[Illustration] CHAPTER X. 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.