New  Material on Spring Heeled Jack

 

I have discovered new material on that forgotten Victorian Bogyman Spring Heeled Jack This is from a new source of 19th Century Newspaper clips etc.

 

Jacks story starts in 1837 with attacks on Barnes Common, and a letter sent to The Lord Mayor of London about attacks supposedly motivated by a bet. These was about the Peckham Ghost or Suburban Ghost, but was quickly named by some one unknown “Spring Heeled Jack” With this name like “ Jack The Ripper” he stuck in Britain’s memory for nearly a century.

There were the attacks on Lucy Scales and Jane Alsop. Already the copycats started.

 

The Examiner March 25th 1838

 

 

Jack turns up at the coast Rose Hill in Sussex The Times April 14 as a bear?

 

 

. The Times, Apr 14, 1838; pg. 7; Issue 16703; col D

“Spring-heeled Jack” has, it seems, found his way to the Sussex coast.

Category: News

Full Text: Copyright 1838.The Times

“Spring Heeled Jack” has, it seems, found his way to the Sussex coast. On Friday evening, between 9 and 10 o’clock, he appeared, as we are informed, to a gardener near Rose-Hill “in the shape of a bear or some other four- footed animal” and having first attracted attention by a growl, then mounted the garden wall, covered as it was with broken glass, and ran along it upon all-fours to the great terror and consternation of the gardener who began to think it time to escape. He was accordingly about to leave the garden, when Spring Heeled Jack leaped from the wall, and chased him for some time; the dog was called, but slunk away, apparently as much terrified as his master. Having amused himself for some time with the trembling gardener, Spring-Heeled Jack scaled the wall, and made his exit. The fellow may probably amuse himself in this way once to often.

 

Then spread as far as Whiby were there was an incident with claws and a similar  disguise.

 

The Leeds Mercury May 19

 

In fact it spread to all over the county

 

Bristol Mercury June 2nd

 

1840

 

Several references to a racehorse named Spring Heeled Jack this year..

The Bristol Mercury February 13th how ever has a report of an attack involving the cutting a girl’s hair, in Bristol.

 

 

The Examiner April 11th reports another attack in London this time

 

 

 

 

The Era the same day gives the story in more detail

 

 

The Bristol Mercury August 7th Girl in Bristol attack turns to crime.

 

 

Freemans Journal & Daily Commercial Advertiser October 26th. Story of Jack playing with fire.

 



1845

The next mention was in 1845 Local Man as Spring Heeled Jack.

Lloyds Weekly London Newspaper February 9th

 

 

1

 

1847

 

During 1847 the known case of Captain Finch Case was the main news.

 

1849

 

Only small story of new incidents, Manchester Times May 18

 

 

1853

 

Local villain with the nick name of spring heeled jack

 

 

 

1862

 

Trewmans Exeter Flying Post May 14th

Mention of spring heeled jack during political speech

 

 

 

1863

 

During this year Spring Heeled Jack play running, and a Horse called Spring Heeled Jack racing.

 

An article on the sources of human hair for wigs mentions earlier attacks were hair was taken

 

Leeds Mercury Sept 26

 

 

1868

 

The first mention of the Marquis of Waterford as possibly Spring Heeled Jack

(after his death)

Manchester Times August 1st

 

 

A second play comes out, advertised many times. Also criticism of Penny Dreadfuls including SHJ undermining morals in young boys, and that they should read better stories.

 

1872

 

Jack moves to Scotland.

Glasgow Herald Feb 5th

 

 

Glasgow Herald 15 Feb

 

 

There is a mention in Music Hall Report and a Hare named after SHJ in a hare hunt.

 

1977

This is a very important year

 

The Illustrated Police News Nov. 3rd 1877 Illustration of Jack on Newport Arch.

 

 

This is the year of the Aldershot incidents.

 

 

Surrey and Hants News & Guildford Times March 17th 1877, section Aldershot Gazette

 

Surrey and Hants News & Guildford Times March 24th 1877, section Aldershot Gazette,

 

Our Camp Letter

It was rumoured during the early part of the week that “Springheel Jack” or the gentleman who has been personating a ghost for some time, had been captured by one of the 3rd Battalion 60th Rifles. On making enquiries at the North Camp on Tuesday, I learnt that the report was groundless: but that it originated from a capture made by an old soldier (Private Harvey, 1st battalion 19th Regiment), who was on sentry near the fire screens, a few nights previously. His predecessor on the post was somewhat frightened b by what seemed to him an unearthly noise, and the rattling of the screens. In reply to Harvey’s challenge a drunken man replied “Spring Heeled Jack.” He ineffectually tried to run away. He turned out to be one of the Royal Canadian Regiment, who was doing a little amateur ghost rehearsal on his own account; and

Notwithstanding that he was fortified with a sufficient spirits to represent a ghostly character, he did ti so badly and so unprofitably that he was made to mulet  in the sum of 7s 6d., in addition to confinement in cells for 96 hours.  This sentence carries with it hair cropping.

The veritable “Springheel  Jack” has not shown himself since the night he was fired at by some sentries; and it is to be hoped that he will not repeat his very silly capers; for he has already occasioned a deal of additional duty on men who have not deserved it. I may add that it would be an unsoldierly and unwise act for a soldier to expend any of his ammunition on the foolish impersonator of a mythical ghost.

 

1878

The story now moves to Colchester

Reynolds Newspaper Nov 10th under Scraps from Comic Journals

 

 

 

Jack captured

 

Ispwich Journal Dec 21st      

 

 

Another report on the capture from Lloyds Weekly Newspaper Dec 29, this report also appeared in Surrey and Hants News & Guildford Times 14th December 1878, section Aldershot Gazette Our Camp Letter, Leeds Mercury Dec 27th

 

Judge Advocate General's Office: general courts martial charge sheets, confirmed at home.1977-1880,currently in the National Archives, contains no mention of this General Court Martial.

 

1880

 

Advert for play Spring Heeled Jack Terror of London (with book reference)

 

 

1881

 

Article in The Newcastle Courant May 13th  mentions Jack in London

 

 

1884

Ghost in Richmond from The Northern Echo August 1st

 

 

1885

 

The Bristol Mercury Jan 24th

 

 

The Ipswich Journal March 14th

mentions Grove Lane Ipswich once the haunt of a Spring heeled Jack

 

Birmingham Daily Post January 12th

 

 

1890

Many mentions and criticisms of Spring Heeled Jack in cheap literature. Plus a jumping show with its own Spring Heeled Jack

 

1891

 

Report of an incident in Guernsey

 

 

 

Liverpool Mercury Oct 31st. Political slip of the tongue

 

 

 

 

The Northern Echo December 7th

 

Another criminal calling himself Spring Heeled Jack

 

1897

 

Telling the story of Jack hero robber?

 

 

 

To the end of the 19th Century, his name turns up everywhere.

From Lore of the Land by Westwood & Simpson

Spring Heeled Jack

Spring-Heeled Jack, a figure in the popular imagination of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, is characterized by his ability to leap over high walls or across wide spaces, supposedly because of compressed springs in his boots.

Rumours about this figure (as yet nameless) swept through London and surrounding villages in the autumn and winter of 1837—8. On 8 January 1838, someone in Peckham anonymously warned the Lord Mayor of London that men of high rank had laid a bet with ‘a mischievous and foolhardy companion’, challenging him:

to visit many of the villages near London in three different disguises — a ghost, a bear; and a devil; and, moreover enter a gentleman’s gardens for the purpose of alarming  the inmates of the house. The wager has, however, been accepted, and the unmanly villain has succeeded in depriving seven ladies of their senses

The affair has now been going on for some time, and, strange to say, the papers are silent on the subject. The writer has reason to believe that they have the whole history their finger ends, but, through interested motives, are induced to remain silent.

The Times, 9 January 1838

According to the Morning Chronicle and the Morning Herald, the rumours had, begun in Barnes the previous September; some forty villages and suburbs had been gripped by panic. The attacker was generally described as ‘an unearthly warrior brass or steel armour, ‘with spring shoes and large claw gloves’, but occasionally white bear. Journalists tried to find witnesses, but failed:

A reporter visited many of the places above mentioned, where he found that, although the stories were in everyone’s mouth, no person who had actually seen the ghost could be found. He was directed to many persons who were named as having been injured by this alleged ghost, but, on his speaking to them, they immediately denied all knowledge of it, but directed him to other persons whom they had heard had been ill-treated, but with them met with no better success; and the police declare that, although they have made very enquiry into the matter, they cannot find one individual hardy enough to assert a personal  knowledge on the subject.

Morning Herald, 10 January 1838

As further complaints poured in, vigilantes and police patrols were set up and rewards offered, but nobody was caught. Journalists christened the villain ‘Spring Heeled Jack’; they viewed him as a human prankster, but many people described him as a demon. The fullest picture was given by a girl called Jane Alsop, who on 20th February opened the door of her home in Bearbinder Lane, Bow, to a man claiming be a police officer. He asked her for a candle, then vomited blue and white flames and attacked her, tearing at her dress and hair with what felt like metallic claws. She told Lambeth magistrates that he was wearing a large helmet and a tight-fitting white costume like an oilskin; his eyes were like balls of fire. Two or three men were interrogated, but released without charge (The Times, 22 February, 2 and 3 March 1838). On 28 February, another young girl, Lucy Scales from Limehouse, was found in hysterics in the street, saying she had been pounced on by a tall, cloaked man who spurted blue flames at her (Morning Post, 7 March 1838). She had just been reading a press account of the attack on Jane Alsop. The London panic gradually died down, but others broke out in various towns over the next thirty or forty years, and were reported by various contributors to a correspondence in Notes and Queries in 1907. In Yarmouth in 1845, a delirious man wandering about in his nightshirt was mistaken for Spring-Heeled Jack and beaten up. In Peckham in 1872, there was alarm over a ghost leaping over walls and ditches, and vanishing with startling speed. In Sheffield in May 1873, rumours sprang up that a tall man in a sheet was scaring women for a bet; a mob searched the cemetery where he supposedly lurked, but found nobody, and clashed with the police. In 1877, at Aldershot barracks, two spectral figures ‘glowing with phosphorus’ and ‘making tremendous springs of ten or twelve yards at a time’ terrified the sentries. The last documented panics were at Liverpool in 1904 and in Bradford in 1926. Spring-Heeled Jack entered fiction. In the 1840s, he figured in two plays (by J. T. Haines and by W. G. Wills) and an anonymous weekly ‘penny dreadful’; in all three, he is an evil character. But another penny dreadful in the 1870s, probably written by George A. Sala, radically reshaped the legend. Sala’s Jack, like today’s Batman or Superman, uses his power to defeat the wicked; he is a nobleman by birth, though cheated of his inheritance. He wears a skin tight crimson suit, with bat’s wings, a lion’s mane, horns, talons, massive cloven hoofs, and a sulphurous breath; he is immensely strong, and moves in gigantic leaps, thanks to his boots with their hidden springs.

For about two months during the winter of 1803, the inhabitants of Hammersmith were much alarmed by reports of a malevolent ghost ‘stalking up and down the neighbourhood’. The affair led to a violent death, and was reported in the press and eventually resulted in a criminal trial. The trouble had reportedly begun when a woman who was pregnant fainted with terror when a very tall white figure arose from among the tombstones, pursued her, and grasped her in its arms; she was carried home in a state of shock, and died a few days later. Others described the phantom as wearing a calf-skin, or draped in white robes and having horns and glass eyes; on one occasion it had ambushed a wagon, causing the horses to bolt, to the great danger of the passengers. It was rumoured to be the ghost of a man who had slit his throat a year before.

There were some people, however, who rejected supernatural explanations; believing that some practical joker was at work, they lay in wait for him on several nights, but there were too many paths and alleys for him to be caught. One of these vigilantes, an excise officer called Francis Smith, went out armed on 3 January 1804 to keep watch in Black Lion Lane, where he saw a white figure coming towards him; as it did not answer his challenge, he shot it. Unfortunately, it was quite human — it was a brick layer named Thomas Millwood, who was no hoaxer but was simply wearing the white jacket, trousers and shoes which were the normal working dress of his trade. His mother-in-law later testified that it was not the first time he had been mistaken for the ‘ghost’, and that she had advised him to wear a dark greatcoat, for his own safety.

At Smith’s trial on 13 January 1804, the jury at first gave a verdict of manslaughter, but the judge pointed out that however much one must detest the callous trickster who was terrorizing the neighbourhood, this did not justify anyone in shooting a suspect; Smith must either be found guilty of murder, or acquitted entirely. He was therefore condemned to be hanged and dissected. However, the sentence was soon commuted to a year’s imprisonment.

Meanwhile, the real hoaxer had been caught, thanks to information given by a neighbour shocked by Millwood’s death. It turned out to be an old shoemaker called James Graham, who had been going about by night wrapped in a blanket ‘in order to be revenged on the impertinence of his apprentices, who had terrified his children by telling them stories of ghosts’.

There was a sequel twenty years later, as J. A. Brooks describes in his Ghosts of London. In 1824, local papers reported the appearance of a new Hammersmith Ghost, also dubbed the Hammersmith Monster, who, not content with scaring women in unlighted lanes, would jump on them and scratch their faces ‘as if with hooks’; he turned out to be a young farmer and hay-salesman from Harrow. He was ‘sent by the magistrates to the House of Correction to undergo a little wholesome discipline for his pranks’.

Nor was this the end; in 1832, another spectral figure was attacking women in lanes around Hammersmith and Acton. According to one report, he was ‘attired in a large white dress, with long nails or claws, by which he was enabled to scale walls or hedges for the purpose of making himself scarce’. Others said he was dressed in armour, and had wagered that he would strip the clothes from a certain number of women within a specified time, and needed only one more victim to win his bet.

These episodes, like the more famous case of SPRING HEELED JACK (p.480), show the interplay between popular tales of the supernatural and the deliberate pranks of copycat hoaxers. However, there are some who still claim that there is a true ghost which appears in the churchyard of St Paul’s, Hammersmith, once every fifty years at mid night when the moon is full. This was publicized in the West London Observer in July1955, causing such a crowd to gather that police cordoned off the churchyard. Nothing was seen at midnight (apart from ‘Teddy Boys in white shirts’), but the few people who, mindful of Summer Time, continued their vigil till I a.m. were rewarded with the sight of a figure draped in brilliant white gliding among the tombs

 

I have done research in Richmond’s Library covering the site of his first alleged attacks Barnes Common. The only thing they had was an old resident who thought he was a creature covered in lights.

 

There seems to be two screenplays in circulation and the start of a cartoon. So spring heeled jack who was mostly forgotten in the twentieth century, just lurking in the edge of the eye, may be a household name again.

 

 

Nigel Bundy