I kept him nine days on bread and water, during which time he manifested no sign of hunger, more than when fed with four times his allowance, and tore off every particle of his clothing, leaving himself entirely naked. After this time, I allowed him other provisions, and his subsequent behavior was briefly stated in a letter to the Attorney General, and afterwards, published in the “Royal Gazette.” The following is a true copy of the letter, as it appeared in that paper, July 11th, 1815:
Copy of a letter from the High Sheriff of Kings County:
KINGSTON, June 26th, 1815—My Dear Sir—Having heard nothing from you since the late gaol delivery at Kings County, I beg leave to state to you some circumstances of the criminal, Henry More Smith, since his trial and sentence. After securing him with strong chains to his neck and legs, and with handcuffs, he continued beating the floor, hallooing day and night with little intermission, making different sounds; sometimes with jingling his chains, and sometimes without, apparently in different parts of the gaol, insomuch that the gaoler frequently sent for me, supposing he must be loose from his chains, which I conceived and frequently observed was impossible, being far beyond the power of human strength or invention, in his situation; but on the 24th of May, going into the gaol early in the morning, (after examining his chains at 2 o’clock the day before,) I found three links of his heaviest chains separated, and lying on the floor, being part of the chain without the staple. He continued in the same way until the 2nd of June, when we found the largest chain parted about the middle and tied with a string, which clearly proves that irons and chains are no security for him. I then put on a light chain, with which he has been ever since. I never discovered him at work at anything, but he frequently produced effigies or likenesses, very striking, representing his wife. He now produced an effigy of a man in perfect shape, with his features painted, and joints to all his limbs, and dressed him in clothes that he had made in good shape and fashion out of clothes he had torn off himself, (being now naked,) which was admired for its ingenuity. This he would put sometimes in one position and sometimes in another, and seemed to amuse himself with it, without taking the least notice of anything else; continuing in his old way hallooing, without any alteration, until the 13th, when the gaoler informed me that he refused to eat, and no doubt was sick. I went to see him every day—found he did not eat—all the bread and other provisions conveyed to him he gave to his effigy, strung on a string, and put in his hands. He lay perfectly still day and night, and took no notice of anything—would drink tea or milk, which I gave him twice a day for five days, he then refused to drink anything for two days, which made seven days that he ate nothing. In that time he began to speak—would ask questions, but would hold no conversation. But the most extraordinary, the most wonderful and mysterious of all, is that in this time he has prepared, undiscovered, and at once exhibited the most striking picture of genius, art, taste, and invention, that ever was, and I presume ever will be produced by any human being placed in his situation, in a dark room, chained and handcuffed, under sentence of death, without so much as a nail of any kind to work with but his hands, and naked. The exhibition is far beyond my power to describe. To give you some faint idea, permit me to say, that it consists of ten characters—men, women and children—all made and painted in the most expressive manner, with all the limbs and joints of the human frame—each performing different parts; their features, shape and form, all express their different offices and character, their dress is of different fashions, and suitable to the stations in which they are. To view them in their stations, they appear as perfect as though alive, with all the air and gaiety of actors on the stage. Smith sits in his bed by the side of the gaol, his exhibition begins about a foot from the floor, and compasses the whole space to the ceiling. The uppermost is a man whom he calls his tamborine player, or sometimes Dr. Blunt, standing with all the pride and appearance of a master musician; his left hand akimbo, his right hand on his tamborine, dressed in suitable uniform. Next him, below, is a lady genteely dressed, gracefully sitting in a handsome swing; at her left stands a man, neatly dressed, in the character of a servant, holding the side of the swing with his right, his left hand on his hip, in an easy posture, waiting the lady’s motion.