I don’t normally post stories related to the supernatural or
ghost tales or indeed anything of that ilk, and stick mainly to what I know
about which is local Liverpool history. But on this occasion I am diversifying
slightly as someone pointed out that this story really does belong on the
site. It is the, urban myth, legend,
folklore or whatever you would like to call the story of ‘Spring heeled Jack’.
He was by all accounts a menacing, elusive and quick-footed character and has
been a part of folklore from Victorian times. Due to his strange ability to
jump over high walls and buildings, he was given the name of Spring-heeled
Jack.
He became part of folklore in Liverpool and other parts of
England and Scotland and later even in the United States, scaring and suddenly
appearing and disappearing by quick high jumps and sometimes even simply
disappearing from sight.
The first reports started coming in, in 1837. Mary Stevens
was walking to Lavender Hill, where she was working as a servant, after visiting
her parents in Battersea. On her way through Clapham Common, a strange figure
leapt at her from a dark alley. After immobilising her with a tight grip of his
arms, he began to kiss her face, while ripping her clothes and touching her
flesh with his claws, which were, according to her deposition, "cold and
clammy as those of a corpse".. Many people heard the screams and rushed
out to help the frightened girl. A search party went looking for her attacker,
but failed to find any such person. Interestingly, the very next day the
strange intruder leapt in front of a passing carriage. The coachman lost
control of the reins and fell from the carriage and got seriously injured.
People, who saw the intruder, said that he jumped over a wall, which was nine feet
high and gave a high-pitched laugh. When the newspapers found out about the
incidents, the creature was given the name of Spring-heeled Jack.
By the end of the 19th century the reported sightings of
Spring-heeled Jack were moving towards the north west of England. Around 1888,
in Everton, north Liverpool, he allegedly appeared on the rooftop of Saint
Francis Xavier's Church in Salisbury Street. In 1904 there were reports of
appearances in nearby William Henry Street.
A report in the The Liverpool Citizen, 24th December, 1887
THE OLD ORIGINAL SPRING-HEELED JACK
Like the mystery which surrounds the identity of the
cowardly fool or fools who’s recent
escapades in this neighbourhood have caused so much
unenviable comment, it has never been satisfactory ascertained who carried out
the extraordinary series of freaks. The probability appears to be that a number
of young “bloods” worked together to produce the appearance we are going to
describe. In that case, of course, Spring-heeled Jack was not one but many
persons. However, as Jack was never caught in any of his performances, it is
not now likely that the mystery will ever be cleared up, or that we shall ever
know whether one, a dozen, or a score performed the part. Certain it is that
for some months Jack created the greatest terror in London and its
neighbourhood. Towards the close of 1837 Spring-heeled Jack made his appearance
at Barnes, in Surrey, close to London. On this occasion he was in the form of a
huge milk-white bull, and nearly frightened to death a number of people,
including many females. Soon after Jack appeared at East Sheen, this time in the
form of a white bear. A few days after it was reported that women were being
frightened to death and children torn to pieces by Jack at Richmond, in Surrey,
also, as our readers are aware, close to town. The neighbourhood of Richmond,
however, soon became too hot for Master Jack, as a very close search was
organised after him. But soon after we hear of him at Hampton, Ham and
Kingston; at the first place he was reported to have appeared in a suit of
shining brass armour, and having on his hands, apparently, claws. But being
closely pursued, he climbed Bushey Park walls and disappeared. We may remark that from Spring-heeled Jack
appearing in such a large number of different characters he must, if the
performance was confined to one person, have carried a pretty large wardrobe
about with him. Spring-heeled Jack is reported to have inflicted both great
terror and also many and severe bodily injuries on numerous persons at the Duke
of Northumberland’s seat, Sion Park; many wild stories, too, were told of his
performances at Twickenham, Teddington, and Hounslow. At eleven o’clock one
night, clad in burnished steel armour, and with his feet encased in red shoes,
he seized an unfortunate carpenter at Isleworth, and beat the poor man most
unmercifully. Next we hear of him at Uxbridge, and he continues his progress to
the Metropolis by way of Hanwell, Brentford and Ealing. At the latter place,
clad in bright steel armour, he nearly frightened an unhappy blacksmith out of
his senses by his sudden appearance – the unfortunate man was confined to his
bed for some time, so greatly had the shock acted on his nerves. At Ealing, too, Jack created the greatest
terror among the scholars of the numerous schools in the neighbourhood. Sometimes
Jack met more than this match; for instance, at Hammersmith avaliant
washerwoman, having been greatly terrified by the appearance of Jack in the
shape of an enormous baboon, with immensely large eyes and very large arms, at
first tried to escape from the monster, but finding escape hopeless, the brave
woman turned on Jack and attacked him, with such courage and skill, that he was
only too glad to beat a retreat. What a pity our recent visitor didn’t meet
with one or two valiant washerwomen of Hammersmith prowess and have his
rascally bones broken! Not even the
usually jealously-guarded territory of the royal palaces was free from Mr.
Jack’s incursions, for a number of children saw the monster dancing by
moonlight on Kensington Palace Green, and alternating that amusement by scaling
the walls of the palace forcing-houses. We may, of course, allow that there was
a certain amount of exaggeration in the popular account of these performances,
but still that something serious was going on was proved by the number of
letters, asking for protection, that kept pouring in that the Mansion House;
and in January 1838, a committee sat at the Mansion house to receive
subscriptions for, and deliberate on the best means of, capturing Jack. The not very handsome reward of ten pounds
was offered for the capture of the scoundrel or scoundrels who were causing all
this terror and commotion, but it entirely failed in its objective, for, as we
have said before, Jack was never captured, nor did the reward even have the
effect of causing him to cease his nocturnal performances. Not only in the
metropolis itself, but in the suburbs such fear and terror was excited that on
both banks of the Thames few females dared to venture out after dark. Three
ladies were crossing Blackheath about six o’clock when they were terrified by
the sudden appearance of a hideous monster. He emitted a lustre, as if rubbed
over with phosphorous or something of that sort, and he had tremendously large
ears, horns and tale, like those of a bullock.
The policeman appears to have been a brave man, for he at once boldly
advanced against the apparition, with the presumed intention of “running Jack
in;” but on the policeman’s advance Jack jumped clean over his head, and
disappeared on the heath. It is said that the springing machinery on his heels
was clearly visible to the spectators during this performance.
The character has been linked to Jack the Ripper in certain
respects, such as his name, his tendency to sexually assault young women and
the fact that some of the alleged incidents involving him took place in the
East End of London.
Spring heeled Jack was later rumoured to be James Maybrick
who was a Liverpool cotton merchant. After his death, his wife, Florence
Maybrick, was convicted of his murder by poisoning in a sensational trial. The
"Aigburth Poisoning" case was widely reported in the press on both
sides of the Atlantic. More than a century after his death, Maybrick was named
as a suspect in the notorious Jack the Ripper murders, a report even suggests
that the character may have even been a young ‘buck’ from the Cotton Exchange,
where James Maybrick worked, who was acting in the manner of the mythical demon
to win a bet. Whether the story is true or not, James would have certainly
heard the rumours at the ‘Change' and, as a gambling man, may have even had a
bet himself. If James Maybrick actually was Jack the Ripper, he could possibly
have constructed the title by amalgamating words taken from Spring-Heeled Jack
and the Ripper.
No one was ever caught and identified as Spring-heeled Jack;
combined with the extraordinary abilities attributed to him and the very long
period during which he was reportedly at large, this has led to all sorts of theories
of his nature and identity. While several researchers seek a rational
explanation for the events, other authors explore the more fantastic details of
the story to propose different kinds of paranormal speculation.
Links
By Robert F Edwards
