The next week he became more restless and vicious, and on Sunday, on going to the gaol with Mr. Rulofson, from Hampton, and Mr. Griffith, from Woodstock, found he had broken up part of his berth, and broken his chain from the handcuffs, leaving one link to the staple, the parted links concealed; tore up part of his bedding and stopped the funnel of the necessary. It appeared also that he had been at the grates; but how he got there was a mystery, for the chain by which his legs were bound, was unbroken, and the staple fast in the timber. We then raised the staple and again put on the chain to his handcuffs, fastening the staple in another place, more out of his reach. The next day I found he had again broken the chain from his handcuffs and torn a large portion of lathing and plastering from the middle wall. Finding this, I determined to confine him more closely than ever, and so put a chain from his feet round his neck, stapled to the floor, securing the handcuffs to the middle of the chain. He had already given such mysterious and astonishing proofs of his strength and invention, that I feared he would finally baffle all my ingenuity to prevent his escape. The twisting of the iron collar from his neck and drawing the staple from the timber, was a feat that filled every one with wonder. The collar was made of a flat bar of iron, an inch and a half wide, with the edges rounded. This he twisted as if it were a piece of leather, and broke it into two parts, which no man of common strength could have done with one end of the bar fastened in a smith’s vise. The broken collar was kept a long time and shown to many a wonderer. As might be expected, his wrists were frequently much swelled and very sore from his exertion to break and get loose from his irons; yet he appeared as insensible and as regardless of his situation as if he had in reality been a furious maniac.