamphlets and
Advertising Matter of all kinds
_We Can Do Your Printing_
Commercial and Society Stationery
Billheads Noteheads Letterheads
Loose Leaf Ledger Sheets
_Good Work Always_ _Prices Right_
19 CANTERBURY STREET
SAINT JOHN, N. B.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.