Ripperologist 132

No.
132 June 2013
The
Face of
Albert
Cadosch
COLIN MACDONALD
with unseen photographs
of the Hanbury Street
witness and his family
SIMON WOOD on One Lone Maniac Too Many

JOE CHETCUTI on Living in the Street Shadows
JAN BONDESON on the Mystery of Mr Cooke’s School of Anatomy
NINA AND HOWARD BROWN

CHRIS SCOTT’S PRESS TRAWL
VICTORIAN FICTION BY SABINE BARING-GOULD
THE CONCLUSION OF GLEN BLEDSOE’S THE TRUTH Ripperologist 118 January 2011 1
Quote for the month
“This is like putting Jack the Ripper in charge of a women’s shelter.”
Hillel Neuer, executive director of UN Watch comments on Iran assuming the presidency of the UN-sponsored
Conference on Disarmament between 27 May and 23 June.
Michael Higgins, National Post, Canada, 13 May 2013

news.nationalpost.com/2013/05/14/fo0514-rogue
Ripperologist 132
June 2013
EDITORIAL: THE DAUGHTERS OF SHILOH EXECUTIVE EDITOR
by Eduardo Zinna Adam Wood
CHARLES ALBERT CADOSCH AND HIS FAMILY EDITORS

by Colin Macdonald Gareth Williams
Eduardo Zinna
ONE LONE MANIAC TOO MANY PART 1
by Simon Wood EDITORS-AT-LARGE
Paul Begg
LIVING IN THE STREET SHADOWS Christopher T George
by Joe Chetcuti
COLUMNISTS
MYSTERY AT MR COOKE’S SCHOOL OF ANATOMY Howard Brown
by Jan Bondeson Mike Covell
Chris Scott
THE MEN WHO WOULD BE JACK The Gentle Author
by Howard and Nina Brown
ARTWORK
TREVOR MARRIOTT’S THE EVIL WITHIN Adam Wood
by Mark Ripper
CHRIS SCOTT’S PRESS TRAWL
SPITALFIELDS LIFE
by The Gentle Author
OBITUARY: JESS FRANCO
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civil liability and criminal prosecution. Ripperologist 118 January 2011 2
The Daughters
of Shiloh
EDITORIAL by EDUARDO ZINNA
One hundred years ago, two women died a violent death within a few days of each other. Apart
from their sex and the manner of their death, they had nothing in common.
The first of them to come into this world and the first to leave it was Enriqueta
Martí. She was born in 1868 in Sant Feliu de Llobregat, a small town in Catalonia.
Before she was 20 she left home to go into domestic service with a rich family in
Barcelona, but did not long remain in that position.
At the time Barcelona was reputed to be one of the most wicked cities in the
world. Its red-light district occupied a vast area near the harbour. Hundreds of
dance halls, taverns, cafés, brothels and seedy hotels catered to every need of
its transient population. In 1912 there were 10,000 prostitutes in Barcelona out
of a total population of 560,000. To them should be added an unrecorded number
of women who occasionally turned to prostitution to make ends meet. Under-
age and child prostitutes could be readily found in brothels or made available by
enterprising procurers. Many children were said to disappear from the streets of
the city, kidnapped and enslaved in brothels or sweatshops or sent abroad. It was
not unusual for destitute families to sell their children.
In her only extant photograph, Enriqueta Martí wears austere clothes and
her features are stern and forbidding. But perhaps in her youth she was not
devoid of charm. When she left service she became a prostitute, apparently
with great success. In 1895 she married a painter, but reportedly did not see the
need to change her ways. Her marriage dragged on for ten years, punctuated by
Enriqueta Martí
separations and reconciliations, until it finally collapsed. Little is known of her
life during the following years. Later, when she became notorious, the newspapers published many stories about her.
On 10 February 1912, five-year-old Teresita Guitart disappeared. She was only one of many children who went missing
in Barcelona every year, but somehow her disappearance touched a raw nerve. Public opinion, echoed and fuelled by
the press, demanded that the authorities make every effort to find her. One
week later, a little girl with sad eyes and cropped hair was seen peering out
of a tenement window. Suspecting that she might be Teresita, the police went
to investigate. Enriqueta Martí allowed them into her flat, where they found
two little girls. One of them was indeed Teresita. The other gave her name as
Angelina, but did not really know who she was. She had a sinister story to tell.
She said she had seen Enriqueta Martí kill a five-year-old boy called Pepito with
a knife on the kitchen table.
Teresita Guitart
with her family
Ripperologist 132 June 2013 1

Enriqueta Martí claimed that she had found Teresita lost and hungry in the streets a
couple of days earlier. She first said that Angelina was her daughter by her estranged
husband, but later changed her story. She explained that Angelina was in truth the
daughter of her sister-in-law, who had been told that her baby had died at birth. As for
Pepito, he had indeed lived at the flat, but she had sent him to the country for his health
weeks ago.
During their search of her flat, the police found jars containing blood, fat, hair, bone
marrow and powdered bones. Enriqueta Martí explained that she was a traditional healer
and used those ingredients to make potions, philtres, ointments and salves which were
highly sought after by people of consequence.
The police also found small bones, valuable furniture, old clothes, blood-stained
rags, a notebook with medicine formulas and, most intriguing of all, a list containing
the names of notable local figures. The authorities promptly announced that they were
not, as it was rumoured, the names of Enriqueta Martí’s rich clients, but the names of
charitable people who had been deceived by her requests for assistance.
Soon virtually everybody in Barcelona had something to say about Enriqueta Martí.
They said that she ran a prostitution ring offering the sexual services of children to
Teresita Guitart after her rescue select clients belonging to the moneyed classes. They said that by day she dressed in
the rags of a beggar and, usually in the company of a child, went to churches, convents,
shelters and old people’s homes asking for food and money. They said that she frequented the most impoverished
areas of the city looking for children she could lure away. They said that she murdered children and used their fat,
blood and bone marrow to make potions professing to heal all sorts of ailments. They said that by night she dressed in
elegant clothes and went to the fashionable places of Barcelona looking for rich customers for her various trades. The
newspapers lapped it all up and so did their readership.
While awaiting trial in prison, Enriqueta Martí tried to commit suicide by slashing her wrists with a wooden spoon. The
authorities placed her under close surveillance to prevent further attempts at suicide. Her trial was widely expected to
sort out the evidence, assess the charges and establish beyond any possible doubt whether she was indeed the monster
she was said to be. But it never took place.
Enriqueta Martí died in her cell in the early morning of 12 May 1913, one year and three months after her arrest. The
circumstances of her death are still unclear. The official version was that she had died from the cancer of the uterus
from which she had long suffered. But some claimed that she was poisoned to prevent her from revealing what she knew
about her clientele in court. Others said that her fellow prisoners beat her to death. She was buried surreptitiously in a
common grave at the Cementerio del Sudoeste in Montjuïc, a hill overlooking Barcelona.
Emily Wilding Davison was born on 11 October 1872 in London. She obtained
first-class honours in her final exams at Oxford, but at that time Oxford did not
grant degrees to women. She also obtained a first-class honours degree from
London University. In 1906, she joined the Women’s Social and Political Union
(WSPU), which held that confrontational tactics were needed to achieve women’s
suffrage. Three years later she gave up her teaching post to work full-time for the
movement.
In the course of her militant activities, which were often unauthorised by

the WSPU leadership, Emily Davison was arrested and imprisoned nine times for
various offences. They included setting fire to post boxes, disrupting meetings,
smashing windows and throwing stones wrapped in suffragette leaflets at the car
of David Lloyd George, then the Chancellor of the Exchequer. While serving a term
in Strangeways Prison, Manchester, in 1909, she went on hunger strike and resisted
force-feeding by blockading herself in her cell. The guards inserted a hose pipe
through the cell window and drenched her in icy water while workmen broke down
Emily Davison

the door. In 1912, she was incarcerated for six months at Holloway. While in prison, she threw herself repeatedly down
an iron staircase, apparently in the belief that the only way to achieve recognition for her cause was to become a
martyr. She was arrested one final time in November 1912 after assaulting a Baptist Minister she took for Lloyd George
with a dog whip. She was sentenced to ten days’ imprisonment.
On 4 June 1913, Emily Davison bought a return ticket to Epsom Downs ‘with no particular class of carriage guaranteed’
at a cost of 8s 6d. It was the day of the Derby Stakes, the most important horse race and social event of the year in
Britain. Thousands of spectators from all walks of life were present at the race track. King George and Queen Mary
occupied the Royal Box and the King had entered a thoroughbred named Anmer in the Derby. Emily Davison mixed with
the crowds, marking on her race card some of the runners for the first race. She carried two flags in the purple, white
and green colours of the suffragettes concealed under her jacket and a Votes for Women scarf wrapped round her waist.
When the Derby started at 3 pm, Emily Davison was leaning on the rails at Tattenham Corner, the last bend before
the final straight and the winning post. A group of horses swept by. As another group came round the corner, she slipped
under the rail and walked on to the track. The hand-cranked film cameras of Pathé News recorded the incident. She
can be seen standing calmly at the centre of the track as several horses run past her. As the King’s horse approaches
at full gallop, she steps towards it and throws up her hands. The horse hit her with full force and sent her tumbling
to the ground, blood rushing from her nose and mouth. She was taken to hospital with a fractured skull and internal
injuries. The jockey was thrown and suffered a broken rib, a bruised face and a mild concussion. The horse turned
a complete somersault but struggled back to its feet and resumed running. Emily Davison died in hospital on 8 June
without regaining consciousness.
The widespread theory that Emily Davison was not trying to kill herself but reaching up to attach her scarf to the
bridle of the King’s horse has recently received additional support
from the analysis of the enhanced newsreels. Yet the WSPU
founder, Emmeline Pankhurst, believed that she had given up her
life for the women’s cause. In her 1914 memoirs, My Own Story,
she wrote that Emily Davison ‘clung to her conviction that one
great tragedy, the deliberate throwing into the breach of a human
life, would put an end to the intolerable torture of women. And so
she threw herself at the King’s horse, in full view of the King and
Queen and a great multitude of their Majesties’ subjects, offering
up her life as a petition to the King, praying for the release of
suffering women throughout England and the world.’
The last Chapters of the Book of Judges tell us how some

men of the tribe of Benjamin committed an appalling outrage
against a Levite, how the tribe of Benjamin refused to deliver the
culprits for punishment and how the tribes of Israel raised a great
force and waged savage war against them until they had almost
exterminated them. But their elders could not countenance the
extinction of one of the tribes of Israel and set out to find wives
for the survivors. They remarked that there was a feast in Shiloh
and told the children of Benjamin: ‘Go and lie in wait in the
vineyards. And see, and, behold, if the daughters of Shiloh come
out to dance in dances, then come ye out of the vineyards, and
catch you every man his wife of the daughters of Shiloh, and go
to the land of Benjamin.’ The children of Benjamin did as they were told and caught women among those that danced
and took them for wives.
The old chronicler does not tell us what the daughters of Shiloh thought of the men who carried them away or
whether their new life was a happy one. Yet he wrote: ‘In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did that
which was right in his own eyes.’ Perhaps he spared a thought for the young women who had come out to dance.

Charles Albert Cadosch
and His Family
By COLIN MACDONALD
In an earlier article (Ripperologist 126) I explored what had happened to Albert Cadosch after he seemed to vanish
from the historical record following the census taken in April 1891. At that time he, his wife Alice and their surviving
children were living at 44 Stanwell Street, Colchester and Albert, having renounced carpentry, was making his living
as a ‘Foreign Fruit Dealer’. For the benefit of anyone who has not had sight of the earlier article there follows a brief
summary of the content.
*****
At some point in the two year period

between the 1891 census and April 1893
Albert Cadosch abandoned his wife and
children, left his home and business
and travelled nearly 300 miles north
to Newcastle-upon-Tyne where on
Wednesday 26 April 1893, at St Andrew’s
Roman Catholic Church, Worswick Street,
he entered into a bigamous marriage with
22-year-old Elizabeth Stobart. At that
time he was living at 224 Pilgrim Street
and listed his occupation as ‘Hawker’.
He also audaciously (and mendaciously)
described his marital status as ‘Bachelor’
and claimed to be 23 years of age, despite
actually being three months short of his St Andrew’s’ Catholic Church, Worswick Street, Newcastle-upon-Tyne
Courtesy Steve Ellwood
33rd birthday.
That this is the same Albert Cadosch is beyond any reasonable doubt because, like the witness at the Annie Chapman
inquest, his father’s name was “Paul Cadosch (deceased)” and occupation “Glass and China Merchant”. Albert Cadosch
died in a Newcastle infirmary on 13 March 1896, cause of death being “Mitral Regurgitation, Aortal Regurgitation, Dilated
Left Ventricle”; essentially a catastrophic failure of the valves of the heart. Albert and Elizabeth had one child, also
named Albert Cadosch, who survived his father by just a few months.
Since writing the original article I have speculated upon the likely reason for the choice of Newcastle as a destination.
It seems unlikely that Albert had already met Elizabeth, who appears to have spent her entire life up to that point in
and around the Newcastle area. It may be that the destination was, therefore, effectively chosen for him. In the latter
years of the 19th century the manufacture of silk in Colchester was in terminal decline and heavy industry was taking
over. As a consequence, there was a steady flow of colliery vessels bringing coal south along the east coast of England
from Newcastle. The trade was sufficiently profitable for the colliers to make the return journey without cargo, although
they would, on occasion, accommodate a few paying passengers if they were prepared to tolerate the living conditions.
It is pure conjecture on my part, but I suspect that their number may have included Charles Albert Cadosch.

A second development has been that I have had the great fortune to be contacted by two of Albert Cadosch’s great-
grandchildren, as well as another individual who, although not from the same branch of the family, has kindly provided
me with some historical background to the Cadosch family. Much of what follows is the product of their generosity.
The Cadosch family has its roots in Switzerland. They were originally members of the patrician Junker class. They
were then known as ‘de Cadusch’ and fulfilled a similar role to that of the English country squire, being landowners
and magistrates in the municipality of Vaz/Overvaz in the Grisons canton. I am told that they also earned money as
“war traders”, presumably a reference to what would now be termed the armaments industry. Sometime early in the
19th century Paul Fidel Cadosch, the paternal grandfather of Albert, relocated to Arras in France, where his son, Paul
Alexandre (Albert’s father) was born on 22 February 1834. Paul Fidel Cadosch made a living as a confectioner and there is
a record of an individual of that name (probably Paul himself) visiting London on 22 September 1842, aboard the steamer
Emerald. A later visit on 16 July 1852, again by a Paul Cadosch, aboard the City of Boulogne, is probably also Paul Fidel
because although the place of origin is shown as “Arras”, the visitor’s occupation is “Confiseur” (Confectioner).
There is then a gap in the records unearthed so far but, at some point, Paul Alexandre Cadosch moved to Paris where
on 7 June 1860 son Charles Albert Cadosch was born. At that time Paul Alexandre and the boy’s mother, Paul’s future
wife Marie Adeline Octavie Guillain, were living at 50 Rue de la Croix Nivert, Vaugirard, and on 23 August 1862, when
Paul and Marie married, the couple were living with Albert and his older sister Theodora at 20 Rue Mademoiselle. The
records document the fact that the two children were formally legitimised at the time of the marriage.
At some point between the marriage in August 1862 and the second quarter of 1867, Paul, Marie and the two small
children emigrated to London where, on 19 April 1867 at 174 St John Street Road, in the Goswell Street Sub-District
of Clerkenwell, Marie died of ‘Phthisis’. She was just 30 years of age. The death was registered by a Louis Chauereau
of 43 Northampton Road who had been present; if Paul was also there his presence is not recorded. Paul Cadosch
subsequently entered into a relationship with Elizabeth Southward, the woman who would one day become his second
wife, and thus Albert’s stepmother. Paul Cadosch is named as being the father of her daughter, Irma, who was born on
20 September 1868, at the family home at 2 Dorset Street, Spitalfields. On that occasion Elizabeth gave her surname as
‘Cadosch formerly Southward’, although she did not legally become Mrs Cadosch for a further three years. In my original
article I mistakenly referred to Marie’s death and Irma’s birth as having occurred in the same year, from which I drew a
conclusion of adultery by Paul which is not otherwise justified and which, with apologies, I now retract.
In the 1871 census, when the family is recorded as living at 66 Brushfield

Street, mention is made of an Esther Southward, aged 5, who is described as
being ‘sister’ to the head of the household, namely Paul. This child’s place of
birth is given as ‘America – New York’, which seems more than a little suspect
when her putative sister (assuming Elizabeth is meant) was the daughter of
a Lambeth ironmonger. Records indicate that there was, in fact, an Esther
Southward born in the right year, on Brick Lane, and a copy of that child’s
birth certificate reveals that the mother’s name was Elizabeth Southward.
The father’s details are left blank. I think it likely that Esther Southward was
in fact Elizabeth’s daughter, born out of wedlock, and that the New York birth
story was a fiction designed to conceal the circumstances. This 1871 census
entry is also the last public record of the presence, in the UK, of Albert’s sister
(or possibly half-sister) Theodora Adeline Eugenie Cadosch. I have, however,
found the record of a marriage in Paris, dated 11 February 1900, where the
mother of the bridegroom is a woman of exactly that name, so it seems likely
that she returned to France at some point in the 1870s.
Paul and Elizabeth Cadosch did marry, but not until 13 February 1872 when
both were living at Francis Court, Berkley Street, Clerkenwell. They had no
further children, although one branch of the family once held the belief that Brushfield Street 1912
the Albert Cadosch of history was born in 1867, and that it was this individual,
a half-brother, who died in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in 1896, the Paris-born Charles Albert having supposedly expired
sometime prior to 1872. My contact thinks it likely that when a relative obtained Albert’s death certificate, noting that
he had died in 1896 supposedly at the age of 28, the date of birth was calculated as 1867, and the discrepancy thus gave
rise to the story of a half-brother. I have looked into this, but there is no historical record of any such individual having

existed, nor of the supposed death of an older Albert. Had the story been
true, it would have meant that Albert’s marriage to Alice had occurred
when he was only 10 years of age! The record of this marriage, which took
place on 19 August 1877, clearly shows the bridegroom to be a 20 (actually
17) year-old Glass Dealer, Charles Albert Cadosch of 68, Outram Street,
the bride being 19-year-old Alice French of 16 Fleur-de-Lis Street. Albert
and Alice had eight children in total, six daughters and two sons. Of the
daughters, three died in childhood: the eldest, Isabella, aged 7, in London
and the other two, both named Gladys Annie, died as infants in Essex. The
second daughter, Ethel Sophia, married in 1910 in Essex. What became of
the remaining children will be explored later.
During the early part of their married life Albert and Alice lived at 54
Finnis Street, Bethnal Green where they both appear in the 1881 census,
and Albert in the 1883 Electoral Register. In 1885 the same Register places
them at 145 Waterloo Buildings, Bethnal Green but, by 21 February 1886
when their younger son Herbert was baptised, they were back on Finnis Albert Cadosch
Courtesy the Cadosch family
Street at No. 183, with Albert’s occupation being listed as ‘Porter’.
The events of 1888 which concern Charles Albert Cadosch will need no
repetition for readers of Ripperologist, except with reference to his two
visits to the yard of 27 Hanbury Street on the morning of 8 September,
which were, as he told the coroner, occasioned by his having been
“under an operation at the hospital”. Although I do not know its precise
nature, I have been authorised to say, on conditions of anonymity, that
the subsequent four generations of male descendants have all suffered
from the same, possibly hereditary, urological condition. I take this as
confirmation, beyond reasonable doubt, that Charles Albert Cadosch
suffered from the same urological affliction.
At the time of the Chapman murder Albert Cadosch was a married

man with four living children, all under seven years of age. Logic would
suggest that Alice and the children were also resident at the Hanbury
Street address, together with their paternal grandfather and his wife,
but I can find no record of any of
the Cadosch children ever attending
school in London. Alice’s father died
in the last quarter of 1889 in Essex,
so it may be that Alice (with the
children) left London some months
before Albert himself.
Following the move to Essex Alice

Alice Cadosch née French gave birth to three further children,
the two named Gladys Annie who
died as infants and Nellie Eliza, within a year of whose birth on 21 April 1892 Albert
had abandoned the family. It may even have been before Nellie’s birth that Albert,
left home as his youngest daughter never knew him or saw him. After his departure
Alice told the children that their father had returned to France. Clearly this was
untrue, but she had to tell them something and, in truth, she herself possibly had no
idea of where he had gone. What prompted the abandonment can only be guessed
at but we do get a glimpse of one possible reason, if only through a glass darkly. His
youngest daughter Nellie revealed In a letter to her son that when Alice was pregnant
with her (in late 1891 or early 1892), Albert had some kind of altercation with a
man on Colchester High Street and expressed a wish to return to France, something Alice with Nellie c1902

the heavily pregnant Alice was not willing to do. If the
altercation and the desire to move away are connected, it
must have been a dispute of some significance to provoke
such an extreme reaction. Another possibility could centre
on Albert’s relationship with Alice. Years later, when Alice
stayed with one of her children, the grandchildren described
her as being a ‘hellion’, an American term which, when
applied to a woman, suggests that she was in their eyes
a shrew or, at any rate, someone who was rather difficult
to live with. That doesn’t necessarily mean that she was
always so; she had been left to bring up five children on
her own in an age with no welfare assistance worthy of
the name, but it raises the possibility that Albert Cadosch
was hen-pecked. Then again, Alice may simply have been,
like my own grandmother, someone who didn’t stand any
nonsense from her grandchildren!
Alice lived out her days in the Colchester area. In the

1901 census she and the children were still on Stanwell
Street, but at No. 19. Alice herself was then a tailoress,
Hannah a dressmaker and the two boys, Fred (17) and
Herbert (15) were, respectively, a postman and an office Alice with her children c1894
boy. Ten years on and 52-year-old Alice is living at 183 Butt
Road with daughters Hannah (30) and Nellie (18), all three of them working from home as dressmakers. Alice, who had
previously described herself as married, here acknowledges widowhood, although whether or not this was with any
certain knowledge of her husband’s demise can only be guessed at. She died on 30 January 1926 in her home of gastric
enteritis and was buried four days later. Her death was registered by her daughter, Ethel Sophia Keyes, who was in
attendance when she died.
The two boys, Fred and Herbert, both enlisted in the army.
Both were dishonourably discharged and are said to have been
regarded as troublemakers. Herbert never re-enlisted, but Fred
did so. He was initially unsuccessful and was re-admitted only
after changing his surname. He then went on to serve for many
years and left with a pension. Towards the end of his military
service Fred was sent to India where he contracted what his
wife later termed “sandfly fever”, although I’m told that his
medical records refer to “sprue”. This is, according to the
Chamber’s Dictionary, “a tropical disease affecting mouth,
throat and digestion”. Whatever its exact nature, this illness
affected him so badly that he was invalided out and his health
never fully recovered. In 1923 he emigrated to Canada, arriving
in Quebec on 18 August, then crossing the US border into
Detroit, Michigan on 10 September. His Detroit border crossing
document states his occupation as “motor mechanic”, but his
Declaration of Passenger to Canada gives his object in making
the journey as to “assist in Canadian harvest”. As my contact
suggests, he probably had to declare something of the sort in
order to get into the country. He apparently never became a
Canadian citizen.
Fred was a smoker and a heavy drinker from his teenage years
onwards and the story goes that when Fred was out carousing
Frederick Cadosch before or during WWI with his pals, his wife Edith would send their dog to bark at the Herbert Cadosch before or during WWI
Courtesy the Cadosch family Courtesy the Cadosch family

bar-room door, so as to let him know that it was time to go home. He ultimately succumbed to oesophageal cancer.
Fred’s exact height is disputed, but is known to have been less than that of his nephew who was himself 5’ 8”. Certainly
the information provided to me suggests that some male members of the Cadosch family were quite short in stature, so
it is possible that Albert himself was not tall enough to see over the fence into the yard of 29 Hanbury Street.
I have been told little of Herbert’s later years. I cannot place him in the 1911 census records, so I surmise that he may
still have been serving with the military overseas. He did, however, marry and have a son. Herbert died on 10 December
1959 in Brighton, Sussex.
The youngest Cadosch child, Nellie Eliza, lived at home until,

at the age of 22, she emigrated to Canada where she married and
had children. Her husband’s father was wealthy and, because he
deemed his son to have married beneath him, effectively disowned
him, his new wife and their family. There is a newspaper report
which records an accident which befell Nellie as a small child. The
article describes her as having been ‘playing with matches’. Her
son, sadly recently deceased, recalled her as saying that she had
been attempting (at the age of 2!) to light an oil lamp, and had set
light to her nightdress. Her granddaughter recalls seeing the scars
on her chest which were the result of this incident. Nellie lived
to a great age and died as recently at 1986. Her descendants are
settled at various locations in the Northern California area of the
United States. Alice with Nellie and Hannah, pre 1914. Courtesy the Cadosch family
Nellie’s older sister, Hannah joined her in Canada in 1921. At

the age of 47 she met and married a widower nearly twenty years
older than herself, and with six grown-up children. She and her
new husband built their own home from planks of wood on an acre
of land. They had no indoor toilet, no plumbing and no electricity,
drawing water from a nearby well. Hannah’s husband collapsed
and died of a heart attack whilst hammering a nail into the floor
of their home. Hannah herself lived to an even greater age than
her sister and was still exchanging letters with family members in
the mid-1970s when she was 96 years of age. She died on 9 January
1978, the day after suffering a stroke.
So far as I am aware, none of Albert Cadosch’s living descendants

use the Cadosch surname. Alice with grandchildren John and Frances. Courtesy the Cadosch family
The photographs which accompany this article were generously supplied by Albert Cadosch’s great-granddaughter,
who has kindly allowed them to be reproduced. The photograph of Albert Cadosch himself - believed to be the only one
- was taken at the Parisian School of Photography on Fleet Street, probably around 1880. There is, of course, no other
image with which to compare it, but it has been preserved and passed down through the family for four generations as
being his likeness. There can be no absolute certainty because there is no-one alive who knew him and what he looked
like, but I see no reason to doubt its authenticity.
The owner of the photograph has worked for many years at a college that trains students to become dental assistants.
She is of the view that his photograph suggests, from the fact that his lower jaw seems to protrude slightly outwards,
that Albert Cadosch lacked his upper front teeth.
Colin Macdonald (born 1953) is a former Nottinghamshire police officer who completed 30 years of service and retired
in December 2004, in the rank of sergeant. He is also a serving Justice of the Peace, working in the Petty Sessional Area
of Loughborough, Melton, Belvoir and Rutland. He lives in the ‘Three Shires’ area of the Vale of Belvoir, in the English
County of Leicestershire, with his wife, Loz, and their two dogs, Barney and Fred. He has written articles for both Police
Review and The Plain Truth, and one of his stories was published in ‘Notes Taken At The Time’, a collection of true
stories from the beat. His interests include classic cars, cricket, football (‘soccer’ not grid-iron!), crossword puzzles and
reading. He dreams of one day owning a classic Jaguar, but has no Ripperologist
realistic prospect
132ofJune
actually
2013 doing so. 8
Albert Cadosch
One Lone Maniac
Too Many Part One
By SIMON D WOOD
‘O, hark! what mean those yells and cries?

His chain some furious madman breaks;
He comes—I see his glaring eyes...’
Matthew Gregory Lewis, The Maniac –
recorded onto a phonograph cylinder
by actor Henry Irving in September 1888
Star, 31 August 1888:
Such horrible work [the murder of Polly Nichols] could only be the deed of a maniac. The other murder,
in which the woman received 30 stabs, must also have been the work of a maniac. This murder occurred
on Bank Holiday. On the Bank Holiday preceding another woman was murdered in equally brutal but even
more barbarous fashion by being stabbed with a stick. She died without being able to tell anything of her
murderer. All this leads to the conclusion, that the police have now formed, that there is a maniac haunting
Whitechapel, and that the three woman were all victims of his murderous frenzy.
Star, 1 September:
The first murder [Emma Smith], which, strangely enough, did not rouse
much interest, was committed in Osborn Street. The woman in that case
was alive when discovered, but unconscious, and she died in the hospital
without recovering her senses, consequently she was unable to whisper
a word to put the police on the track of her fiendish assailant, and her
murder has remained a mystery... The fact that these three tragedies have
been committed within such a limited area, and are so strangely alike in
their details, is forcing on all minds the conviction that they are the work
of some cool, cunning man with a mania for murder.
Both Star reports contained blatant lies.
Emma Smith had survived long enough to tell George Haslip, house surgeon at
the London Hospital, that she had been attacked by a gang, one of whom was ‘a
youth of 19’, who proceeded to take all the money she had ‘and then committed
the outrage.’ A blunt instrument had ruptured her peritoneum and she later died
‘through peritonitis set up by the injuries.’1
Dr George Haslip
1 The Times, 9 April 1888

Chief Inspector John West wrote in an undated report:
Deceased could not describe the men who had ill-used her but said there were three of them...
The Star’s version of events was steering minds away from the subject of blackmailing gangs, just as the Echo had
done in reporting the murder of Martha Tabram:
For ferocity the two cases are somewhat analogous, and some of the Scotland Yard experts in tracing criminals
and fathoming crime incline to the opinion that one man is responsible for the two crimes.2
Had it been recalled that Emma Smith was the victim of gang
violence, Tabram and Nichols could not have been linked to her as
the second and third victims of the same lone perpetrator.
If the three murders were indeed linked, they were more likely
to have all been the work of a gang. The only other alternative
is that the murders were unconnected, which makes it odd that
someone was attempting to give them false context as part of a
series.
On 1 September 1888, the Evening News reported that the lone

madman theory was generally accepted ‘amongst the inhabitants
of the district, the female portion of which is greatly alarmed.’ Yet
the newspaper did not itself subscribe to the idea:
The more probable theory is that the murder has been

committed by one or more of a gang of men, who are in the
The attack of Emma Smith from the Illustrated Police News, October 1888
habit of frequenting the streets at late hours of the night and
levying blackmail on women.
For the next twelve days the Star was at the forefront in promoting a theory which engaged the public imagination.
On 1 September, it observed:
Have we a murderous maniac loose in East London? It looks as if we have. Nothing so appalling, so devilish,
so inhuman—or, rather, non-human—as the three Whitechapel crimes has ever happened outside the pages of
Poe or De Quincey.
The unravelled mystery of ‘The Whitechapel Murders’ would make a page of detective romance as ghastly
as ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’. The hellish violence and malignity of the crime which we described
yesterday resemble in almost every particular the two other deeds of darkness which preceded it...
There again was the blatant lie.
...Rational motive there appears to be none. The murderer must be a Man Monster, and when Sir Charles
[Warren] has done quarrelling with his detective service he will perhaps help the citizens of East London to
catch him.
The die was cast. A monster was on the loose. News spread fast.
New York Times, 1 September 1888:
London, Aug. 31.

The police have concluded that the same man did all three murders and that the most dangerous kind of a
lunatic is at large...
2 Echo, 10 August 1888

The next chapter in the story of the man-monster loose on the streets of the East
End was also written in the New York Times. On 4 September, its London correspondent,
Harold Frederic, picked up and expanded on the cues provided earlier by the Star:
London, Sept. 3.
Whitechapel has a murder mystery which transcends anything known in the annals
of the horrible. It is Poe’s ‘Murders of the Rue Morgue’ and ‘The Mystery of Marie
Roget’ rolled into one real story. It is nothing less than a midnight murderer,
whose step is noiseless, whose strike is deadly, and whose cunning is so great that
he leaves no trace whatever of his work and no clue to his identity. He has just
slaughtered his third victim, and all the women in Whitechapel are terrified, while
the stupidest detectives in the civilized world stand aghast and say they have no
clue...
Who could this mysterious murderer have been?
...This man is called ‘Leather Apron’ and nobody knows him by any other name.
He is in character half way between Dickens’s Quilp3 and Poe’s Baboon4. He has
Harold Frederic small, wicked black eyes and is half crazy. He is always hanging about the deep
shadows that fill the intricate network of the courts, passages, and alleyways in
Whitechapel. He does not walk, but always moves on a sharp, queer run and never makes any noise with his
feet...
The nickname Leather Apron first appeared in connection with the Whitechapel murders in the Sheffield and
Rotherham Independent, 1 September:
The women in a position similar to that of the deceased allege that there is a man who goes by the name of
the ‘Leather Apron’ who has more than once attacked unfortunate and defenceless women. His dodge is, it
is asserted, to get them into some house on the pretence of offering them money. He then takes what little
they have and ‘half kills’ them in addition...
In keeping with this ‘dodge’, the Morning Advertiser reported on the same day:
The police are of the opinion that the deceased was murdered in a house, and afterwards carried to the spot
where she was found...
Also on the same day, the Echo elaborated:
The theory is that the woman was murdered in a house and killed whilst undressed, her clothes being then
huddled on the body, which was afterwards conveyed out, to be deposited in the street. Though a ‘High Rip’
gang is suspected of the deed, most of the detectives who are investigating the case believe that it was the
work of a maniac.
Two days later, on 3 September, the Echo announced:
For some reason the police have abandoned the theory that the deceased was murdered in a house and
carried to the spot. They now believe she was killed at the place where she was discovered...
London’s first introduction to the mysterious Leather Apron was a fleeting mention in the Star on 4 September:
With regard to the man who goes by the soubriquet of ‘Leather Apron’, he has not, it is stated, been seen in
the neighbourhood much for the past few nights, but this may mean nothing, as the women street wanderers
declare that he is known as well in certain quarters of the West End as he is in Whitechapel.
3 ‘I’m a little hunchy villain and a monster,’ says Daniel Quilp in Charles Dickens’s The Old Curiosity Shop, 1841.
4 The Murders in the Rue Morgue, Edgar Allan Poe, 1841. The culprit was in fact not a baboon but an orang-utan.

On the same day, 4 September, The Times offered an insight into the official thinking on the murders:
Although the Whitechapel murders are without example, the police have also an unexampled [having no
precedent or parallel] number of data from which to draw their conclusions...
None of these data appears to have involved gang-related activity. A lone perpetrator remained the preferred
hypothesis.
The Times continued:
...The most salient point is the maniacal frenzy with which the victims were slaughtered, and unless we
accept, as a possible alternative, the theory that the assassin was actuated by revenge for some real or
supposed injury suffered by him at the hands of unfortunate women, we are thrown back upon the belief
that these murders were really committed by a madman...
By the following day any lingering suspicions about a gang of blackmailing thugs had evaporated.
Star, 5 September:
‘Leather Apron’ by himself is quite an unpleasant character. If, as many of the people suspect, he is the real
author of the three murders which, in everybody’s judgement, were done by the same person, he is a more
ghoulish and devilish brute than can be found in all the pages of shocking fiction...
The remarkably well-informed Star continued:
From all accounts he is five feet four or five inches in height and wears
a dark, close-fitting cap. He is thickset, and has an unusually thick neck. From all accounts he is
His hair is black, and closely clipped, his age being about 38 or 40. He five feet four or five inches in height
has a small, black moustache. The distinguishing feature of his costume and wears a dark, close-fitting cap.
is a leather apron, which he always wears, and from which he gets his
nickname...
He is thickset, and has an unusually
His expression is sinister, and seems to be full of terror for the women thick neck. His hair is black, and
who describe it. His eyes are small and glittering. His lips are usually closely clipped, his age being about
parted in a grin which is not only not reassuring, but excessively 38 or 40. He has a small, black
repellent...
moustache. The distinguishing
The Star next added its pièce de résistance: feature of his costume is a leather
His name nobody knows, but all are united in the belief that he is a Jew apron, which he always wears.
or of Jewish parentage, his face being of a marked Hebrew type.
Thus was Leather Apron endowed with a characteristic which made him the ideal suspect. Not only was he a violent,
ghoulish and devilish brute, half man and half monster; he was also a Jew - which played straight into the hands of every
stereotypical prejudice against the burgeoning Jewish population of the East End.
As the Star would later report:
...Leather Apron walks without making a noise, Leather Apron has piercing eyes and a strange smile, and
finally Leather Apron looks like a Jew. The last is brutal as well as foolish, and it has already had its effect
in a cry against Whitechapel Jews.5
The cry was loud and clear:
...a gang of youths marched down Hanbury Street shouting, ‘Down with the Jews!’ ‘It was a Jew who did it!’
‘No Englishman did it!6
5 Daily News, 10 September 1888.

6 Lloyd’s Weekly London Newspaper, 9 September 1888.

Meanwhile, on 5 September, the Echo was busily throwing a spanner into the works of the Star’s lurid story, claiming
that the newspaper had been well and truly hoaxed:
An American journalist, anxious to distinguish himself in his paper, sent another scribe hailing from the
other side of the Atlantic down into Whitechapel to interview the natives on the subject of the murder,
and get their ideas. They gave him them, which were to the effect that they believed the murder had been
committed by a ‘wild looking man, wearing a leather apron’, who had been seen about in Whitechapel lately,
and was believed to be an escaped lunatic.
Filled with this splendid idea, the young man made some ‘beautiful copy’, which his chief telegraphed off to
New York forthwith, only to learn, a very little while afterwards, that his assistant had been thoroughly well
hoaxed, and that the real murderer is, if not actually known to the police, believed to be within very easy
reach of a warrant—and quite sane.7
The source of the Echo story is unknown. It certainly was neither the Star nor the New York Times, for the next day
the Star had the last laugh. Leather Apron was real, and had slipped through the fingers of the police.
Star, 6 September:
The hunt for ‘Leather Apron’ began in earnest last evening. Constables 43 and 173, J Division, into whose
hands ‘Leather-Apron’ fell on Sunday afternoon, were detailed to accompany Detective Enright, of the J
Division, in a search through all the quarters where the crazy Jew was likely to be. They began at half-past
ten in Church Street, in Shoreditch, rumour having located the suspected man there. They went through
lodging-houses, into ‘pubs’, down side streets, threw their bull’s-eyes into every shadow, and searched the
quarter thoroughly, but without result...
...The clue furnished by the woman who denounced the man on Sunday is a very unfortunate one. Her offer
to prove by two women that ‘Leather Apron’ was seen walking with the murdered woman in Baker’s Row [to
the west of Bucks Row] at two o’clock last Friday morning [31 August], is the most direct bit of evidence that
yet has appeared...
Given all these contradictory press reports it must have been difficult for an 1888 newspaper reader to decide
whether Leather Apron was real or imaginary. Yet there were clues. For instance, a close-reader might have noticed that
Leather Apron owed much of his alleged physical appearance to press coverage of a play which had recently shocked
audiences at the Lyceum Theatre, Drury Lane.
The Times, 6 August 1888:
‘The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde’.

‘Mr. Hyde is a crouching, Quilp-like creature, a malignant Quasimodo, who hisses and snorts like a wild beast.’
The Times, display advertisement for The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, 8 August 1888:
Daily Chronicle: ‘The apish, sneering, malignant and crouching Hyde...’

Pall Mall Gazette: ‘...the abominable and apish Hyde.’
Star: ‘...the odious monster, with brutality in every line, and look, and gesture.’
Life appeared to be imitating art. Meanwhile, quite unknown to anyone outside the Metropolitan Police, Leather
Apron was becoming a person of interest.
He now also had a name.
In an official report dated 7 September, countersigned by Superintendent J Keating, Inspector Helson, J Division
(Bethnal Green), wrote:
The inquiry has revealed the fact that a man named Jack [sic] Pizer, alias Leather Apron, has, for some
considerable period been in the habit of ill-using prostitutes in this, and other parts of the Metropolis, and
careful search has been, and is continued to be made, to find this man in order that his movements may be
accounted for on the night in question, although at present there is no evidence against him.
7 An elaborate variant on this story written by the New York novelist and journalist Vance Thompson appeared in the August 1898
edition of Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine.

At 6.00am on Saturday, 8 September, the hideously mutilated body of Annie Chapman, a 47-year-old unfortunate,
was discovered in the back yard of 29 Hanbury Street. Also discovered under a water tap8 in the area was a leather
apron.
Evening News, 8 September 1888:
...One report has it that a leather apron and a long knife have been found near the place where the body lay,
belonging, it is said, to a man whose name is unknown, but who is surnamed ‘Leather Apron,’ and evidently
known in the district.
Here was a fortuitous clue as big as the Ritz. Yet, for unknown reasons, seven detectives and one Divisional Surgeon
neglected to record the apron’s presence in their various reports and testimonies.9
However, the Pall Mall Gazette, 8 September 1888, was having none of it, reasoning that the real murderer may have
been attempting to capitalize on the Leather Apron scare:
The fact that the police have been freely talking for a week past about a man nicknamed Leather Apron may
have led the criminal to leave a leather apron near his victim in order to mislead.10
On 9 September, the New York Sun published a story filed by its London correspondent, Arthur Brisbane:
The police are industriously looking for a certain individual, who is probably innocent. Since Friday’s murder,
one newspaper has been clamoring for the arrest of a so-called Leather Apron, who is minutely described,
but who is probably a half mythical character, if not altogether the product of some heated imagination.
Appended to the story was the description of Leather Apron published in the Star on 5 September.
Here it is worth mentioning a widespread consensus amongst present-day students of the Whitechapel murders that
the ‘new [tabloid] press’ of the late Victorian period—the Star in particular—was staffed by hacks with scant regard for
journalistic integrity who sexed-up this grisly series of episodes solely to increase circulation and could not be trusted
when it came to the facts of the matter.
In fact, the Star boasted a stellar line-up. George Bernard Shaw was its leader-writer at two guineas a week,
and many of its editorial staff—Ernest Parke, Robert Donald, Clement Shorter, Thomas Marlowe—went on to achieve
considerable reputations as newspaper editors.
The three American journalists mentioned in regard to the Leather Apron story were
similarly successful.
Harry Jackson Wells Dam, Ph.B., alleged creator of the Star’s Leather Apron, was a
playwright and accomplished journalist whose 1887 series of articles in the New York Times
on East Coast society watering holes had won him widespread acclaim. In 1890 he became
the New York Herald’s Paris correspondent.
Harold Frederic of the New York Times, described as ‘the best of English correspondents’11,
was also the author of ten novels including The Damnation of Theron Ware, widely
considered as a masterpiece of fin-de-siècle American fiction.
Arthur Brisbane became London correspondent of the New York Sun in 1886. He returned
to New York in 1889 to edit the Evening Sun and was soon ‘considered the best newspaper
writer in the country.’12 When he died in 1936 William Randolph Hearst said he had been
‘the greatest journalist of his day’ and Damon Runyon remarked with a sigh that ‘journalism
has lost its all-time No. 1 genius.’
Arthur Brisbane
8 US = faucet.
9 West, Abberline, Styles, Thick, Helson, Swanson, Chandler and Dr Bagster Phillips.
10 The leather apron proved to be the property of the son of Mrs Amelia Richardson, a widow who ran a packing-case business at
29 Hanbury Street.
11 Review of Reviews, 1891.
12 Current Literature, May 1890.
Whilst little hackery is to be found amongst their number, these journalists certainly knew how to sell news, which,
of course, is the business of a newspaper.
Meanwhile the manhunt for Leather Apron continued, with Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper publishing on Sunday, 9
September, a letter from a correspondent named ‘Eye-Witness’ detailing ‘an incident which [he] witnessed on Sunday
[2 September] between half-past four and a quarter-past five pm.’
As ‘Eye-Witness’ was about to turn into Albert Street, a woman rushed across the street by Cohen’s Sugar Refinery
screaming ‘There goes Leather Apron, the Whitechapel murderer,’ to a policeman standing on a nearby corner. Two
other constables arrived, and when the man was apprehended the woman again accused him of ‘being the man the
police were looking for—Leather Apron. This she repeated about 20 times without receiving a single denial from the
man.’
The woman also said that she knew two women who saw the man pacing up and down Baker’s Row with Polly Nichols
about two hours before the murder took place. The man sneered at her accusations, saying that he didn’t know what
she was talking about, after which, ‘to crown it all, the policemen then let the man go.’
Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper did not say when this letter was received, but on the day after the incident was first
alluded to in the Star the story was promoted via an advertisement in The Times.13
Lloyd’s continued:
At first the police attached little importance to the story of ‘Leather Apron’, but after the appearance of the
above letter the detectives showed their regret at the stupidity of the constable in failing to arrest him by
eagerly searching different lodging-houses and casual wards for this ‘Leather Apron’. A chase has now begun
in earnest. He was last seen outside the Leigh Hoy14 public-house in Spitalfields. In addition to being known
as ‘Leather Apron’ he is also known as the ‘Mad Snob’.15
The police description of him is:— Aged 30 years; height, 5ft. 3in.; complexion dark, sallow; hair and
moustache black; thick set; dressed in old and dirty clothing; and is of Jewish appearance...
This closely resembled the description of Leather Apron which had appeared in the Star.
Lloyd’s continued:
...The inquiries of our special representative led to the discovery that he is the son of a fairly well-to-do
Russian Jew, but he is discarded by the Jewish fraternities as one who is a disgrace to their tribe.
Interestingly, there had been no mention of the 2 September incident in Inspector Helson’s report of 7 September.
John Pizer, allegedly the mysterious Leather Apron, was arrested at his stepmother’s house on Monday 10 September.
A Press Association report published in the Freeman’s Journal and Daily Commercial Advertiser on 13 September quoted
him as saying:
On Monday morning Sergeant Thick came. I opened the door. He said I was wanted and I asked what for. He
replied, ‘You know what for; you will have to come with me.’ I said, ‘Very well; I will go with the greatest
pleasure.’ The officer said, You know you are ‘Leather Apron,’ or words to that effect. Up to that moment I
did not know I was called by that name.
Later the same day, ‘in the station yard’, a Star reporter spoke with the arresting officer, Sergeant William Thick.
Star, 11 September:
‘Leather Apron’ has not been into a lodging-house since the Sunday the woman denounced him in Whitechapel,
and the police were bamboozled into letting him go.
This appears to have been the incident reported in the Star and in the letter from ‘Eye-Witness’ published in Lloyd’s
Weekly London Newspaper.
13 The Times, 7 September. ‘Strange Story of a Ruffian called “Leather Apron”’. Lloyd’s News. 66 Columns. One penny.
14 A Leigh Hoy was a type of fishing smack.
15 In the late 18th Century a ‘snob’ was a cobbler, or shoe-maker.

A variation on the incident given by Pizer was reported in the Echo on 12 September:
On Sunday week last, while I was walking through Church Street, two women accosted me. I did not know
them. One of them accused me of committing the crime in Buck’s-row. The other, the elder of the two,
however, said, ‘You are not the man, are you?’ I said, ‘I know nothing about it.’ At that moment a stalwart
and strong-looking man came up. Addressing me, he exclaimed, ‘Mate, come and stand me half-a-pint.’ I,
however, refused, and walked away.
On the same day, Pizer’s brother Gabriel, who maintained that his brother John had never been known to him as
Leather Apron, gave yet another version:
[John Pizer] had related to him an incident which he says occurred in Spitalfields on Sunday week and which
seems to have contributed greatly to his alarm. Some women had pointed him out as ‘Leather Apron’, and
the attention of a policeman was called to him. The officer refused to take him in charge, and Piser [sic] was
pursued by a howling crowd that had collected, which seems to have frightened him considerably.
No policemen had been bamboozled in John Pizer’s version of the incident; nor had ‘Eye-Witness’ noticed the
‘howling crowd’ mentioned by Gabriel Pizer.
If, despite some alarming incongruities, all these accounts are essentially the same, they tally with the Star report
about Constables 43J and 173J, accompanied by Detective Enright, commencing a belated search for Leather Apron at
10.30 pm on Wednesday 5 September in Church Street, Shoreditch.
However, the three policemen were flashing their bull’s-eye lanterns in the wrong district. Pizer said he was accosted
in Church Street, which the police understood was a thoroughfare in Shoreditch. Yet this location is misleading.
Church Street, Spitalfields, disappeared in 1879, subsumed as the eastern section of

Hanbury Street. A sugar refinery had stood at No. 157 Church Street, on the corner of
Deal Street, which led north into Albert Street. Up until 1 August 1871 the refinery was
run by the partnership of Thomas Burns Dakin and James Bryant Jr. After the partnership
was dissolved,16 the refinery remained under the sole ownership of Thomas Burns Dakin,
whose name is recorded in the 1882, 1884 and 1888 Post Office Street Directories. A
search through available records has not turned up the name Cohen in connection with
the refinery.
That the alleged incident actually took place in Hanbury Street is lent added weight
by Lloyd’s report that Leather Apron ‘was last seen outside the Leigh Hoy public house in
Spitalfields.’ The Leigh Hoy was in Hanbury Street, at the corner of Queen Street, a few
doors east from Thomas Dakin’s sugar refinery.
On 10 September the Echo published a Press Association interview with Pizer’s

stepmother and sister-in-law:
...They further state that Pizer is unable to do much work on account of his ill-health, and that he is by no
means a strong person, as, some time ago, he was seriously injured in a vital part. About six weeks ago he
left a convalescent home, of which he had been an inmate on account of a carbuncle on his neck...
Echo, 11 September:
It is stated that the many absurd rumours about the man ‘Leather Apron’ have been enquired into and found
to be utterly void of truth. A high authority at Scotland Yard, asked what truth there is in the ensuing account
of the personage, said: ‘just as much as there is in the career of Leatherstocking; only I prefer Fenimore
Cooper’s literary style’...
16 London Gazette, 12 September 1871

The Echo continued with its account of the personage:
The man suspected - rightly or wrongly - of being him is a person of weak physique, and but a short time ago
underwent a very painful operation, when a large carbuncle was extracted from the back of his neck. Since
then, until within quite recently, he has been an inmate of a convalescent home, and at the present time his
physical [powers/prowess?] are less than those of any woman.
What chance did a newspaper reader have of getting at the truth? The Metropolitan Police was sending mixed signals.
J Division [Bethnal Green] was apparently searching for a man in whom Scotland Yard appeared to hold little store.
Meanwhile Pizer, who had been arrested as the mysterious Leather Apron, established his whereabouts at the times
of the murders of Polly Nichols and Annie Chapman17 and was released from custody the following evening at 9:30pm.
The police announced that they did not believe Leather Apron to be the guilty man. They also pointed out, somewhat
disingenuously, that it was the public and the newspapers who had accused him and not they.18
Leather Apron was supposed to have been responsible for four murders. Yet, during his public exoneration at Annie
Chapman’s inquest, Leather Apron suspect Pizer was asked only about his whereabouts at the time of the murders of
Polly Nichols and Annie Chapman. No mention was made of the earlier murders of Emma Smith and Martha Tabram, both
purportedly committed by the same ‘lone maniac’.
On 19 September, Inspector Frederick George Abberline wrote a report on the murders of Polly Nichols and Annie
Chapman.19
Regarding Leather Apron, he wrote:
In the course of our inquiries amongst the numerous women of the same class as the deceased it was
ascertained that a feeling of terror existed against a man known as Leather Apron who it appeared have [sic]
for a considerable time past been levying blackmail and ill-using them if his demands were not complied with
although there was no evidence to connect him with the murders. It was however thought desirable to find
him and interrogate him as to his movements on the night in question, and with that view searching inquiries
were made at all common lodging houses in various parts of the Metropolis, but through the publicity given
in the ‘Star’ and other newspapers the man was made acquainted with the fact that he was being sought for
and it was not until the 10 inst. that he was discovered when it was found that he had been concealed by his
relatives.
Thus, according to Abberline, the hunt for Leather Apron had been underway before the Star published the 5
September story which had made John Pizer go into hiding. In turn, the Star reported that the police had not begun their
hunt for Leather Apron ‘in earnest’ until that day—once, it can be assumed, Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper had apprised
them of the letter from ‘Eye Witness’.
Somebody was not telling the truth.
In his 1924 book, Some Piquant People, ex-Star journalist Lincoln Springfield reminisced about Leather Apron:
At all events, [Harry] Dam20 had arrived hastily and quietly from the States, had joined us on the Star, and
had, like the rest of us, been put upon the job of solving the mystery of the Whitechapel murders. But
Dam, a free-born American, was not, as were the rest of us, cowed by the English libel laws, and he created
a sensation by developing a theory of the authorship of these grisly crimes. They were, he proceeded to
demonstrate, the work of a miscreant known as ‘Leather Apron’, and so known in consequence of the attire
he wore at his everyday trade of tanning, or slipper-making, or whatever it was. Day after day Dam gave
the public all the thrills it wanted along these lines. But unfortunately there actually was in existence a
man known to the nobility and gentry of the Mile End Road as ‘Leather Apron’, and he was an honest, hard-
working fellow, as innocent of the series of Whitechapel murders, or any one of them, as you or I.
17 Chief Inspector Donald S Swanson, summary report, 19 October 1888

18 Star, 11 September 1888
19 MEPO 3/140, ff. 242 - 256
20 Harry Jackson Wells Dam, born in San Francisco, USA, 1856, died in Havana, Cuba, 1906.

T P O’Connor, a Member of Parliament who in 1888 was the editor of the Star, agreed. In his 1929
Memoirs of an Old Parliamentarian he wrote:
In the search for ‘Jack the Ripper’ there came into prominence a man of the East End who was
universally known as ‘Leather Apron’, and there were allusions to him in the Star which almost
pointed to him as the assassin. The poor man was quite innocent...
Both anecdotes ended with Pizer attempting to sue the Star for libel. This had been noted by the
press at the time, and various American newspapers had reported that Pizer was about to sue not
only the Star, but also the Daily Telegraph and an unnamed New York newspaper, most probably the
New York Times.
Pizer told the Press Association:
The Star has published a portrait intended to represent me, but it has no more resemblance to
me than it has to the man in the moon. I have been told that I shall be wanted at the inquest
this afternoon. I am quite ready to go and to make a full statement as to my whereabouts. I
shall see if I cannot legally proceed against those who have made statements about me.21 T P O’Connor
Lincoln Springfield had written that before any lawyers could get involved, Leather Apron was paid off with ‘£10 in
gold, and left behind him, in consideration thereof, a stamped receipt for the amount in full settlement of any claims
he might have against the paper in respect of the deplorable theory of the ingenious but misguided Harry Dam.’
T P O’Connor had a different recollection of the incident:
Leather Apron made a demand for a hundred pounds for his assent to abandon all legal proceedings. [Ernest]
Parke insisted on fifty pounds. When the man still dissented, Parke made a counter-proposition that he would
tell Leather Apron where to get another fifty pounds which would make up the hundred pounds he claimed.
Leather Apron assented; and Parke then revealed to him the fact that another paper had made insinuations
against him as direct as those of the Star, and that he could certainly get fifty pounds from them. The bargain
was made, and by this bit of information and by our gift of fifty pounds we were kept out of an action which
might have cost us thousands of pounds.
These accounts, although different in detail, tally in essence with a story which appeared in the Birmingham Daily
Post, 27 September:
A London correspondent telegraphs:— The widely circulated statement that ‘Leather Apron’ is suing the Star
and the Daily Telegraph for libel is incorrect. Pizer’s suit against the former journal has been compromised...
It next appeared that Pizer’s libel actions were even more wide-ranging.
The Birmingham Daily Post continued:
...and though he is promoting actions against several journals, including the Evening News, the Echo, and the
Weekly Dispatch, the [Daily] Telegraph is not one of them. The Pall Mall Gazette has also settled with Pizer,
whose misfortunes promise to turn out profitable.
A week later, the details of Pizer’s libel actions underwent a change.
Birmingham Daily Post, 2 October:
The man Piser [sic], better known as ‘Leather Apron’, who was arrested in connection with the fourth of
the Whitechapel murders, is determined to carry his case to the law court against the two London evening
papers which, he alleges, pointedly referred to him as being the murderer. The matter is in the hands of an
energetic solicitor, and damages, I learn, are fixed at £5,000.
Lincoln Springfield’s assertion that ‘Dam, a free-born American, was not, as were the rest of us, cowed by the English
libel laws’, thus allowing him to create ‘a sensation by developing a theory of the authorship of these grisly crimes’,
holds no water.

Article 8 of ‘The Law of Libel in its Relation to the Press’, together with the ‘Law of Libel Amendment Act 1888’,22
held the following people ‘liable for a libel in a newspaper or journal’:
The proprietor, the publisher, the editor, the printer, the author, and any person who utters, gives, sells, or
lends a copy of the newspaper or journal. Each or all of such persons may be proceeded against...
Harry Dam being an American citizen would have been no defence.
Here we need to examine briefly the legal grounds upon which John Pizer might have pursued a case of libel, for
neither the Star nor any other newspaper had uttered a libel by accusing him of being the man-monster Leather Apron.
Until the police arrested Pizer at his stepmother’s house on the morning of 10 September, his name had not been
mentioned in the press, let alone associated with the person of Leather Apron. It was the police alone who conflated
the man with the myth.
Libel was described in Parmiter v. Coupland [1840] as ‘a publication without justification or lawful excuse which is
calculated to injure the reputation of another by exposing him to hatred, contempt or ridicule.’ It was also held that to
constitute an offence a libel must be falsely and maliciously published.
Neither malice, once called animus injuriandi, nor falsity obtained in the reporting of John Pizer. Following his arrest
the press had simply detailed the facts of the police investigation.
Pizer was finally exonerated on 12 September, the second day of the Annie Chapman inquest. Earlier that same
day he had again denied to the press that he was known as Leather Apron. The Press Association reported him as not
acknowledging the name; nor to having recently worn a leather apron.23 An Echo reporter asked him: ‘Were you not
surprised when he [Sergeant Thick] said you were known as ‘Leather Apron’?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Pizer, sticking firmly to his
statement made the previous day. ‘I was not aware that I was known by that name. None of my neighbours have ever
called me by it.’
However, later that day at the inquest Pizer had an epiphany:
Coroner Wynne Baxter: ‘Are you known by the nickname of ‘Leather Apron’?’
John Pizer: ‘Yes, sir.’24
What or who persuaded Pizer to change his story can only be conjecture.
Libel requires a person to be uniquely recognizable and identifiable as the object of a libellous ‘publication’. If
nobody could positively identify John Pizer as Leather Apron there could be no libel. In order to pursue a case against
the Star or any other newspaper, John Pizer first had to prove that a slur upon Leather Apron was an incontrovertible slur
upon himself. What he needed was confirmation that he, and he alone, was known as Leather Apron.
Timothy Donovan, deputy lodging house keeper at 35 Dorset Street, where

Annie Chapman last stayed, claimed to know Leather Apron well. A while ago he
had ejected him from the lodging house ‘for offering violence to a woman who
was staying there.’ But Donovan, who was summoned on two separate days to the
inquest, was not asked to identify John Pizer, and he himself expressed surprise
that the police had not asked him to go to Leman Street police station to identify
the suspect, as he would have had no difficulty ‘in deciding whether [he was]
Leather Apron.’25
On 12 September, the Morning Advertiser reported:
Both Donovan and a man named West, a former watcher at the lodging-
house, say that when they last saw ‘Leather Apron’ he was wearing a kind
of deer-stalker hat, double-peaked. West describes him as a man not more
than 5ft. 4in. in height.
22 Hugh Fraser M.A., LL.M., Reeves & Turner, London 1889

24 Daily Telegraph, 13 September 1888
25 Morning Advertiser, 12 September 1888
Timothy Donovan and Annie Chapman
from the Illustrated Police News, 22 September 1888
But if Lincoln Springfield’s story is to be believed, an important question is how Timothy Donovan could have ejected
a journalistic invention from his lodging house, let alone later identified him.
However, the matter of establishing Leather Apron’s identity was in hand.
Annie Chapman inquest, Daily News, 13 September:
John Pizer: ‘Pardon me; I wish to vindicate my character to the world at large.’
Coroner Wynne Baxter: ‘Yes; you are called here partly to give you the opportunity of doing so.’
Coroner Wynne Baxter [having heard Pizer’s testimony]: ‘It is only fair to say that I believe the witness’s
statement is completely corroborated.’
John Pizer [bowing several times]: ‘Thank you, sir. I am quite satisfied, and I hope you are. Mr. [Sergeant]
Thicke [sic], that has my case in hand, has known me for upwards of eighteen years.’
The Coroner: ‘I don’t think you need to say any more.’
John Pizer: ‘Thank you, sir; so long as you believe that I have clean hands.’
With his innocence now established, incontrovertible evidence sworn on oath that John Pizer was alone known as
Leather Apron would be delivered by the next witness:
‘Detective-Sergeant Thicke [sic] deposed that on Monday morning he apprehended the last witness [Pizer] at
22 Mulberry Street.’
Coroner Wynne Baxter: ‘When people in the neighbourhood speak of ‘Leather Apron’, do they mean Pizer?’
Detective Sergeant Thicke: ‘They do, sir.’
On the same day, the Morning Advertiser gave a fuller account of Thick’s response to the Coroner’s question:
‘Knowing the rumours in circulation concerning ‘Leather Apron’, I arrested Piser at 22, Mulberry-street on
Monday morning. I have known him for many years under the nickname of ‘Leather Apron.’ When the people
in the neighbourhood speak of ‘Leather Apron’ they referred to Piser.’
Thus were Leather Apron and John Pizer joined as one and theoretically empowered to pursue a case for libel.
However, as has been shown, Pizer’s rumoured libel suits against various newspapers stood little chance of success in
court. If he had a case against anyone it could only have been the Metropolitan Police who, according to the story of
Lincoln Springfield, had falsely arrested him as the embodiment of a journalistic invention.
The Star immediately called Pizer’s arrest a ‘police blunder’, which of itself hardly constituted a libel:
The detectives searched with unusual diligence, but could find positively nothing against him. And this is
not surprising considering that he is not ‘Leather Apron,’ at least not the ‘Leather Apron’ who has been the
terror and blackmailer of the women of Whitechapel.26
Other newspapers were equally unhappy about Sergeant Thick’s identification of Pizer as Leather Apron.
The Penny Illustrated Press, 15 September, was blunt:
The conduct of the man who professed to identify Pizer has caused much indignation, it having kept several
experienced officers from prosecuting inquiries in other directions. His statement, clear enough at first,
utterly failed to stand the test even of ordinary questioning.
From this it would appear that the police considered Pizer’s identification and arrest an unnecessary and time-
wasting diversion.
Indeed, on the morning of Pizer’s arrest, Inspector Abberline had travelled to Gravesend, Kent, to bring back to
London 53-year-old William Henry Pigott, whom the local police had arrested and various newspapers reported as
‘answering the description of Leather Apron.’ But it was all to no avail. Nothing was found to connect him with the
murders and, following an examination by divisional surgeon Dr George Bagster Phillips, Pigott was pronounced insane
and removed to the infirmary, where he was treated for delirium tremens and later released.

Was Leather Apron a Journalistic Invention?
It is instructive to compare and contrast the mythical Leather Apron of the Star and the New York Times with the
reality of John Pizer. And we can dismiss as flummery all the De Quincey, Dickens, Poe and Jekyll & Hyde references.
The myth said Leather Apron was Jewish

John Pizer was Jewish.
The myth said Leather Apron was a slipper-maker.

John Pizer was a shoemaker, or boot-finisher.
The myth said Leather Apron was aged 38 to 40.

John Pizer was 38.
The myth said Leather Apron was five feet four or five inches in height and had a small, black moustache.
John Pizer was described as being of medium height, with florid complexion, and wearing a moustache with side
whiskers.
The myth said Leather Apron was as well known in the West End of London as he was in Whitechapel.
John Pizer had lived in a lodging house in Peter Street, Soho, in London’s West End.
Harry Dam had allegedly conjured Leather Apron’s personal details from his imagination. Yet six days later the police
arrested John Pizer, a man who in almost every basic respect fitted the profile of this mythical personage. This went far
beyond coincidence or serendipity.
Was Leather Apron Real?

John Pizer claimed Sergeant Thick had known him for ‘upwards of eighteen years’27
and Sergeant Thick testified under oath that the name Leather Apron referred to nobody
other than John Pizer.
Yet, even though John Pizer may have had a police record, it was not as Leather
Apron.28
Furthermore, the name Leather Apron had not been mentioned in connection with
the gang-related murder of Emma Smith or with the multiple-stabbing of Martha
Tabram, for whose murder soldiers at the Tower of London and Wellington Barracks
were put into identity parades.
John Pizer told the Coroner he had gone to 22 Mulberry Street ‘shortly before eleven
pm’ on Thursday 6 September, not leaving the house until he was arrested ‘at nine am’
on the morning of Monday 10 September.
Inspector Abberline had reported that through publicity given in the Star and other
newspapers Leather Apron learned he was being sought and ‘it was not until the 10
inst. that he [Pizer] was discovered when it was found that he had been concealed by
his relatives’.
Sergeant William Thick
Sergeant Thick - who in the following year was himself accused of being Jack the
Ripper29 - had allegedly known John Pizer for eighteen years. It is therefore odd that he
did not think to call at the house of Pizer’s stepmother [who had been recorded at the Mulberry Street address since the
1871 Census], until 10 September 1888, two days after Annie Chapman’s murder.
27 John Pizer, born in 1850. Sergeant Thick first joined H Division 1868. Transferred to B Division 4 January 1872. Returned to H
Division 18 September 1872. Transferred to P Division 8 July 1878. Returned to H Division 9 May 1886.
28 John Pozer, July 1887, stabbing with a shoemaker’s knife, six months hard labour. Pizer may also have been acquitted of an
indecent assault charge at the Thames Police court on 4 August 1888, but I have not yet found a reference to substantiate this.
29 HO A49301/193. 14 October 1889. Mr T H Haslewood wrote to Scotland Yard that ‘Sergt. T. Thicke [sic]’ should be watched
‘and his whereabouts ascertained upon other dates when certain women have met their end...’ An earlier letter from Mr
Haslewood was dismissed as ‘plainly rubbish’.

Moreover, Abberline’s remarks may have been somewhat disingenuous, for John Pizer, the son of a Polish Jew, does
not appear to have been ‘concealed’ by his relatives. He had returned home for a perfectly good reason. Sunset on
Thursday 6 September 1888—coincidentally the day of Polly Nichols’ funeral—marked the start of Rosh Hashanah,
the Jewish New Year.30 Prayers and festive meals would continue in the Pizer household until sunset on Saturday 8
September. Yet after an eighteen-year acquaintanceship it had not occurred to Sergeant Thick that John Pizer might
have been with his family throughout this most important of Jewish festivals.
In examining the twelve-day life-cycle of Leather Apron, which witnessed the creation, manifestation, arrest and
exoneration of a ‘lone maniac’, it is impossible to square the component parts of the Abberline/Thick/Pizer/Eye-
Witness circle with those of the Dam/Springfield/O’Connor circle and arrive at a conclusion other than that Leather
Apron was a carefully-managed deception—just as Jack the Ripper would be in the near future—created with full
knowledge of John Pizer.
The only way the story could have played out as recorded was by means of a degree of collusion between the Star,
Pizer and certain elements of the police.
But to what possible end?
Therein lies the real mystery. We simply do not know. It is, however, possible to draw certain conclusions based on
the scant indicators at our disposal.
The character of Leather Apron appears to have been originally conceived to give shape and form to the mythical
‘lone maniac’ said to be responsible for the murders of Emma Smith, Martha Tabram and Polly Nichols. Yet the murder
of Annie Chapman marked an abrupt end to Leather Apron’s brief reign of terror. Following Pizer’s exoneration, the hunt
for Leather Apron petered out, with the police making no real effort to discover whether, as the Star had suggested,
another person, also known as Leather Apron, was indeed responsible for the four murders.31
It starts to become apparent that during the nineteen days prior to the ‘double event’ the public was being weaned
off the mythical Leather Apron in readiness for the debut of the equally mythical Jack the Ripper. The world was
about to be sold a new, improved ‘lone maniac’ - one who would seize the imagination in a way Leather Apron never
quite managed to do, would kill again and eventually pass anonymously into the mists of time as the most mysterious
murderer in history.
Leather Apron had to be identified, arrested and exonerated in order to dispel the myth and remove him as a viable
suspect. Had the hunt continued following Pizer’s exoneration, one thing is certain. With the publication of the ‘Dear
Boss’ letter—in which someone signing themselves Jack the Ripper wrote ‘That joke about Leather Apron gave me real
fits...’ —two lone maniacs would have been in competition for the credit of having murdered Annie Chapman.
Following his exoneration, Pizer shuffled off to the sound of his own footsteps, with no further press reports about
his pending libel actions against those newspapers which had not previously—or allegedly—settled out of court.
However, in the following month he did make a brief appearance in front of a magistrate.
Lloyds Weekly Newspaper, 14 October 1888:
At the Thames Police Court yesterday, on Thursday, John Pizer, who claimed for himself over the fourth
Whitechapel murder that he was ‘Leather Apron’ and who was arrested on suspicion of being concerned in
the Hanbury street murder, but afterwards released, summoned Emily Patzwold for assaulting him...
Here was an ironic twist on events.
...Pizer stated that on the morning of the 27 ult., he went out to get some cheese for his breakfast, when
he met defendant, who made use of an insulting expression and called him ‘Leather Apron.’ He took no
notice and walked on. When he returned she struck him three blows in the face, and his hat was knocked
off. While he was picking it up she again struck him. Some neighbours came to the witness’s assistance and
got him away...
Mr. Lushington fined the woman 10 shillings with 2 shillings costs.
30 1888 = Jewish Year 5649

31 On 12 September, the day of Pizer’s exoneration, Jacob Isenschmidt, who suffered bouts of madness and had been telling
women in Holloway, north London, ‘I am Leather Apron’, was arrested and confined as a lunatic in the Infirmary Asylum at Bow,
where Sergeant Thick went to examine his clothes for bloodstains. Still in the asylum at the time of the ‘double-event’,
Isenschmidt was cleared as a suspect.
John Pizer died, aged 47, in July 1897.
If a measure of collusion between the Star, Pizer and certain police elements appears unthinkable, consider also that
at this time there may have been a hint of darker deeds in the air—deeds which T P O’Connor may have considered a
step too far. On Saturday 8 September, the day of Annie Chapman’s murder, a cryptic message appeared in the ‘People’s
Post Box’ column of the Star:
Mothers-In-Law—The editor of the Star is a bold man, but he shrinks from the task ‘Jack’ would impose on
him.
Could Jack the Ripper, soon to become the bogeyman sine pari, have already been in the pipeline just under three
weeks prior to the arrival of the iconic ‘Dear Boss’ letter and ‘Saucy Jacky’ postcard at Central News? Had T P O’Connor’s
reluctance to help promote ‘Jack’ perhaps been the reason why the Star pointedly refused to publish facsimiles of the
Ripper correspondence, chastised the Daily Telegraph for having done so and dismissed the whole thing as a practical
joke by ‘one of those foolish but bad people who delight in an unholy notoriety’?32
At the time of Annie Chapman’s death it appears to have been a matter of no small importance to the police that the
murders remained contiguous and all committed by the same lone maniac. But not everyone bought into this premise.
Reynolds News, 2 September 1888:
Some imaginative detective has invented a ‘theory’ that the murderer of the woman is a madman with a
monomania for murdering outcasts, by the brutallest means. This ingenious officer should be promoted. At
one stroke, all the blunders and incapacity of the force are accounted for, and its place in the respect of the
disappointed public is recovered.
Yet, as time would prove, not all the murders were necessarily by the same ‘same lone maniac’.
And so, with Jack the Ripper still a distant twinkle in his creator’s eye, Annie Chapman started out as the fourth
victim of Leather Apron. Her ranking in the Whitechapel murders would change again over the years, as would that of
the other early victims.
By 23 February 1894, the date of the

Macnaghten Memorandum, Jack the Ripper’s
tally had been emphatically whittled down to
just ‘5 victims—& 5 victims only’. Of these ‘5
victims,’ Mary Jane Kelly had been the fifth –
an assertion endorsed by Sir Robert Anderson
in his 1910 memoirs33:
The last and most horrible of that

maniac’s crimes was committed in a
house in Miller’s Court on the 9th of
November [1888].
Counting backwards from Mary Kelly, Polly

Nichols was the first victim. Yet Sir Robert
Anderson also implied that Polly Nichols and
Annie Chapman had been the second and third
Whitechapel murder victims,34 thus making
Martha Tabram the first.
Who was to be believed? The Macnaghten Memorandum
32 Star, 4 October 1888

33 The Lighter Side of my Official Life, p. 137
34 Ibid, p. 135

In his 1914 memoirs,35 Sir Melville Leslie Macnaghten cleared the ground by detailing the early Whitechapel murders:
The attention of Londoners was first called to the horrors of life (and death) in the East End by the murder
of one, Emma Smith, who was found horribly outraged in Osborne Street in the early morning of 3 April 1888.
She died in the London Hospital, and there is no doubt that her death was caused by some young hooligans
who escaped arrest. On 7 August the body of Martha Tabram was discovered lying on the stairs of a house
in George Yard. Her death was due to a number of wounds in the chest and abdomen, and it was alleged
that a bayonet had been the weapon used upon her. The evening before she had been seen in the company
of two soldiers and a female friend. Her throat was not cut, and nothing in the shape of mutilations was
attempted...
The first real ‘Whitechapel murder’...took place on 31 August, when Mary Ann Nichols was found in Bucks
Row... This was succeeded nine days afterwards by the murder of Annie Chapman.
According to Macnaghten, of the first four Whitechapel murders only those of Nichols and Chapman were connected,
or ‘real’. Annie Chapman was the second victim. But at the time of Jack the Ripper’s debut, in his Dear Boss letter dated
25 September, he laid claim only to the murder of Annie Chapman. Now Annie Chapman appeared to be the Ripper’s first
victim. So where did this leave Polly Nichols?
It starts to become clear that Emma Smith, Martha Tabram and Polly Nichols had not been murdered by the same
person or persons. Yet these three discrete events had been promulgated as the work of a single ‘lone maniac’ known
as Leather Apron.
Exactly why this was so it is impossible to say. Of one thing, however, we can be certain: something of a sensitive
nature must have been going on at the time in the East End of London to make the terrifying yet wholly false notion
of a lone maniac stalking the streets more palatable to the public than the truth. And then came the game-changer.
Eight days after the murder of Polly Nichols, a gruesome discovery was made in the back yard of 29 Hanbury Street:
a murder which for sheer ferocity and degree of bodily mutilation transcended anything which had gone before. Annie
Chapman was the victim whose murder precipitated a change of Whitechapel murderers in mid-stream, passing the lone
maniac’s baton from the suddenly redundant Leather Apron to the soon-to-be-announced Jack the Ripper.
The copycat murder of Catherine Eddowes and subsequent Dear Boss letter forged a link with Annie Chapman alone.
In drawing this demarcation line, the author of the letter appears to be distancing himself from the three earlier
murders: ‘Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal...’
Some have argued that this ‘last’, or previous, murder was not necessarily Jack’s first, and that at the very least he
was also laying claim to Polly Nichols, but this is pure semantics. Had the Dear Boss letter read ‘grand work the first
job was’ we would still have to conclude he was referring to Annie Chapman, for her murder was the only one which in
its degree of mutilation resembled that of Catherine Eddowes. But in time Polly Nichols - originally the third victim of
Leather Apron - would become the first victim of Jack the Ripper.
The circumstances which resulted in Annie Chapman being out in the streets in the early hours of 8 September were
an almost exact word-for-word replay of what had happened with Polly Nichols on the morning of 31 August. Concerning
Nichols, Abberline wrote:36
‘When she informed the Deputy of the lodging house that she had no money to pay her lodgings she requested
that her bed might be kept for her and left stating that she would soon get the money—at this time she was
drunk.’
And concerning Chapman, Abberline wrote:37
She was last seen alive at 2am on the morning of the murder, but not having the money to pay her lodging
left the house remarking she would go and get it—at the time she appeared the worse for drink.
35 Days of My Years, pp. 57-58

36 MEPO 3/140 ff. 242-256
37 Ibid.

No lodging-house keeper was called to Polly Nichols’s inquest. At Annie Chapman’s inquest, Timothy Donovan, the
deputy of her lodging house at 35 Dorset Street and the man who had allegedly ejected from it the mythical Leather
Apron, added a further detail:
‘Never mind, Tim’, [Annie Chapman had told him] ‘I shall soon be back. Don’t let the bed.’38
The odds on such identical circumstances occurring in the preludes to two murders are as astronomical as their
coincidence is unbelievable.
There was, however, one significant difference between the two accounts. Whilst Polly Nichols lacked fourpence
for a single bed for the night39, Annie Chapman appears to have been accustomed to more ‘luxurious’ accommodation.
Annie Chapman inquest, Daily Telegraph, 11 September:
Coroner: ‘How much was it [her bed]?’

Timothy Donovan: ‘Eightpence for the night. The bed she occupied, No. 29, was the one that she usually
occupied.’ And in answer to a question from the jury, Donovan said that ‘the beds were double at 8d per
night, and as a rule deceased occupied one of them by herself.’
Here was an unfortunate who could regularly afford to pay twice the going-rate for a Spitalfields lodging house bed.
Annie Chapman had not been a recent lodger at 35 Dorset Street. She had last stayed there on Monday 3 September,
following a weekend spent in an eightpenny bed with Edward Stanley, known as ‘the pensioner’.
Stanley was variously described as about 47 years old, five feet six to eight in height, and decidedly superior to the
ordinary run of those who frequented the lodging houses of Spitalfields.
Timothy Donovan stated that ‘sometimes [Stanley] was dressed like a dock labourer, and at other times he had a
gentlemanly appearance,’ and on the fourth day of Annie Chapman’s inquest, he identified him in court, insisting that
on the Saturday before Chapman’s death he had come to the lodging house and stayed until Monday. Stanley had paid
for one night, and Chapman afterwards came down and paid for the other.40
Eliza Cooper, a hawker, agreed. At the inquest she said:
‘I knew the deceased, and had a quarrel with her on the Tuesday before she was
murdered [4 September]. The quarrel arose in this way: On the previous Saturday
[1 September] she brought Mr. Stanley into the house where I lodged in Dorset
Street, and coming into the kitchen asked the people to give her some soap. They
told her to ask ‘Liza’ - meaning me. She came to me, and I opened the locker and
gave her some. She gave it to Stanley, who went outside and washed himself in
the lavatory. When she came back I asked for the soap, but she did not return it.
She said, ‘I will see you by and bye.’ Mr. Stanley gave her two shillings, and paid
for her bed for two nights’.
All of which Stanley denied. Indeed, he had an alibi for the date in question. Between
Monday 6 August and Saturday 1 September he had been in Gosport, Hampshire –
although he did not offer a reason why. Consequently he had not seen Annie Chapman
until the afternoon of Sunday 2 September, ’between one and three in the afternoon.’
Without any further ado, Coroner Wynne Baxter readily accepted Stanley’s story,
remarking that ‘Probably the deputy has made a mistake.’
Thus were two eye-witness accounts [Timothy Donovan and Eliza Cooper] of Edward Wynne Baxter
Stanley’s presence at the lodging house on 1 September 1888 summarily discounted.
38 Inquest evidence, Daily Telegraph, 11 September 1888.

39 Pall Mall Gazette, 1 September 1888. ‘Women from that place were fetched, and they identified the deceased as “Polly,” who
had shared a room with three other women in the place on the usual terms of such houses - nightly payment of 4d. each, each
woman having a separate bed.’
40 Daily Telegraph, 20th September 1888

Early on the morning of Annie Chapman’s murder, Timothy Donovan had asked her where she had been since Monday.
‘She replied that she had been in the infirmary, but did not say which.’41 That Donovan did not know which infirmary she
attended may not have been strictly true, for on 10 September the Morning Advertiser had reported:
‘Timothy Donovan, deputy at the lodging house, 35 Dorset street, stated that after the deceased left on
Monday last he found two large bottles in the room, one containing medicine, and labelled as follows:- ‘St.
Bartholomew’s Hospital. Take two tablespoonfuls three times a day.’ The other bottle contained a milky
lotion, and was labelled ‘St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. The lotion. Poison.’ This confirmed her statement that
she had been under medical treatment.’
On the same day the Manchester Guardian reported:
The authorities of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, where the woman spent some time, have been communicated
with, but they have not been able to afford any information of a useful character.
Perhaps this was basic medical confidentiality.
Abberline was present on two days of Annie Chapman’s inquest (12 and 13 September) but did not attend on the 19th,
the day Stanley gave his evidence. Yet Abberline was the police officer who had confirmed his Gosport alibi together
with his reason for being there:
‘She [Annie Chapman] had occasionally been visited by a man named Edward Stanley, a labourer who resides
at 1 Osborn Place, Whitechapel. With that exception she was not known to be acquainted with any particular
man. Stanley has been found and interrogated and from his statement it has been clearly established that on
the night of 30th ult. [August] he was on duty with the 2 Brigade Southern Division Hants [Hampshire] Militia
at Fort Elson, Gosport...’42
If nothing else, this neatly established Stanley’s alibi for the murder of Polly Nichols.
Abberline also established Stanley’s alibi for the morning of Annie Chapman’s murder:
‘...and during the night of 7 inst. he was in bed at his lodgings from midnight until 7 am, 8, an hour after
the body was discovered.’43
This particular alibi was neither asked for nor offered at the inquest. Nor was it reported in the press. Yet Charles
Argent, the proprietor of Stanley’s men-only lodging house at No. 1 Osborn Place, was reluctant either to confirm or
deny it. Asked by the Echo on 15 September 1888 where Stanley had slept on the night of Friday 7 September, Argent
replied:
That I cannot say. We have not him booked, but then that is nothing. No, I cannot say where he slept then.
Perhaps a man who sleeps in the same room may recollect, but it is quite uncertain.
This was a most cautious of responses, especially considering that four days later Abberline would include Stanley’s
‘in bed at his lodgings’ alibi in his official Metropolitan Police report.
Argent also told the Echo that Stanley, whom he had known for twelve years, ‘belongs to the militia—somewhere near
Barnet’ and ‘worked at Roberts’ cooperage, Bancroft Place, Whitechapel44...He was absent at his militia duties from
July, and came in again here on the 2 of this month, and has lived here since then...I may say that he went by the name
of Wand here... He never kept his accoutrements here, and I have never seen him with a knife or, for that matter, in
uniform.’ Stanley had told the inquest: ‘I am a bricklayer’s labourer.’
Other details given by Argent conflicted with the report by Abberline, who had established that Stanley was in the
Hampshire militia at Gosport, eighty miles south-west of London, and not at Barnet, which was nine miles north of
London, on the border of Middlesex and Hertfordshire. From this it might be argued that either Argent or the Echo had
got their facts muddled.
41 Ibid
42 MEPO 3/140 ff. 242-256
43 Ibid.
44 50 Bancroft Road—1888 Post Office Street Directory. Messrs Henry Roberts & Co. of the Crown Works, Bancroft Road, Bethnal
Green, London E1, were basically a brewery plant production company, but they undertook a few small brewery construction
commissions in the mid-1890s—The Brewing Industry, English Heritage.
Possibly. But as we shall later discover, there was a major flaw in Inspector Abberline’s reporting of Edward Stanley.
Now we return to the fundamental question of how Polly Nichols and Annie Chapman, originally the third and fourth
victims of Leather Apron, became the first and second victims of Jack the Ripper.
At a glance the circumstances behind their murders appeared identical, but, as has been demonstrated, in the case
of Annie Chapman there was more going on behind the scenes than met the eye, most noticeably the details of Stanley’s
alibis being withheld from the public record.
What was it about these alibis which might have proved sensitive?
Cracks begin to show in these two supposedly connected murders. Could it be possible that Annie Chapman’s murder
was a unique event made to appear as one in a series, a follow-on to that of Polly Nichols?
The inclusion of Polly Nichols in the ‘Jack the Ripper’ tally certainly gave that impression, neatly providing the
murder of Annie Chapman with a precedent in more ways than one. It instantly portrayed her as just another hapless
unfortunate cast out into the streets in the early hours of the morning for the want of a few pence, only to become
another victim in an on-going series of mysterious and violent murders.
Here we need briefly to re-examine ‘Jack the Ripper’s’ claim to previous murders.
‘Jack’ wrote in his Dear Boss letter that the ‘joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits... Grand work the last job
was. I gave the lady no time to squeal.’ Yet it does not necessarily follow that the author of the letter was actually
responsible for the murders of Polly Nichols, Annie Chapman or, as we shall see, anyone else.
‘Jack’ may have been setting up a false precedent for the murder of Catherine Eddowes, who reprised the traditional
rôle of the hapless unfortunate cast onto the streets in the early hours of the morning for the want of a few pence.
Equally, though, with Leather Apron exonerated and the murder of Annie Chapman unsolved, ‘Jack’ may simply have
been providing a neat ‘solution’ to her murder.
If any of these hypotheses is true, ‘Jack’ must have felt secure in the certain knowledge that the earlier murders
stood no prospect of being seriously investigated and perhaps revealed as the work of someone else.
And how perceptive ‘Jack’ proved to be.
The Metropolitan Police fell over themselves to accept his word for the earlier murders, plastered his correspondence
across London on posters and in later years disagreed over who had been his very first victim. Was it Polly Nichols, as
advanced by Sir Melville Macnaghten, or Martha Tabram, as implied by Sir Robert Anderson?
From the foregoing it is not unreasonable to suggest that Annie Chapman had been a victim of neither ‘Leather Apron’
nor whoever was using the name ‘Jack the Ripper’ and that her murder had nothing to do with anything that had gone
before and little to do with anything which would happen in the future.
Edward Stanley was the key to Annie Chapman’s murder. Yet, as we shall later see, the Metropolitan Police were
keeping this information strictly to themselves.
To be continued in the next issue of Ripperologist.
Acknowledgements
Nobody writes in a vacuum, so my grateful thanks go to Adam Wood at Ripperologist for doing a bang-up job on Part
One of my article, and for the forbearance of my esteemed editor, Señor/Bwana Eduardo Zinna. Inaweza wewe wote
mara zote wanasafiri na kujiamini. A special mention goes to Robin Odell, Ripperologist extraordinaire, gentleman and
all-round good egg. Thank you for your heartening encouragement. Any mistakes are purely my own.
SIMON WOOD’s first foray into the subject of Jack the Ripper was in 1976 when he wrote a rebuttal of
Stephen Knight’s The Final Solution”. Simon knew he was onto something and had struck a nerve when,
in a letter to a friend, the late Stephen Knight wrote, “...I have been unable to do any more about
the work of Mr Simon D Wood, other than throwing some poisoned meat to his dog and shooting his
mother.” Simon and his wife moved from Wales to California nine years ago to be with their daughter
and granddaughters. Ripperologist 132 June 2013 28
Living in the
Street Shadows
By JOE CHETCUTI
Let’s turn the calendar back to the night of Monday, 17 November 1890. There is an eccentric
man inside a rented room at the Myer’s Hotel at 470 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC, who is
preparing himself for an evening of debauchery. In a matter of minutes, he will walk out of the
hotel building and stroll westward. Then he will proceed to a dark street corner and eventually
make a lewd offer. As usual, a young male adult will be the recipient of the proposal; a lad who
will quite likely become a new acquaintance.
Before going outside, the promiscuous hotel patron looks at his bedroom mirror and is satisfied that his moustache
has been dyed sufficiently black. The hair under his cap is also black, but, as can be expected from a 60-year-old
scalp, it is tinged with gray. He wears a dark overcoat and rubber boots for walking. Despite his age, he is still a
tall, striking fellow. He has arrived in the nation’s capital from New York, supposedly on financial business, but all
the banking institutions are now closed for the day. Night has fallen, and the determined individual is ready for
sin. He is actually more than ready. In his possession are two diamond rings, a ring of rubies, a gold watch, $250
cash, and a $160 check: an abundance of wealth that could attract any potential young partner.
Looking down at the city from his hotel window, he feels his confidence grow. He fondly remembers having
been the talk of this town 28 years ago. Back then, his medical business was booming on Pennsylvania Avenue. His
office was just a mile or so from the White House of President Abraham Lincoln. His name commonly appeared in
the local newspapers amongst testimonies from ‘former patients’; testimonies which, though fabricated, were
nonetheless effective.
In those days, he would proudly dress up in imitation military attire and ride his horse through the city. He
was a spectacle that couldn’t be ignored. Even his moniker found its way into the billing of a Washington theater
performance.
The years 1861-63 were financially rewarding for Francis
Tumblety and his crooked dealings in Washington. For a charlatan
to successfully make the famous Willard Hotel his nest for an
extended period was a satisfying achievement, and this was exactly
what the dark-moustached man had accomplished during the early
years of the American Civil War. It is now three decades later and
he has returned once again to the scene of his past triumphs.
As Tumblety surveyed the view from his window, he feels the need
to have one other thing in his possession besides money, jewelry,
and lust. He must have a security blanket of protection. He knew
from experience how capable the authorities were of turning the
The Willard Hotel
tables on him. It was reported that the former Secretary of War,
Edwin M. Stanton, had once, presumably in the spring of 1863,
given him just 24 hours to leave Washington.1 Tumblety’s ordeal inside the city’s infamous Old Capitol Prison
in May 1865 had left bitter emotional scars as well. He didn’t need to be reminded about how quickly this
1 Brooklyn Standard Union, 19 November 1888.

town could harass a shameless trickster. To make matters worse, just two years earlier, in 1888, the Washington
newspapers had informed their readers of the suspicions aimed at Tumblety concerning the Whitechapel Murders.
The advertisements which had spoken so respectfully of the glorious ‘Indian Herb Doctor’ during the Civil War
years were now only a faint memory to most people.
The security blanket Tumblety took with him as he exited his hotel room were odd letters of praise which had
supposedly been written by the most respected names in the land. If anything were to go legally wrong during
his fun in the shadows, those dubious letters would take center stage and hopefully resolve the situation. Even
if somebody brought up the Jack the Ripper atrocities, the Littlechild Suspect was all set to counter-attack. In
his pocket was his literature, a self-exonerating discourse which he believed vindicated him from any dreadful
London accusation.
On this autumn night Tumblety
could be seen leaving the Myer’s Hotel
and walking west along Pennsylvania
Avenue. Soon afterward he arrived at
the corner of Seventh Street, where his
office had been located during the war.
He might even have paused at this site
in recollection of those old victorious
days. Back then he was a wealthy
man in his early thirties. In a span of
a mere five years (1856-61), he had
accumulated a tremendous amount of
wealth by selling his herbal nostrums,
and that momentum was not at all
slowed down when he opened up shop
at this street corner. Now, with his ego
riding high, the old quack continued his
walk. Two blocks later, he would stop
Postcard showing Pennsylvania Avenue
and settle into a convenient shadow.
Tim Riordan has taught us that the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Ninth Street ‘was a popular stretch for
male cruising’ in Washington during this time period.2 Living in the street shadows is a dangerous existence, yet
Tumblety was an experienced survivor at this game. Street soliciting can leave a man vulnerable to venereal
disease, physical assault, robbery, police action, and public exposure. This perverted lifestyle was obviously a
risky business in the 19th century, yet at times it could briefly quench a desire for stimulation. On this particular
night, Tumblety apparently uttered the correct proposition and reeled in the type of boy he was looking for. Like
a reliable fishing hole, the shadowy corner of Pennsylvania and Ninth came through for him.
The only problem was that Tumblety’s heavily baited fishing line snared a double-catch. On one hook was a lad
who could fulfill his needs for the night; on the other hook, Detective Ned Horne, a policeman who was familiar
with Tumblety’s antics on the Washington streets. The licentious ‘doctor’ put up a protest, but there would be no
immediate escape from his predicament. Detective Horne marched Tumblety and the boy straight to the police
station.
2 Prince of Quacks, page 190. Tim Riordan’s reference was Gay and Lesbian Washington by author Frank Muzzy.
WRITE FOR RIPPEROLOGIST!
We welcome contributions on Jack the Ripper, the East End and the Victorian era.
Send your articles, letters and comments to contact@ripperologist.biz

Washington Post, Tuesday 18 November 1890:
DR. TUMBLETY IN TOWN

Immediately Placed Under Arrest as a Suspicious Character
LOADED DOWN WITH VALUABLES
Letter in His Possession Testify to His High Moral Character, and
a Pamphlet Recites a Complete Vindication of the London Charges
Against Him
Dr. Francis Tumblety, who is known to the police of all the large cities
of America and Europe, and who was under the surveillance of the
Scotland Yard force when the Jack the Ripper excitement was at
its height, was arrested in this city last night. Detective Ned Horne
saw the notorious doctor standing in a shadow near Ninth street
and Pennsylvania avenue. His actions were so suspicious that the
detective at once placed him under arrest. He showed a disposition
to resist, but Horne convinced him that he had better go with him...
The prisoner was placed in a cell, but soon afterward the detective
concluded to take collateral for his appearance in court this morning
and his valuables were returned to him. A boy who had been held as a
witness was ordered to appear in court also.
...In (Tumblety’s) pockets was a pamphlet containing the names of a
number of prominent men, both of this city and elsewhere, and he
also carried a letter from a well-known congressman.3
In the pamphlet the doctor had an article replying to the charges
advanced against him by the London authorities, and spoke of his
escape unscathed from the vilifying statements of the newspapers...
The doctor was well-known to the officers in the station, and Detective Horne told a POST reporter of
the man’s character. If he appears in court today, interesting developments are expected.
Tumblety showed up for his hearing at the Police Court on the morning of Tuesday 18 November. The local press
was not on his side. The Washington Post reported:
There was strong circumstantial evidence of his recent suspicious conduct to show that Detective Horne
was fully justified in placing him under arrest.
But the defendant was an old pro when it came to changing his appearance and mannerisms for the sake of
personal benefit. He walked into the courtroom prepared and eager to outclass Detective Horne and the street-
boy. A Chicago newspaper revealed:
The doctor is a large man who wears glasses. He was well dressed and did not present any outward signs
of a vagrant.4
Two witnesses soon came forth giving favorable testimony to the moral character of the defendant. One was
a saloon keeper who had recently reunited with Tumblety after many years of separation. The other was a ranch
owner who had known him during the war. But this development did not impress Police Court Judge Miller, who
was presiding over the hearing. Neither was he taken in by Tumblety’s book or ‘personal letters of praise’.
The doctor’s book was offered in evidence, and referring to it, the Judge said that when a book
containing the signatures of the crowned heads of Europe and the potentates of America is presented
to prove a man’s good character he always looked upon it with suspicion.5
3 The Congressman was John J O’Neill (1846-98) of Missouri.

4 Chicago Tribune, 19 November 1890.
5 Pittsburg Dispatch, 19 November 1890.
This courtroom scene was not a new experience for Tumblety. Just 17
months earlier, he had stood before the Jefferson Market Police Court in New
York. He had attempted to initiate an encounter on the streets, this time in
Manhattan, apparently at 10:30pm on Tuesday 4 June 1889. The lad whom he
had tried to accost was described as a ‘shiftless, wayward young man’ who
strongly objected to the advances.6 Tumblety ended up violently cracking
his cane on his prey’s face and sustained a cut in his hand when the young
man lashed back. The Littlechild Suspect faced an assault complaint but,
fortunately for him, the influential banker Henry Clews personally appeared
at the Police Court to bail him out. The matter was dismissed after it was
discovered that the young man had used an alias. The ‘doctor’ appealed
to the New York World, a pro-Irish newspaper, to clear his good name. The
newspaper supported him. So things turned out pretty well for him in New
Jefferson Market Police Court
York. Tumblety needed some of that same good fortune in November 1890.
Maybe with some luck, he could wiggle out of this other evening adventure that went awry.
But in Washington the deck seemed to be stacked against him. The local press and the police not only opposed
him; they communicated freely with each other and published the information. Judge Miller was not in agreement
with the character references submitted by the defense witnesses. In fact, the press reports stated that Miller
commented strongly upon the reputation borne by the notorious doctor over the years. As we have seen,
Tumblety’s ‘personal letters of praise’ were ineffective. Nothing seemed to be going right for the defendant this
time around. On top of all that, some newspapers reported a strange line of questioning pertaining to his alleged
criminal activity in England. Tumblety was asked to respond to questions regarding his indecent assault case in
London, the Whitechapel Murders and, presumably, the Cleveland Street Scandal.
On cross-examination, (Tumblety) said that he was never charged with a similar offense in England
to that indicated by (Detective Horne), and that he was not mixed up in a scandal implicating certain
lords. He said that some newspapers attempted to say that he was ‘Jack the Ripper,’ but that was a
silly statement to which he paid no attention.7
Tumblety lied in two of his three answers. First, he could not say that he ‘paid no attention’ to the Jack the
Ripper accusations while at the same time keeping in his possession a pamphlet which recited his innocence of
the crimes. Secondly, the misdemeanor charge brought against him in London in 1888 was indeed of a similar
nature to Detective Horne’s accusation.8 The only answer he got correct was his denial of having been mixed up
in the Cleveland Street Scandal – assuming that was the ‘scandal implicating certain lords’ referred to.
Tumblety needed to get out of this Police Court mess somehow, even without local newspaper support or the
intervention of the big-shot New York banker Henry Clews. At least he had history on his side. Modern-day Ripper
students who admire Tumblety are always gratified when their man scampers away from trouble. He fled from a
manslaughter charge in Canada and an indecent assault charge in England. Faced with illegal abortion allegations,
assassination conspiracy suspicions or Whitechapel Murder suspicions, the shrewd Irishman always ended up
successfully exiting the stage in one way or another. Although he sat in jail cells in New Orleans, Montreal, St
Louis, Washington, Toronto and London, he was never incarcerated for over a month. In fact, his imprisonment
often lasted only a few days, after which he would usually return to his home base in New York. Sometimes he
was falsely accused, but other times he was rightfully accused and still got away with it. As for the November
1890 trouble in Washington, it eventually became clear that the detective had only circumstantial evidence to
submit before the court.
Detective Horne gave evidence of the arrest after having seen the defendant several times under
suspicious circumstances... Judge Miller commented on the law, and said that the proof in this case did
not come up to the legal proof required to hold a person.9
6 New York World, 10 August 1889.

7 Evening Star, 18 November 1890.
8 Newspaper reports claimed that Tumblety was charged with being a ‘suspicious character’ for his exploits in Washington on the
night of 17 November 1890. The specific details of this charge were not reported in the newspapers, probably for the sake of
decency.
9 Pittsburg Dispatch, 19 November 1890.
The defendant walked off a winner once again. It was not because of his defense strategies, but through the
lack of hard evidence compiled by the prosecution. The police kept Tumblety under surveillance during the rest
of his stay in Washington, but it was not long before he journeyed back to New York for the Christmas season. As
could be expected, he was determined to get the last word in.
Martin McGarry:
(Tumblety) kept everything that was said about him in the newspapers.10
Upon his return home, Tumblety searched for news reports regarding the Washington incident. He eventually
found an article in the New York Evening Sun which he apparently brought to the attention of Henry Clews. The
two men wrote a letter each to the Evening Sun in January 1891.
It is difficult to find 19th-century copies of the Evening Sun if you don’t live in the New York City area. No archive
for that newspaper can be found on the internet. The good news is that the periodical can be viewed in microfilm
form. Fortunately, there is a library in Manhattan which stores the microfilm needed. I hired a researcher to make
a trip to that site to look into the Evening Sun. We struck gold and are now able to share with you for the first
time Tumblety’s written reaction to his November 1890 troubles.
Evening Sun, 17 January 1891:
DR. TUMBLETY STATES HIS CASE.

To THE EDITOR of THE EVENING SUN -- Sir: In the issue of your brilliant paper dated Nov. 18, 1890,
appeared a despatch from Washington to the effect that Dr. Francis Tumblety was arrested the day
before as a suspicious character. The correspondent forgot to mention that he was released on his own
recognizances after fifteen minutes detention: also, that not a scintilla of evidence was adduced to
show cause for his arrest.
Now, sir, I am Doctor Tumblety, and my friends and myself are of opinion that the arrest was an outrage.
I draw attention to it here, not on personal but on public grounds, believing it concerns the freedom of
the citizen at large, especially if he finds himself in the national capital on either business or pleasure.
If not generally known, it should be, that Washington is governed by Congress. Three-fourths of the
voters are colored, and while I have nothing to say in that regard, I do contend that the officials elected
and the appointments made in consequence are rather of a singular character. The man for instance,
who arrested me on his own responsibility was an intoxicated detective, and unless I appeal to Congress
-- you know what that means! -- I have no redress. Let me quote from the Washington Critic as showing
the absurdity of the whole affair:
‘In the Police Court this morning, Dr. Francis Tumblety was charged with being a suspicious character.
Judge Miller dismissed the case.’
I am well known in Washington. In the instance mentioned I went there to register
some Government bonds. What I want to emphasize is the fact that for blackmailing
or other sinister purposes the most distinguished citizen of the United States, the
most illustrious European visitor, may be treated in the same way and have no means
of redress. Does THE EVENING SUN think that a proper condition of things?
When arrested as a suspicious character I had on my person valuables, financial
documents, and letters from the following distinguished persons, which, if examined,
would reveal my identity.
President Harrison, James G. Blaine, Congressman John J. O’Neill, Drexel, Morgan
& Co., Henry Clews, the New York banker; Norvin Greene, President of the Western
Union; Judge Charles Walter of Washington, and many other gentlemen of national
reputation, besides Sir Hector Langevin of Canada.
I had not seen the despatch in The EVENING SUN until after my arrival in this city
for the Christmas holidays, or I would have written before, asking that a great
John J O’Neill newspaper that shines for all should do me simple justice. Francis Tumblety, M. D.
10 New York World, 4 December 1888. McGarry was Tumblety’s hired companion.

New York Jan 7.
Dr. Tumblety is not without friends, which is made apparent by the following
endorsement extracted from a letter written to The Evening Sun by Mr. Henry
Clews:
I have known the Doctor for a great many years and have good reason to know
that the attacks cruelly made upon him are without cause, excepting inspired
for sinister purposes, as the Doctor is fortunately possessed of a very fair
share of this world’s goods, which evidently many are anxious to share with
him through foul means. Yours very truly, Henry Clews
Of course, it was in the best financial interest for Clews to write what he did.
The firm Henry Clews & Co. harbored a monopoly on Tumblety’s considerable
assets. The banker supported all phases of Tumblety’s defense because it would
have been very bad for business if one of his prize clients were viewed as a sexual
deviant, let alone a suspected murderer of London women.
As shown on the right, the Washington Critic printed just a few
sentences concerning the dismissal of the case. In his letter to the Evening
Sun, Tumblety omitted the Washington Critic sentence which informed its
readers that the arrest had occurred at Pennsylvania and Ninth. It sounded
as though Tim Riordan was correct about this street corner having been a
popular area for ‘male cruising’ and Tumblety had preferred not to include
any sentence that hinted at it.
It is remarkable how this Ripper suspect was consistent throughout his life when it came to dealing with
adversity. When he got in trouble with the authorities, he often asserted that his foes were under the influence
of alcohol at the time of conflict:
1. September 1860, St Johns, New Brunswick. A Coroner’s Jury returned a verdict that brought manslaughter
charges against Tumblety for the death of James Portmore. Tumblety fled the country and blamed the
licensed physicians of St Johns for his troubles. He responded with the words:
Over their wine, the doctors planned... Portmore was dead that was certain, what killed him was not
so certain, but they would charge it to Tumblety.11
2. November 1888, London, England. Tumblety was arrested during the Whitechapel Murders. He fled the
country, returned to New York and blamed the cops for his troubles. He fired back in newspaper ink with the
words:
(The London Policemen) stuff themselves all day with potpies and beef and drink gallons of stale
beer, keeping it up until they go to bed late at night...12
3. November 1890, Washington. After his return to New York, Tumblety blamed Detective Horne for his
troubles. His written words in the Evening Sun were:
‘The man for instance, who arrested me on his own responsibility was an intoxicated detective...’
The ‘doctor’ was also quick to accuse the cops of foul play whenever he was escorted to a police station. His
letter to the Evening Sun implied that the Washington Police employed ‘blackmailing and other sinister purposes’
against him. He made a similar protest against the New York City Police when he was arrested for assault in June
1889. On that occasion he was brought into the Mercer Street Police Station by the precinct’s Captain Brogan.
Tumblety wildly claimed that when Brogan caught sight of him in the street, he immediately said out loud:
‘It is you, you___; now I’ll railroad you.’ 13
11 Morning Freeman, 16 October 1860.

12 New York World, 29 January 1889.
13 New York World, 10 August 1889.

There seems to have been an inoperative section in Tumblety’s brain: the section that is supposed to inform
people that they’re doing something wrong. Tumblety never admitted guilt for any of his actions, but instead
preferred to label his opponents publicly as booze-drinking extortionists. Obvious discrepancies arise when
comparing the criminal suspicions directed at this man with the odd tales he recited in his own defense. Let’s
briefly take a look at four examples.
We might as well begin with the Washington incident.
Criminal suspicion resulted from his public misbehavior
on the night of 17 November 1890. But when he took
the witness stand the next morning, he told a much
different story. For starters, he made sure to change
the location of the arrest so that it wouldn’t be on Ninth
Street.
The defendant testified in his own behalf that
he was waiting for a car at Seventh street and
Pennsylvania avenue last night, when he heard
two young men talking about New York. They were
talking when Detective Horne came along and
stopped near them. Witness thought the officer
acted rudely and he walked away. The doctor
Corner of Seventh Street and Pennsylvania Avenue denied the charge against him and denounced the
arrest as a shocking outrage.14
*****
In the previous year, the assault complaint issued against him in New York had led to a big contrast in testimonies.
The New York World reported the following on 10 August 1889:
(George) Davis said that he was walking in Fifth avenue when Dr. Tumblety accosted him. He called the
Doctor a vile name, and Tumblety struck him on the face with his cane...
...In his despair, Dr. Tumblety appealed to THE WORLD, to give him the vindication that was his right.
THE WORLD, he said, had protected the innocent so often, he was sure he could get justice through
it. To a World reporter, Dr. Tumblety told a different version of the assault, and insisted that it was a
conspiracy to rob him and ruin his character.
*****
In 1864, an officer at Brooklyn’s 41st Precinct obtained an arrest warrant against Tumblety and brought him
to the Police Court. This time Tumblety was in trouble because he had kicked one of his asthmatic patients
‘several times in the ribs and knocked him down stairs.’ The patient had complained about the ineffectiveness of
Tumblety’s medicines. Not surprisingly, the quack orchestrated a blatantly different account of the affair.
‘...the Doctor produced two witnesses, who magnanimously swore that the Doctor never touched (the
plaintiff)’ but rather ‘after politely requesting him to leave, took him by the arm and led him out.’15
14 Evening Star, 18 November 1890.

15 Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 10 May 1864.
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It is important to remember that while in England, Tumblety was said to have hired men who were derisively
labeled as ’decoy ducks’. They would hang around his office and speak ever so favorably about the medical
treatment they were receiving.16 In 1864, it sounded as though Tumblety had also taught a few of his Brooklyn
‘decoy ducks’ how to talk obediently inside a courtroom.
*****
And who could forget the Littlechild Suspect’s explanation of why suspicion was directed at him during the
height of the Ripper murders?
I had simply been guilty of wearing a slouch hat, and for that I was charged with a series of the most
horrible crimes ever recorded.17
I get the feeling that Tumblety could recite a speech at a podium without saying one truthful sentence and
simultaneously pass a polygraph test with ease. Guilt just did not register into this man’s conscience. It is hard to
tell if he was simply born that way or if this was a condition he developed while continuously living in the street
shadows. But regardless of how he learned to master his pleas of innocence, the notorious man surely knew how
to con certain people with his polished speech. He also knew how to make things tough for a criminal prosecutor
and, given the chance, he could probably make things difficult for a jury to convict him beyond a reasonable
doubt. In addition, his vast wealth could afford him the best defense attorneys. Besides all that, he wasn’t afraid
to do battle in a courthouse. A Forensic Handwriting Analyst in England studied Tumblety’s writings and smartly
commented:
At times he welcomed opposition since it gave him a chance to impose his will on other people.18
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Charles Hollander for surviving Hurricane Sandy in New Jersey and traveling to New York
City to print out the Evening Sun off the microfilm reel. Appreciation also goes out to Eduardo Zinna who is always
there to lend a helping hand.
16 Liverpool Leader, 16 January 1875.

17 New York World, 29 January 1889.
18 This quote comes from Ruth Myers and can be found in the Appendix of Neil R Storey’s The Dracula Secrets: Jack the Ripper and
the Darkest Sources of Bram Stoker.
JOE CHETCUTI has donated articles to Ripper journals in England and the United States for over eight
years. He will be making his first trip to Europe next May, and he is looking forward to meeting many of
his colleagues in England. He always recommends Ripper students to submit articles to Ripper journals.
He thinks these periodicals do a great job of rejuvenating our field.

Mystery at Mr Cooke’s
School of Anatomy
By JAN BONDESON
Born in Buffalo, New York, in 1841, Thomas Cooke was the only son of Mr John Hawley Cooke,
a Shrewsbury gentleman, and his wife Jane, the daughter of the Hon. Richard Hawley. His
globetrotting parents took him to Paris as an infant, and he was later privately educated there,
before becoming a medical student. Thomas Cooke graduated in 1862 and set out to become an
anatomist. He made excellent progress as a medical scientist, but the Siege of Paris put an end
to his prospects in late 1870. After moving to London, he managed to become Demonstrator of
Anatomy and Physiology, and Assistant Surgeon, at Westminster Hospital.1 One of the high points
in his rather sad life came the year after, when he made a favourable marriage to Aglae, the
daughter of the 21st Comte de Hamel de Manin.
Thomas Cooke was proud of the superior anatomical education he had received in Paris, and hopeful of
a brilliant career in London’s medical world. His colleagues at the Westminster Hospital agreed that
Thomas Cooke was a skilful anatomist and useful teacher. Unfortunately for him, they also agreed
that he was a clumsy, dangerous surgeon, incapable of adapting to the Listerian principles of
antisepsis. When vacancies occurred at the hospital, he was not promoted to full surgeon, and
he was eventually relieved of all clinical duties. For obvious reasons, he was also unable to set
himself up in private practice.
In 1875, the chagrined Mr Cooke decided to open his own anatomy school. Controversially,
he did so in his own home, No. 31 New Bridge Street, Blackfriars. Not unsurprisingly, the
neighbours were soon up in arms against this malodorous enterprise in private medical
education. In January 1877, they had Mr Cooke prosecuted at the Guildhall Police Court.
When the police had raided the premises, they had found a putrid human body, and the equally
seasoned cadavers of a rabbit and a large baboon. The magistrate Sir Thomas Gabriel declared
Mr Cooke’s School of Anatomy a nuisance and ordered it to be closed down forthwith. Mr Cooke
complied, although he lamented that it would cost him £500. Some ribald writing in the London
newspapers prompted the anatomist to complain, in the Medical Times & Gazette, how harshly he had
Mr Cooke’s portrait, been treated at the police court, and how severely he had been libelled in the press.2
from the Graphic of
18 February 1899 But Mr Cooke was a very stubborn man. Oblivious to the argument that private medical schools were
a thing of the past, more suited to Dickens’ Bob Sawyer than to modern medical education, or the
equally potent argument that London’s great teaching hospitals already had perfectly good anatomy departments, he
was hell bent on setting up his School of Anatomy at a more suitable location. The persistent anatomist purchased a
plot in an old graveyard at the corner of Handel Street and Henrietta Mews, Bloomsbury, which was large enough for the
anatomy school not to stink down the neighbourhood, or so at least he presumed. The new school was ready in 1878.
1 On Mr Cooke and his career, see Plarr’s Lives of the Fellows of the Royal College of Surgeons; also his obituaries in Graphic 18
February 1899, British Medical Journal i [1899], 444, Lancet i [1899], 395 and New York Medical Journal 4 March 1899, 309;
Lloyd’s Weekly 16 November 1902, L.T. Morton (Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine 84 [1991], 682), the Casebook forum
and the UCL Bloomsbury Project online.
2 London Medical Record Oct 15 1875, 603 and Medical Times and Gazette 20 January 1977, 70, 27 January 1877, 94 and 103.

It was entered from a small gate in Henrietta Mews, a
notice over the door having the sign ‘Anatomy, Physiology,
and Surgery’. Mr Cooke’s new School of Anatomy had a
large dissecting-room, a laboratory, and an anatomical
tank full of corrosive sublimate [mercury chloride], in
which not less than 17 cadavers could be stored. There
were no close neighbours, since the anatomy school was
surrounded by the old graveyard, with the tombstones
remaining. This had once been the joint burial ground of
St George’s Church, Bloomsbury Way, and St George the Henrietta Mews is still approached from Handel Street
Martyr, Queen Square, but burials had ceased in 1855.
But once more, the neighbours in Handel Street were

soon up in arms against the anatomy school. Not only
did they feel that such an establishment should not exist
outside an established hospital, but they also alleged that
insanitary smells emanated from the dissecting-room.
But this time, Mr Cooke fared better when summoned
before the sanitary authorities of St Pancras in July
1880. He pointed out that his school was 106 feet away
from the nearest building, and 350 feet away from the
house of the main complainant. He managed to persuade
the authorities that his anatomy school was a modern,
sanitary enterprise, and that its position could not be
Gravestones in St George’s Gardens
better. A deputation of the local inhabitants tried to force
their way into the courtroom, quite possibly to lynch the anatomist, but they were ordered to retire by two sturdy police
constables.3 Mr Cooke had won the day, although he continued to be very unpopular locally. Rotten vegetables were
thrown at his coach, and the windows of the anatomy school were surreptitiously broken.
The 1881 Census finds Mr Cooke and his family at No. 16 Woburn Place, not far from his anatomy school. He was
39-years-old at the time, and his wife Aglae 37. They had five children, of whom the eldest son Granville was at
Charterhouse, his private school. The young daughters Florence and Evelyn were at home, as were their brothers Francis
and Reginald. Four medical students lodged in the large house, and the Cookes employed four servants. Mr Cooke was
an enthusiastic teacher, and by some stratagem or other, he was also able to ensure that his school’s supply of cadavers
exceeded those of the London teaching hospitals. As a result, many a backward medical student took classes to brush
up his anatomy there before the exams, and London’s only private anatomy school flourished. The dissecting room
was never short of pupils, and in spite of his failed hospital career, and lack of private practice, Mr Cooke made a
comfortable living as an anatomy teacher, with more than a hundred pupils a year.
One of Mr Cooke’s early pupils was John Bland-Sutton, later to become a distinguished surgeon. In his memoirs The
Story of a Surgeon, Sir John Bland-Sutton, as he had become, had nothing but good to say about Mr Cooke. The anatomy
school was large and well attended, and the supply of cadavers excellent. “Cooke was an admirable teacher and had a
system of his own, teaching over the freshly dissected body; and the course was so arranged that the whole of the body
was quickly reviewed in three months. With a good class there was a brisk round of questions and answers for an hour,
often enlightened with sallies of wit and repartee, brilliant and delightful.” Mr Cooke wrote a series of cram-books,
popularly known as ‘Cooke’s Tablets’, which he printed himself at the anatomy school. One of Bland-Sutton’s fellow
pupils at the school was the celebrated cricketer W G Grace. John Bland-Sutton was no good at cricket himself, however,
and was often relegated to score-keeper when the medical students played at their field at Durants. Bland-Sutton was
an excellent anatomist, however, and Mr Cooke offered him a salaried post as his demonstrator at the anatomy school,
but due to the establishment’s dubious reputation, he turned it down.4 Instead, Mr Cooke employed an impecunious
young doctor named Edward Knight as his assistant, and this individual would remain associated with the school for
many years.
3 Hampshire Telegraph 28 July 1880, Student’s Journal and Hospital Gazette 31 July 1880, 183; see also Medical Press
20 September 1882, 237.
4 Sir John Bland-Sutton, The Story of a Surgeon (London 1930), 26-9.
Mr Cooke remained fearful that the locals would be up to mischief, and try to vandalize his anatomy school. He had
a cottage erected adjacent to it, to house a night watchman, and also a shed for the storage his printing press and
stockpile of anatomy books. In early 1886, a suspicious fire was started at the premises, and a number of Mr Cooke’s
valuable anatomical specimens were destroyed. Mr Cooke blamed the night watchman for being in cahoots with the
locals, conspiring to burn his school down.5 He evicted the watchman and instead rented the cottage to a man named
Henry Walker, sewerman to St Pancras Parish. Mr Cooke equipped his new tenant with a pistol, for use against potential
vandals and arsonists. Henry Walker had strong political interests: in spite of his humble background and employment,
he was a stouthearted Conservative, and a great enemy of Irish Home Rule. A soap box orator, the ‘English Orangeman’,
as he was called, kept haranguing the people of Bloomsbury, although crowds of Irish labouring men made threats to
lynch him.
In early October 1887, Henry Walker came to the Hunter

Street police station, to report that someone had tried
to murder him! Late the previous evening, he had come
home from a political meeting, noticing a cab parked
nearby. When he and his son sat down in the front parlour,
they saw a shadowy figure outside and heard two shots,
and a report like if something had struck the window.
The two Walkers ran upstairs and hid in their beds. The
morning after, a neighbour found a pellet embedded in
the window frame, and another on the ground nearby. The
evening of the shooting, Walker had spoken at an open-air
political meeting, trouncing his Irish opponent severely,
and as a result, some Fenian roughs had threatened his
life. The police questioned whether some political enemy
had tried to murder Walker, or if the night watchman had
been mistaken for the unpopular Mr Cooke? Walker was
congratulated by the President of the local Conservative
Association for his narrow escape. A journalist alleged that
in spite of making use of phrases like ‘dastardly attempt’
and ‘cowardly Moonlighters’, Walker had shuddered visibly
when reminded of the awful danger he was in, although he
had been given police protection.6 But a Pall Mall Gazette
The watchman Henry Walker under fire, from the Illustrated Police News, 8 October 1887
journalist suspected that the alleged assassination was
nothing but a hoax: Walker had in fact not been seconded by a single person at the political meeting, and the only
threats had been uttered by himself.7 He might well have made use of the pistol provided by Mr Cooke to fake the
alleged attack. Why had Mrs Walker not heard the shots, why had Walker not raised the alarm until the next morning,
and why had he not returned fire at the suspected assassin?
After the events of 1886 and 1887, Mr Cooke went on to enjoy a period of relative calm at his School of Anatomy. The
students kept coming, and business remained brisk. But in the late 1890s, the establishment started to decline, since
Mr Cooke was not getting any younger: his teaching had always been old-fashioned, and he was unable to keep up with
modern medical science. Mr Cooke died from a burst aortic aneurysm in 1899, not while demonstrating at his school, as
his biographers have alleged, but at his house in No. 40 Brunswick Square. He was succeeded by his second son Dr Francis
Gerard Cooke, who had previously assisted him at the school, along with the stalwart Edward Knight, but in spite of their
efforts, the decline of the school continued. Young Cooke left in 1904, to take up a position in India, but the persistent
Knight remained at the premises. In spite of its outdated premises and equipment, the improved anatomy teaching at
the London medical schools, the Great War, and various other calamities, the Cooke School of Anatomy struggled on until
1920. It has been presumed, by a competent medical historian, that the old anatomy school was closed and demolished
in or around 1920.8 But some very queer goings-on in 1925 indicate otherwise.
5 Medical Record (New York) 13 March 1886, 319.

6 Dundee Courier & Argus 29 September 1887, Illustrated Police News 8 October 1887.
7 Pall Mall Gazette 4 October 1887.
8 L T Morton (Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine 84 [1991], 682). Knight’s obituary is in the British Medical Journal ii [1928],
1074.
Thomas Cooke’s oldest son, Granville Hawley Egerton Cooke, born in 1872, received a superior education at
Charterhouse, and at Bonn University. When he married Mabel Violet Wright in 1896, he was still living in his father’s
house at No. 40 Brunswick Square. The scapegrace Granville Cooke tried his hand as a poet, an inventor, and an authority
on bicycles and motor cars, but without any success. In 1897, he thought of a disastrous scheme to ‘get rich quick’. He
opened a bogus private employment agency, offering to find people work for a fee of three shillings and sixpence. More
than 1,000 letters were sent to his alleged ‘office’, a poste restante box in Old Street, many of them enclosing money,
and Granville prospered briefly as a result. But two men he had promised employment charged him with obtaining
money on false pretences, and in March 1898, he was prosecuted at the Clerkenwell police court. There was no doubt
that the ‘London and Provincial Employment Agency’ was a bluff, and that Granville Cooke had swindled hundreds of
people out of their paltry three shillings and sixpence. The only defence his barrister could think of was that his client
was the son of a respectable medical practitioner, and that he had recently been ill, so that he could not open the
letters in the Old Street office. In May 1898, Granville was sentenced to 12 months hard labour at the Old Bailey, the
Common Serjeant adding that since offences of this kind were getting far too common, his punishment was very well
deserved.9 Granville had a previous conviction for obtaining five shillings and sixpence on false pretences in July 1896.
Granville Cooke’s life of pointless and cowardly crimes continued. Emerging from jail in late 1899, he was employed
as a traveller by a Huddersfield bicycle shop owner named Hubert Brooks. Granville went around on his bicycle to deliver
spares and accessories to dealers and customers. But various bicycle parts kept disappearing from Mr Brooks’ shop, and
Granville was soon suspected. He was found to have stockpiled 21 bicycle air tubes, 17 brakes, nine bells, 13 bags and
other property, to the value of £50 in all. The stolen property was recovered, and at the Liverpool Assizes, Granville was
sentenced to three years penal servitude.10
After being released from Maidstone Gaol in July 1904, Granville Cooke was soon again in court, this time seeking
divorce from his wife Mabel. Much dirty laundry was hung out to dry, revealing the gramophone salesman Granville
Cooke’s dalliance with his young typist Mary Hawthorne, and Mabel’s adulterous affairs with two men named George
Mason and the Hon. Charles Gordon Duff. Mabel’s barrister made sure that Granville Cooke’s life of dishonesty was
mercilessly revealed, but at the end of the divorce trial, Granville was granted a decree nisi, and custody of the couple’s
young son Cyril Athelston Cooke: the judge clearly thought his wife as bad as himself.11
In 1910, Granville made a rare appearance in court as plaintiff: he had fallen foul of a gang of racecourse blackguards
led by a billiards instructor named Arthur Smythe, and been cheated out of £120. These individuals had thought of an
elaborate scheme to make drunken ‘plungers’ believe that the results of various horse-races had been fixed, and that a
vast syndicate was controlling their outcome. Granville made a surprisingly good impression in court, saying that after
being heartily ashamed of his past exploits, he had changed his name to Egerton Hawley, in order not to embarrass his
respectable family any more. Under this name, he had earned a honest living for three years, as a civil engineer taking
out patents in connection with the motor trade. In the end, Smythe was convicted for fraud, and sentenced to four
months in prison.12
After lying low during the Great War, Granville Cooke resurfaced in 1920, with a poem entitled ‘Cry Not Farewell’,
honouring the war dead. His career reached an unexpected high when he received a letter of acceptance from Queen
Alexandra. It then plumbed an all-time low when he was convicted for converting to his own use money obtained for St
Dunstan’s Blind Institute from the sale of copies of this poem.13 He married a much younger woman named Bertha Scott,
but she left him in 1925 on account of his dissolute life. A sturdy, barrel-chested cove, Granville smoked like a chimney
and drank like the proverbial fish. He gambled hard and frequently lost, and tried various cowardly scams selling patents
and inventions, at times narrowly escaping prosecution.
In early 1925, after his wife had left him, the now 53-year-old Granville Cooke moved into the cottage at Mr Cooke’s
School of Anatomy. This was the very same cottage that had been at the centre of the alleged ‘moonlighting’ scandal
back in 1887. With him was his young friend Selwyn Foster, the scapegrace son of a recently deceased Yorkshire wool
merchant. A harum-scarum, scatter-brained young man, he had given Granville control of his affairs, something that this
experienced fraudster used to extort money from the wealthy Foster family. Although lacking any medical education,
9 Times 15 March 1898 9a, 4 May 1898 3e; the trial is on OldBaileyOnline.com
10 Huddersfield Daily Chronicle 2 July 1900, Blackburn Weekly Standard 28 July 1900.
11 Times 6 August 1904 3f; the divorce proceedings are in NA J 77/802/4394.
12 The trial of the racecourse blackguard Smythe is on OldBaileyOnline.com
13 Northern Advocate 3 April 1925.
Granville Cooke took possession of the School of Anatomy. His brother Francis was in India, and although Edward Knight
was still alive, he had left the school and was in very indifferent health. Granville used the school laboratory for his
chemical experiments, and built up a stockpile of poisons; enough, he declared, to kill all Londoners. He was delighted
to find a headless corpse in the anatomical tank, and proudly demonstrated it to his lady friends. Granville Cooke and
Selwyn Foster led a riotous life at the School of Anatomy. Granville rummaged around in the laboratory, and tried his
best to write some poems, but young Foster slept all day and was awake all night. Every evening, the two friends went
out partying, often bringing some young floozies with them to the School of Anatomy in the wee hours.
The little cottage inhabited by Granville Cooke and Selwyn Foster had not seen a lick of paint for decades, and
Granville made use of some of his friend’s money to restore it. The two workmen he employed, Harold Skinner and
Samuel Pearson, found the cottage in a most dilapidated state. There was a kitchen, a sitting-room and two bedrooms,
one of them occupied by the stuporous Selwyn Foster. Granville Cooke could not decide whether he wanted to occupy
the cottage himself, or let it to some card-sharpers for a good figure. His mother, the erstwhile Countess Aglae, came to
visit Granville more than once. She told the workmen about the School of Anatomy’s former glory, and her late husband’s
troubles with the locals. Once, Mr Cooke had 300 students there at one time. Remarkably, she added that Mr Cooke
had a tunnel constructed from his house in Brunswick Square to the anatomy school, so that he and the students who
lodged with him could travel to the school in safety, without being pelted by the angry locals; this tunnel had since been
boarded up. The bonhomous Granville Cooke showed the two slack-jawed workmen the dissecting-room, the headless
corpse, and his stockpile of poisons.14
On 1 April 1925, when the two workmen came to the cottage at Mr Cooke’s School of Anatomy, they found the lifeless
bodies of Granville Cooke and Selwyn Foster. Two of the oven taps were on, and the room was full of gas. ‘Two Men
Dead! Mystery of School of Anatomy!’ said the Times, ‘Discoveries at House of Death!’ exclaimed the Daily Mirror, and
‘London’s Mystery House!’ was the headline of the Illustrated Police News.15 Thirty detectives were working hard to
solve this mysterious case. Was this a suicide pact, murder or suicide, or a case of double murder? They searched the
mystery house throughout the night, taking up the floors and removing piles of documents. A strong force of police
constables was needed to keep out the crowd of sightseers, who had come to admire London’s House of Mystery.
Granville Cooke’s disastrous career was soon exposed in the newspapers, including that he had recently been
frequenting some very dubious boxing clubs to find ‘the great white hope’, and that he associated with a gang of
forgers. Had he poisoned his friend and then gassed himself? Selwyn Foster had recently served a term of five months
imprisonment for false pretences, something that was said to have broken his respectable mother’s heart. Still, this
disreputable pair had led a jolly life at the School of Anatomy, and Granville Cooke had clearly been making plans for
the future. At the coroner’s inquest on the two men, an impressive number of journalists were in attendance, hoping for
some juicy titbits about the drama at London’s Mystery House. Mrs Bertha Cooke, becomingly dressed in a black sealskin
coat [said the Daily Mirror, the seals would hardly have agreed], said that her husband had always been very careless
with the gas, since he was often drunk, and his sense of smell quite defective. She had recently received some long and
rambling letters from him, but they had contained nothing to suggest that he was planning to destroy himself.16
Mrs Emily Foster, mother of young Selwyn, said that her son had always been foolish and easily led, and his mental
condition had been far from good. He had obtained funds by selling reversionary interests in his father’s estate, something
she had very much disapproved of. The post-mortem examination indicated that both men had died from carbon
monoxide poisoning. There were some dirty and greasy glasses on the table, but they contained nothing poisonous.
Selwyn Foster had some caked amorphous powder around his mouth, but again this was no poison. The inquest was
adjourned, and speculation was rife about the goings-on in London’s Mystery House. The two workmen Harold Skinner
and Samuel Pearson sold an exclusive interview to the Daily Chronicle about their singular meeting with Granville Cooke
and his mother, just a few days before his death.17 The death certificates of Granville Cooke and John Selwyn Foster,
signed by Mr Walter Schröder, the Coroner for London, gave the cause of death as carbon monoxide poisoning, leaving
it open how the escape of gas had come about.
14 Illustrated Police News 9 April 1925. Aglae Cooke died in late 1939, aged 96. Mr Cooke’s house at No. 40 Brunswick Square once
stood at the north-eastern extremity of this square, and was thus quite close to the anatomy school.
15 Times 2 April 1925 16c, Daily Mirror 4 April 1925, Illustrated Police News 9 April 1925. See also Melbourne Argus 4 April 1925
16 Daily Mirror 6 April 1925.
17 Quoted in the Illustrated Police News 9 April 1925.

Mr Cooke’s School of Anatomy was
pulled down soon after the tragedy.
But for an illustration in that valuable
newspaper, the Illustrated Police
News, we would not even have known
what it looked like. The Wellcome
Collection has some photographs of
two odd-looking coves rummaging
around on the premises, and posing
with a cadaver and a skeleton, said
to be dating from the 1920s.18 They
are definitely genuine, but the men
are not Granville Cooke and Selwyn
Foster, perhaps rather Edward Knight
and his assistant. Today, the site of
the old anatomy school is part of St
George’s Gardens.19 Henrietta Mews
still exists, just off Handel Street on
the western boundary of the gardens.
There is still a door in the boundary
wall, one that once might have had
the sign ‘Anatomy, Physiology, and
Surgery’. Interestingly, there are also
some buildings remaining, including
an old cottage, but its proportions
and the location of its chimneys do
not match those of London’ Mystery
House, as judged from the sketch in
the Illustrated Police News. These
buildings can be seen already on the
1871 Ordnance Survey map of North
Bloomsbury, whereas Mr Cooke’s
anatomy school and its adjoining
Mr Cooke’s School of Anatomy, and other sketches concerning London’s Mystery House,
from the Illustrated Police News, 9 April 1925 cottage were not constructed until
seven years later.
I am reliably informed that the former site of Mr Cooke’s School of Anatomy is not haunted. To a close student of the
works of Elliott O’Donnell, the Great Ghost-Hunter, this sounds well-nigh incredible. Surely there must be a phantom
coach, pelted by some spectral guttersnipes, a ghostly Irishman firing off his pistol at the Cottage of Death, and a weird
dissecting-room scene enacted by headless corpses, with the anatomist emerging from a hidden tunnel like a jack-in-
the box? And surely, the site must also be haunted by a sturdy, inebriated ghost, surrounded by a cloud of nebulous gas,
making a theatrical gesture and declaiming:
Cry not farewell, O anguish-stricken heart,

When cruel death tears loving ones apart,
Be not disconsolate, though hope has fled,
And all worth cherishing on earth is dead...
18 Wellcome Collection V0030948-V0030951.

19 Islington Gazette 18 July 1972.
JAN BONDESON is a senior lecturer and consultant rheumatologist at Cardiff University. He is the author
of The London Monster, The Great Pretenders, Blood on the Snow and other true crime books, as well as
the bestselling Buried Alive.
The Men
Who Would Be Ripper
The Seamen Part 1
By NINA and HOWARD BROWN
Scouring newspapers for instances of men and women

asserting they were Jack the Ripper, we find numerous
men with ties to the open sea and ships mentioned.
Seamen were considered a prime suspect group, both officially and
otherwise. Inspector Henry Moore claimed seamen were of special
interest in an 1899 interview with Philadelphia journalist Richard
Harding Davis. Queen Victoria is found asking the Home Office whether
they had searched cattle boats after another brutal murder in the
East End... E K Larkins, a civilian, pressed the police to investigate
Portuguese cattleboatmen... James Sadler was considered the prime
suspect in the murder of Frances Coles for a while in February 1891...
William Grant Grainger, whose assault in 1895 upon Alice Graham in
the vicinity of the previous murders encouraged the police to pursue
“Of course, everyone wants “I am bound to say this theory
his past in a serious effort to determine his whereabouts six-and-a-
to know who Jack the Ripper (the Seaman theory endorsed by
was. Well, so far as I could half-years earlier, Grainger having left home at 15 to go to sea. E K Larkins) - for theory it of
make out, he was a mad necessity is- struck me as being re-
foreign sailor, who paid We have the so far untraceable - and probably non existant - markably ingenious and worthy
periodical visits to London on “Fogelma”, mentioned in the Empire News on 23 October 1923, who of the closest attention.”
board ship. He committed the was said to have died in Morris Plains Lunatic Asylum in the United
crimes and went back to Montagu Williams,
his ship.” States... Carl Feigenbaum, first suggested in 1896 by his solicitor, Later Leaves, 1891
Inspector Henry Moore, William Lawson, after the convicted killer’s execution... and John
Boston Daily Globe Anderson, a seaman who allegedly confessed before dying in Chile are the most well known, but
27 December 1899 not the only mariners or shiphands proposed as the East End Murderer.
Here are seven stories involving would-be Rippers with some link to the seas or ships that appeared in the news,
beginning in 1888.
The Standard
9 November 1888
THAMES
Peter Donald, a well dressed, respectable-looking man, aged 35, an engineer on the steam ship Nepaul, lying in the
Albert Docks, was charged with being drunk and disorderly and terrorising the public by terming himself Jack the Ripper.
At one o’clock that morning David Bostock, 298H, was on duty in Commercial-road, Whitechapel, close to where some of
the recent murders were committed, when a hansom cab drove up to him. The Prisoner, who was seated inside, drunk,
hailed him, and said, “I am Jack the Ripper,” the cabman immediately driving off. After proceeding about 100 yards the
driver drew up. On the constable coming up the Prisoner again said, “Officer, I am Jack the Ripper.” As he was drunk,
and his conduct was likely to create alarm, and might lead to mischievous consequences at that time in the morning,
Bostock took him into custody. On the way to the station the Prisoner said, “What a fool I must have been to act like
this.” - The Prisoner now expressed contrition for his conduct, urging, in extenuation, that he had met some friends and
had a drop too much to drink. - Mr Lushington said he should advise the Prisoner, at another time, not to be so foolish
as to identify himself with “Jack the Ripper.” He fined him 2s 6d.
LIverpool Mercury
10 October 1892
LIVERPOOL POLICE COURT
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 8
BEFORE MR W J STEWART
THREATENING TO MURDER ON THE HIGH SEAS
A seaman named Thomas Dupere was charged with writing and delivering on the high seas a letter threatening to
murder Mary Elizabeth Hatfield. Mr Moss prosecuted, and Mr Ne** defended. It appeared that Mrs Hatfield was the
wife of Samuel James Hatfield, master of the sailing vessel Lancing, which left Rangoon on May 8. Prisoner was one of
the crew, and on the voyage was logged for insubordination. On September 8 Mrs. Hatfield found in her cabin a letter
inscribed “M. E. H.” and signed “Jack the Ripper.” to the effect that if she did not do certain things mentioned she
should share the fate of his other victims. In consequence of the Mrs Hatfield, who was the only woman on board, went
in fear of her life and the captain had had to double the watches and keep the doors locked during the rest of the voyage
of 160 days. Carl Sorenson, a seaman, whose evidence had partly to be interpreted stated that on 7 September he saw
prisoner writing a letter. This was corroborated by another witness. Sorenson asked prisoner why he was writing a letter
when they had passed St Helena, and subsequently saw him pitch the paper into the cabin. The prisoner, who reserved
his defence, was committed to the assizes.
Reynold’s Newspaper
17 March 1889
MURDER ON THE HIGH SEAS
At Grimsby, before the borough magistrates, Walter Gempton, aged eighteen years, cook onboard the Grimsby Ice
Company’s smack Doncaster, was charged with murdering the master, William Menley, aged forty years, at sea. Arthur
Pinnell deposed that the cook was talking to the master near the companion way, when he rushed at him and stabbed
him at the back of the neck with a clasp-knife. The deceased fell on the deck, was carried below, and expired in ten
minutes. When the master fell he said, “Oh, he’s stabbed me.” The cook shouted down the skylight. “Has that settled
you? This is a bit of Jack the Ripper.” After this they made sail for home. The body of the deceased, who was a married
man, was conveyed to the hospital. It is supposed that the cook, who is a nephew of the deceased, is not in his right
mind. The prisoner was remanded.
Reynold’s Newspaper
20 October 1889
A STUPID FREAK
Edward Hambler, a ship’s joiner, was charged with disorderly conduct. The evidence showed that he was seen dressed
in woman’s clothes in Burnley-street, Ratcliff, on Sunday night. A mob of about six hundred people surrounded him,
declaring that he was “Jack the Ripper.” and but for the interference of the police he would probably have been roughly
handled. The prisoner was discharged upon entering into his own recognizance for his good behaviour.
Liverpool Mercury
15 September 1891
ANOTHER WANDERING LUNATIC AT ST HELENS
Yesterday, at St Helens Police Court, a seafaring man named James Malone was brought up as a lunatic found
wandering at large. Constable Wilkes stated that at three o’clock that morning he saw the prisoner conducting himself
in a strange manner in the streets, and he took him to the police station. On being asked where he was going to he said
he did not know, but he knew that a lot of people were after him. Inspector Goodall afterwards ascertained that Malone
had a sister living in Tontine-street, and on the prisoner being taken there the sister said she was very much afraid of
him. He was in the habit of throwing knives about, and had said he was “Jack the Ripper.” Alderman Harrison asked if
the prisoner was a St Helens man. - Dr M’Nicoll replied that he came to St Helens to his sister’s house when he returned
from sea. He asserted that he was being pursued by figures of men, and he [Dr M’Nicoll] would recommend that he be
detained for 14 days. That would probably meet the case. He had been in an asylum before, and had suffered from
sunstroke while in India. - The Bench made an order for his detention in the workhouse for 14 days.

Found by Chris Scott:
Source Unknown
19 August 1889
FAVERSHAM
AN ECCENTRIC FRENCHMAN
On Thursday at Guildhall a Frenchman, who gave the name of William Rapsong, and said he was a sailor, was brought
before the county magistrates under the following circumstances. Police-constable Packman said that about mid-day
on the previous day he saw the prisoner running about in a mysterious manner at Preston village, where he was causing
a great commotion by saying that he was “Jack the Ripper.” Witness spoke to him, and prisoner then told him he was
only son of the Empress Eugenie, and that he was the brother to Baron Rothschild, who allowed him £36,000 a year
to spend. As prisoner was wearing workhouse clothing from Cardiff Workhouse, witness came to the conclusion that
he was an escaped lunatic, and took him to the police-station. Superintendent Mayne said that the prisoner had been
examined by the doctor who certified that he was sane, but said he might have been suffering through drink. The
learned chairman, Mr Serjeant Spinks, said the constable had acted prudently and wisely, but under the circumstances
ordered the prisoner’s discharge.
Sheffield & Rotherham Independent

16 October 1888
ANOTHER LONDON MYSTERY

CONFESSION OF MURDER
A man giving the name of William Russell, and stating that he was discharged a wek ago from an American ship, the
National Eagle, at the Victoria Docks, Liverpool, has given himself up to the police at Maidenhead, accusing himself
of having committed a murder in London on Tuesday night last. He says that, on the night in question, he had been
drinking with an unfortunate whom he calls “Annie.” They subsequently quarrelled, and he threw the woman over
the parapet of Westminster Bridge into the Thames. He then ran away, and has since been hiding at Kew and Windsor.
Haunted, however, by the belief that he was being hunted down, he became so uneasy that he could get no rest, and
consequently surrendered himself to the police. He describes the woman as rather good-looking, of dark complexion,
and rather stout, “the type,” he says, “of a London girl.” Russell was detained by the police, and late on Sunday night
the attention of Sergeant Meade was attracted by a strange gurgling sound as of some one suffocating. The officer went
to the room where the prisoner was, and found him black in the face from an attempt to strangle himself. He had tied a
silk handkerchief tightly round his throat. The sergeant arrived just in time to remove it and save the man’s life. He was
charged before the magistrates yesterday with attempting suicide, and remanded for a week for inquiries to be made.
Acknowledgements
We would like to thank Chris Scott and Dave James for their help with this article.
“Have the cattle boats and passenger boats been examined ?”

Queen Victoria, 1888
NINA and HOWARD BROWN are the proprietors of JTRForums.com.

Trevor Marriott’s
“The Evil Within”
By MARK RIPPER
Trevor Marriott is a controversial figure in Ripperological circles, especially on internet message boards such as
jtrforums.com, where some of his ideas bring him into conflict with some of the most respected researchers and
writers in the field. His writings therefore demand close and careful analysis.
Mark Ripper, author of Murder and Crime: Whitechapel and District (2011) and The Moat Farm Murder (2012) writing
as M W Oldridge, is a writer of rare ability and unquestioned honesty and integrity. Here he clearly displays the lengths
he will go to establish the facts - facts which sometimes turn out to be very unpleasant, as Mark discovered following
his close analysis of Trevor Marriott’s The Evil Within. Mark makes no allegations of his own; indeed, he scrupulously
avoids doing so, but here is the dry-as-dust evidence upon which you can draw conclusions of your own.
*****
In January 2013, through the publishers John Blake, Trevor Marriott published The Evil Within.
This book was a slightly revised edition of one of Mr Marriott’s previous books, self-published under
the same title in 2008. The Evil Within (2008) is listed in the catalogue of the British Library, and
the copy I consulted at the British Library is datestamped to show when it entered their collection:
26 September 2008. My copy of The Evil Within (2013) was obtained from a bookshop in London.
In The Evil Within (2013), Mr Marriott presents sixty case-studies depicting the crimes of many serial killers, arranged
geographically: nine cases from Australia, four from Canada, two from Germany, one from Japan, three from Russia,
two from South Africa, one from South Korea, thirty from the USA, and eight from the UK. There is a dedication, an
introduction and an epilogue, and some brief acknowledgements. The acknowledgements are particularly worth noting:
Among others, I am very pleased to acknowledge the help and support of: Elisabeth Wetsch; The Crime Library; Paul
B Kidd; Frances Farmer; Kathleen Ramsland; Mark Gado; Michael Newton; Rachael Bell; Marylyn Bardsley; David Lohr;
James Card; Martin Strohmm; Alexander Gilbert; Patrick Bellamy; www.crimezzz.net; and the entire team at John
Blake Publishing.1
This set of acknowledgements bears, not improbably, a strong resemblance to those in The Evil Within (2008),
the original self-published text of which the 2013 book is a slightly revised version. In The Evil Within (2008), the
acknowledgements2 are as follows:
Dr Ian Calder Michael Newton

Edmund Neale Rachael Bell
Phil Harrison Marylyn Bardsley
Paul Langford David Lohr
Elisabeth Wetsch James Card
The Crime Library Martin Strohmm
Paul B Kidd Alexander Gilbert
Frances Farmer Patrick Bellamy
Kathleen Ramsland Crime zzz
Mark Gado
1 Marriott, T., The Evil Within, John Blake, 2013, p.viii

2 Marriott, T., The Evil Within¸Trevor Marriott, 2008, p.525
The main difference, of course, between the two lists consists of the presence in the 2008 list of four names which do
not appear in the 2013 list – Dr Ian Calder, Edmund Neale, Phil Harrison and Paul Langford. These individuals contributed
to Mr Marriott’s investigation into Jack the Ripper’s removal of his victim’s internal organs, an element of the 2008 text
which was omitted from the 2013 revised version. Their absence from the acknowledgements in the 2013 edition is
therefore explained.
In the meantime, many of the remaining names in the acknowledgements lists are connected by the fact that they
are the contributors of essays to the Crime Library website (which is also cited in the acknowledgements lists). This
website, to be found at www.trutv.com/library/crime/index.html, hosts true-crime essays, some of which are under a
category named ‘Serial Killers’, and it is probably not surprising that many of the famous and striking cases featured in
The Evil Within (2013) are also featured on the Crime Library site. On the other hand, an examination of the individual
authorship of the cases which are common to The Evil Within and the Crime Library site leads to these results:

Some of the cases – which I have extracted from the above list – can be read about on the website www.crimezzz.net,
or other websites, instead of or in addition to their coverage on the Crime Library:

Of course, many of these cases can be read about in many places – on the internet, in books, and in newspapers –
and the list of internet links I have given is not exhaustive. However, I have identified these sites as the most useful
in contributing to our understanding of the cases discussed in Mr Marriott’s book. It will be noticed that (with two
exceptions) all of the individuals mentioned in Mr Marriott’s 2013 acknowledgements are authors whose essays are
hosted by the Crime Library website. Katherine Ramsland, despite the help and support she offered Mr Marriott, is
mistakenly called Kathleen Ramsland in both editions of The Evil Within. Likewise, Marilyn Bardsley’s first name is
misspelled (Marylyn), as is Martin Ströhm’s surname (Strohmm). Several contributors of relevant essays to the Crime
Library site – Jan Bouchard Kerr, Mark Gribben, Gary C King, Anthony Bruno, Joseph Geringer and Fiona Steel – do not
make it into Mr Marriott’s acknowledgements, for reasons which are not entirely clear. The coverage of the crimes of
Alexander Pichushkin at cassiopaea.org/forum/index.php?topic=7331.0 is interesting – one post on the forum quotes from
an article by Katherine Ramsland, originally hosted at www.crimelibrary.com/news/original/0807/1502_Alexander_
Pichushkin.html. This link to the Crime Library site is now broken; the forum post was made in October 2007, so it
would seem reasonable to surmise that Katherine Ramsland’s article was removed from the site, for whatever reason,
between that date and February 2013, when I retrieved the forum post. Moving away from the Crime Library, I note
that the proprietor of www.crimezzz.net is Elisabeth Wetsch (see www.crimezzz.net/serialkiller_about/index.php),
and she claims copyright on the materials on her website from 1995-2005. The identity of ‘Frances Farmer’, cited in the
acknowledgements in both editions of The Evil Within, is a strange case. I do not know the identity of the proprietor of
the website www.francesfarmersrevenge.com, but, at www.francesfarmersrevenge.com/stuff/frances/index.htm, it is
made clear that the ‘original’ Frances Farmer was a Hollywood actress of some infamy and mystique, that she was the
subject of a song by the grunge band Nirvana (on their 1993 album, In Utero) and that the name of the website ‘comes
from me [the proprietor] sitting at the Networks Solutions site trying to buy a .com domain that wasn’t gibberish’. There
is no suggestion that the name of the proprietor is also ‘Frances Farmer’.
Having noticed the common links between many of the individuals identified in Mr Marriott’s acknowledgements, I
decided to examine one chapter in detail to see if it suggested a sense of the ‘help and support’ which these individuals
had offered Mr Marriott. The chapter I selected was #2 from the lists above, about William MacDonald, an Australian
serial murderer. The corresponding article on the Crime Library website was written by an Australian author named Paul
B Kidd, and it seemed reasonable to compare Mr Marriott’s chapter not just to Mr Kidd’s Crime Library essay, but also to
Mr Kidd’s chapter about the case of William MacDonald, published in a book called Never to be Released in the 1990s.
Again, this text appeared in the catalogue of the British Library, the copy I consulted being Pan MacMillan Australia’s
1996 reissue of the 1993 original. The copy was datestamped to show the date it entered the British Library’s collection:
26 February 1997.
On the following page, I compare Kidd’s chapter from Never to be Released with his internet essay on the Crime
Library website, and with both editions of Mr Marriott’s The Evil Within. The columns citing Mr Marriott’s work operate
as a complete survey of his published chapters. Mr Kidd’s works are more extensive than Mr Marriott’s and some sections
of Mr Kidd’s works which have no parallel in Mr Marriott’s shorter chapters have been omitted. If any reader is concerned
that this in some way diminishes the value of this textual analysis, please be reassured – it doesn’t. If the reader wishes
to consult the full versions of Mr Kidd’s works for their own peace of mind, I suggest they refer themselves to the
internet source and the British Library.
For the purposes of making the comparison convenient and easy to follow, I have split Mr Marriott’s chapters into 99
components, which I have numbered in sequence.

I leave readers to draw their own conclusions from this analysis. Readers will note that I have not sought to demonstrate
that Mr Kidd’s internet essay was available before Mr Marriott published the first edition of The Evil Within. However,
the pre-existence of Mr Kidd’s book, Never to be Released, is an ascertainable fact – it will be remembered that the
copy in the British Library was datestamped in 1997, and that this edition was a reissue of the 1993 original. In The Evil
Within (2013), Mr Marriott claims copyright over his text and his publishers note that ‘Every attempt has been made to
contact the relevant copyright holders, but some were unobtainable. We would be grateful if the appropriate people
would contact us.’3 In The Evil Within (2008), Mr Marriott similarly claims copyright over his text, and notes that ‘Every
attempt has been made to contact the relevant copyright-holders, but some were unobtainable. I would be grateful if
the appropriate people would contact me.’4
I now decided to contact Mr Kidd. Looking at my textual analysis, I was drawn quite strongly to the conclusion that
the ‘help and support’ which Mr Kidd had offered Mr Marriott must have been extensive and generous. I also felt that
it was fair to assume that, since Mr Kidd had been thanked for his contribution in Mr Marriott’s acknowledgements, he
could not, therefore, have been a ‘relevant copyright holder’ who had turned out to be ‘unobtainable’.
3 Marriott, T., The Evil Within, John Blake, 2013, p.vi

4 Marriott, T., The Evil Within¸Trevor Marriott, 2008, p.ii

On 3 February 2013, I wrote to Mr Kidd via his most recent publishers at the Five Mile Press in Australia, inviting him
to discuss with me the nature of the ‘help and support’ which he offered Mr Marriott.
Dear Mr Kidd,
I am writing in connection with a book which has recently been published in the UK by John Blake Publishing.
The book in question is by Mr Trevor Marriott and entitled The Evil Within. You may be interested to
know that you are named in Mr Marriott’s acknowledgements, in which you (and everybody else in the
acknowledgements) are thanked for your ‘help and support’. I attach a textual analysis which appears to
show that Mr Marriott’s chapter on William MacDonald bears many similarities to your pre-existing work on
MacDonald. I would be very grateful if you could confirm (a) that you had contact with Mr Marriott prior
to the publication of his book, and (b) that you gave your consent for Mr Marriott’s work to bear many
similarities to your own.
I would like to include your response in an article I am writing about Mr Marriott’s book, and I would be very
grateful if you would give your permission for me to do that.
Regards,
Mark Ripper
London, UK
I also wrote to truTV, the company which operates the Crime Library website. Their copyright policy, to be found at
www.trutv.com/copyright/index.html#terms, says:
This site is controlled and operated by truTV, at 1050 Techwood Drive, Atlanta, GA 30318. The phone number
is 212-973-7523. All material on this site, including, but not limited to images, photographs, characters,
names, graphics, logos, illustrations, audio clips, and video clips, is protected by copyrights, trademarks,
and other rights which are owned and/or controlled by truTV, its parent or its affiliates, or by other parties
that have licensed their material to truTV. You may use material from this site and other sites controlled by
truTV only for your own personal, non-commercial use. Unauthorized modification of the materials or use
of the materials for any other purpose is a violation of the Federal copyright and trademark laws and other
proprietary rights. Material from this site may not be copied, reproduced, republished, uploaded, posted,
transmitted, or distributed in any way without express authorization. The use of any such material on any
other Web site or networked computer environment, unless expressly authorized, is prohibited.
However, I wished to know whether the apparent similarities between Mr Marriott’s work and the essays hosted on
the Crime Library website engaged this policy:
To whom it may concern,
I am writing in connection with a recent book which has been published in the UK, namely The Evil Within
by Mr Trevor Marriott (John Blake Publishing, 2013). I attach a textual analysis which appears to indicate
that Mr Marriott’s work bears many similarities to essays hosted by the Crime Library website. I would be
grateful if you could confirm whether (a) any of the material which appears on the Crime Library website is
copyright-protected by you, and (b) whether Mr Marriott contacted you prior to the publication of his book
to seek any relevant permissions.
I would like to include your response in an article I am writing about Mr Marriott’s book, and I would be very
grateful if you would give your permission for me to do that.
Regards,
Mark Ripper
London, UK

Mr Kidd was the first to respond. Among other things, he told me that ‘Never at any time did I co-operate with Mr
Marriott on his book and the words are my copyright. I have never given him permission to use them, let alone have I
ever been in contact with him.’5 This seemed to compromise the suggestion that Mr Marriott had been offered ‘help and
support’ by Mr Kidd, for which Mr Marriott duly thanked Mr Kidd in the acknowledgements to The Evil Within (2013). He
also advised me that his essay about William MacDonald, and his other essays on Australian crimes, were hosted on the
Crime Library website ‘at least three years before 2008, the publication year of his [Mr Marriott’s] first book [ie, the
self-published version of The Evil Within].’6 On 4 February 2013, Mr Kidd wrote to John Blake Publishing, alleging that
Mr Marriott had infringed his copyright.
On 7 February 2013, I wrote to John Blake Publishing, and to Mr Marriott. I wanted to invite both Mr Marriott and his
publishers to provide their comments about the textual analysis, and about Mr Kidd’s statement to me that he had not
offered Mr Marriott ‘help and support’. My email to Mr Marriott read:
Dear Mr Marriott,
I attach an article which I intend to publish in the near future. It compares one chapter from your recent
book, The Evil Within, with two sources (one to be found on the internet, and the other a book published
in the 1990s). I say nothing here about the outcomes of this comparison and invite you instead to read the
article.
I also invite you to send me your comments, which I will happily include at the end of the article. I would be
particularly grateful for your reaction to (a) the textual analysis which forms a significant part of the article;
and (b) Mr Paul B Kidd’s statement to me to the effect that he had not offered you ‘help and support’ prior
to the publication of The Evil Within.
I felt that it would only be fair to invite you to contribute your comments to the article before its publication.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Regards,
Mark Ripper
My email to John Blake Publishing read:
To whom it may concern,
I attach an article which I intend to publish in the near future. It compares one chapter from Trevor Marriott’s
recent book, The Evil Within, with two sources (one to be found on the internet, and the other a book
published in the 1990s). I say nothing here about the outcomes of this comparison and invite you instead to
read the article.
I also invite you to send me your comments, which I will happily include at the end of the article. I would be
particularly grateful for your reaction to (a) the textual analysis which forms a significant part of the article;
and (b) Mr Paul B Kidd’s statement to me to the effect that he had not offered Mr Marriott ‘help and support’
prior to the publication of The Evil Within.
I felt that it would only be fair to invite you to contribute your comments to the article before its publication.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Regards,
Mark Ripper
Mr Marriott replied to me on 8 February 2013, advising me that he would reply formally to my article in a few days,
and asking where I intended to publish my article. I replied to say that I had not yet made any firm plans to publish the
article anywhere in particular.
5 Email to MR, 04.02.2013

6 Email to MR, 04.02.2013

One of the directors of John Blake Publishing replied to me on 11 February 2013, thanking me for my email and
advising that ‘your claim is being investigated and we will respond in due course.’7
On 13 February 2013, Mr Marriott replied to my email. He had composed a statement which I produce here, verbatim:
STATEMENT
With regards to the publication of my book The Evil Within-The Worlds Worst Serial Killer. At no time have I
ever sought to suggest that this book was solely written by myself and that all the content was my own work.
That can clearly been seen in the list of acknowledgments naming writers whose material had been referred
to.
In 2008 when the book was first published by myself I acted in good faith and every attempt was made to
contact these writers with regards to copyright issues without success. I must stress that at no time have I
used any references direct from any authors published books. A paragraph was therefore included in the book
under an acknowledgment heading listing the various writers names on page 2. This read ;
“Every attempt has been made to contact the relevant copyright holders but some were unobtainable.
I would be grateful if the appropriate people would contact me”
In 2012 having revised the book removing a full chapter on Jack The Ripper and making minor amendments
to the book and the acknowledgment page. Blake Publishing agreed to publish the book. I had not been
contacted in the interim period of time by any writers, so there was no need for me to make any amendments
to the wording of the aforementioned acknowledgement except to substitute the word publisher as a point
of contact and not myself.
Your current article referred me to the acknowledgment page in the current book and I noticed that the
wording had been changed. I have to say that this had been done without my knowledge and consent by
an independent editor employed by Blake Publishing. The new wording now reads;
“Among others, I am very pleased to acknowledge the help and support of ----------------------------------
listing the various writers named in the first publication.
I have to accept a degree of naivety in the first instance with not specifically identifying in greater detail
references to specific writers. However it would appear that the publishers were not unduly concerned with
this otherwise they would have asked me to add the specific names to the specific references. If there is
any apportion of blame with regards to all of this, then it must lie with the publishers who employ editors to
vet manuscripts and part of that process involves the use of sophisticated computer software which identifies
text sources, clearly in this case that appears not to have been done, had it been vetted correctly then they
would have been able to identify the sources in the same way you have and any amendments needed could
have been carried out prior to going to press.
I fully understand the concerns any of any the writers I acknowledged initially may now have, especially after
you went to such great lengths to contact them. As clearly that acknowledgment wording as it now reads
implies I have had direct contact with them which is clearly not the case. I have had no direct contact with
any.
It should also be noted that bulk of the material referenced and used from other writers was mainly matters
of fact which have been freely obtainable and accessible on the world wide web for many years. For example
Ivan Milat who Mr Kidd refers to. If one conducts a Google search there are 168.00 references to this serial
killer alone.
I have been in contact with Blake Publishing and I am awaiting a response from them.
Trevor Marriott 13.2.2013.
7 Email to MR, 11.02.2013

On 14 February 2013, I received the following email from Clare Tillyer, a director at John Blake Publishing:
Dear Mr M. Ripper
In order for us to address your email complaint I kindly ask for the following information.
(I) With what authority do you concern yourself with Paul Kidd and Trevor Marriot?
(II) Please could you confirm your professional status, literary credentials, and business postal address
(III) Who is your legal representatives and what are their contact details.
(IV) What is the nature of the article you intends to write? In what publication is it to be published and who
commissioned it? What is the planned publication date? May we have sight of it first?
(V) Whether you or anyone associated with you has written or been the subject of any crime books?
Yours sincerely
Clare Tillyer
Director
John Blake Publishing Ltd
I didn’t reply. I hadn’t made a complaint, and, if I had, I saw no reason why it could not be addressed without my
providing all the information Ms Tillyer was seeking. I was a paying customer – I had bought a copy of The Evil Within
(2013), first-hand; I had also bought the Kindle version of the book. I wondered whether all customers who made
complaints to John Blake Publishing were expected to surrender the same information before their concerns could
be dealt with. I also wondered whether I detected Mr Marriott’s hand in the last question, at least: this seemed to
be intended to determine whether I was attached to a shadowy cartel operating against Mr Marriott because of the –
presumably – commercial threat he posed to its own commercial interests. But positing the existence of this cartel did
nothing to account for the idiosyncrasies of Mr Marriott’s text. It was perfectly obvious that Mr Marriott’s books were
competing with others on the same theme in an open market; by the same token, however, Mr Marriott’s books and all
the others with which they were competing were subject to the scrutiny and criticism of their readers. Every writer
is subject to the same rules in that regard. It also seemed likely to me that, if any one or more of these questions had
indeed originated with Mr Marriott, then John Blake Publishing were unlikely to be aware that Mr Marriott had, in his
statement to me, blamed them for failing to adequately vet his manuscript.
I now turned to this section of Mr Marriott’s statement: ‘In 2008 when the book was first published by myself I acted
in good faith and every attempt was made to contact these writers with regards to copyright issues without success.’
I had no reason to doubt the veracity of this statement. However, it seemed not to sit entirely comfortably alongside
Mr Marriott’s comment that I myself had gone to ‘such great lengths to contact them’ – them being, I suppose, Mr Kidd
and the other individuals named in the acknowledgements to The Evil Within (2013). In fact, I had only contacted Mr
Kidd so far, and he was not difficult to reach – typing Paul B Kidd into Google brings up plenty of links which show that
Mr Kidd is a writer and broadcaster from Australia. I then searched amazon.co.uk for Mr Kidd’s most recent book – by
doing so, I found the name of his most recent publisher. Working on the basis that Mr Kidd’s most recent publisher was
most likely to have his most recent contact details, I emailed his publisher, asking them to pass my email on to Mr Kidd.
I had a reply from Mr Kidd in rather less than one day, and the ‘great lengths’ to which I had gone to reach him had, in
fact, merely entailed visiting three websites and sending one email. It had taken a matter of minutes, and, though I say
so myself, required no great detective skill. I considered that, while I could not be sure whether my exact route to Mr
Kidd was available to Mr Marriott in 2008, it would have been incumbent on an author who was, by his own declaration,
committed to making ‘every attempt’ to contact relevant copyright holders to spend longer looking, and look harder,
for the copyright holders than I had done. If one searches for Paul B Kidd on Google, of the first links to appear is
from www.2ue.com.au, the website of a radio station in Australia on which Mr Kidd broadcasts. On my computer, the
link states that ‘Paul B Kidd’s journalistic career spans more than 40 years. He is a radio and television broadcaster,
prominent crime historian, best-selling…’ All this information is available before even clicking through to the radio
station’s website. The datestamp shows that the page was in place on ‘Sep 1, 2008’. Perhaps this was just too late for Mr
Marriott, whose book may well have been at the printers’ by that time. Still, on the third page of links (when I perform
this search, at least) is a link datestamped ‘Sep 5, 2005’. Clicking on this link shows that Mr Kidd was, at the time,

described in larrikin fashion as ‘a former newspaper journo, fishing expert and true-crime writer with a crumpled look,
[who] has been married five times (with his eye on number six), [who] lives in a Bondi apartment and [who] likes a bet’.8
It seemed strange that, although ‘every attempt’ had been made to contact Mr Kidd, still Mr Marriott had been unable
to find him. I noted that, when one encases ‘Paul B Kidd’ in speech marks and searches for that specific term on Google,
there are over 100,000 results. I wondered how difficult it would be to contact the other individuals acknowledged by
Mr Marriott. Would they resist discovery?
To test this, I decided to (a) use Google as my primary search engine; (b) use the names given by Mr Marriott
without speech marks around them; (c) use the names and spellings as given by Mr Marriott. This maximised my level
of inaccuracy, leading to, I felt, the fairest results. It would be unfair to repeat Mr Marriott’s attempts to contact the
relevant copyright holders using a higher degree of finesse than he had used, and then to proceed to argue that the
results were comparable. It will be remembered that Mr Marriott could not contact a single one of the individuals named
in his acknowledgements list. The fact that the internet is bigger now (February 2013) than it was in 2008 is a factor
which cannot be removed from the equation, so it was doubly important to me that I should build in as much inaccuracy
as seemed reasonable in order to obtain the most reasonable results.
My results were as follows:
Elisabeth Wetsch: the first link on the first page of the search is to www.crimezzz.net/serialkiller_about/legal.php.
This is flagged as ‘legal stuff’, covering copyright and privacy (among other things). Clicking on the link provides a
further link to a contact page.
Frances Farmer: a difficult case, because the proprietor of the website www.francesfarmersrevenge.com is not
known to be called ‘Frances Farmer’. However, the website does have a contact page.
Kathleen Ramsland: as noted above, this is a misspelling of ‘Katherine Ramsland’. However, searching for Kathleen
Ramsland leads one directly to www.katherineramsland.com – the website of the individual concerned – and other links
on the first page of the Google search include one to www.trutv.com/library/crime/about/authors/ramsland, where
Ms Ramsland’s biography can be found. This identifies her as the author of ‘nearly 1,000 articles and thirty-eight books’,
and provides a link to her website.
Mark Gado: the first link is to Mr Gado’s biography on the www.trutv.com website. The second is to crimescape.com/
authors/mark-gado, and the third and fourth link to Mr Gado’s pages on www.amazon.co.uk and www.amazon.com
respectively.
Michael Newton: no links on the first page of the search clearly indicate the individual for whom Mr Marriott was
looking. A search for Michael Newton crime brings his biography on the www.trutv.com website to the top of the list.
This identifies him as the author of ‘169 books since 1977’, and links to his website, www.michaelnewton.homestead.
com.
Rachael Bell: the second link on the first page of the search is to Ms Bell’s biography on the www.trutv.com website.
Another link, further down the first page, is to crimescape.com/authors/rachael-s-bell. In neither case is an immediate
means of contact given.
Marylyn Bardsley: as noted above, this is a misspelling of ‘Marilyn Bardsley’. However, in spite of the misspelling, the
first link on the first page of the search is to Ms Bardsley’s biography on the www.trutv.com website. This page gives her
email address.
David Lohr: the first link on the first page of the search is to Mr Lohr’s blog on the www.huffingtonpost.com website.
This site provides a link to Mr Lohr’s own website, www.davidlohr.net. The second link is to Mr Lohr’s entry on Wikipedia:
the page history shows that this has been in place since early 2007. The third link is to Mr Lohr’s biography on the www.
trutv.com website. The fourth link is to Mr Lohr’s website.
James Card: none of the links on the first page of the search clearly indicate the individual for whom Mr Marriott was
looking. A search for James Card crime brings his biography on the www.trutv.com website to second on the list, and
his article about the South Korean serial killer Yoo Young Cheol to third. His biography on the www.trutv.com website
contains a link to Mr Card’s own website, www.jamescard.net.
8 www.smh.com.au/news/tv--radio/the-odd-couple/2005/09/03/1125302781818.html

Martin Strohmm: as noted above, this is a misspelling of ‘Martin Ströhm’. Mr Marriott’s spelling does not bring Mr
Ströhm to the first page of the search; nor does searching for Martin Ströhm crime.
Alexander Gilbert: no links on the first page of the search clearly indicate the individual for whom Mr Marriott was
looking. Searching for Alexander Gilbert crime brings Mr Gilbert’s biography on the www.trutv.com website to the top of
the list, and his articles about Fritz Haarmann and Peter Kürten to second and third on the list.
Patrick Bellamy: the first link on the first page of the search is to Mr Bellamy’s biography on the www.trutv.com
website.
Having performed this task – which took a matter of minutes – I decided to make ‘every attempt’ to contact as many
of the individuals concerned as I could (with the exception of the anonymous proprietor of www.francesfarmersrevenge.
com, whose website was disagreeing with my internet security software). I wanted to know whether any of them had
overlooked Mr Marriott’s contact with them in 2008. I contacted:
Elisabeth Wetsch by email

Katherine Ramsland by Facebook message
Mark Gado via his recent publishers
Michael Newton via his website
Rachael Bell via her recent publishers
Marilyn Bardsley via email
David Lohr via his website
James Card via email
In every case but one, the message I sent read as follows:
I am writing with regard to a book which has recently been published in the UK. The book is called The Evil
Within (John Blake Publishing, 2013) and the author is Trevor Marriott.
You are named in the acknowledgements of the book. Mr Marriott advises me that, when he originally self-
published the book in 2008, he made attempts to contact you with regard to his use of texts from The Crime
Library (www.trutv.com). He states that, despite ‘every attempt’ to contact you, his efforts were ‘without
success’. I would therefore be grateful if you could let me know whether you have a record of Mr Marriott’s
contact at that time.
Regards,
Mark Ripper
London, UK
In the case of Elisabeth Wetsch, I amended ‘his use of texts from The Crime Library (www.trutv.com)’ to ‘his use of
texts from www.crimezzz.net’. In the case of Mark Gado, I received an email response from his publisher, notifying me
that my email had been forwarded to Mr Gado, within four minutes. I had now made reasonable – but hardly exhaustive,
or exhausting – efforts to contact nine of the individuals named by Mr Marriott in the acknowledgements to The Evil
Within.
David Lohr replied to me within an hour and a half, to say:
I have never heard of him [Mr Marriott] before. I have all my emails going back to 1995 and a search of those
archives did not reveal any emails from anyone with that name.9
Of course, in his statement to me, Mr Marriott did not state that he had attempted to contact by email the individuals
named in his acknowledgements list. Perhaps it was possible that Mr Lohr had overlooked Mr Marriott’s contact by
another medium – a letter, say, or a telephone call? I wrote back to Mr Lohr to ask him whether this was the case.
9 Email to MR, 19.02.2013

Marilyn Bardsley also replied within an hour and a half:
Could you please tell me the nature of your request? Permission to use texts from Crime Library stories was
not at the discretion of the author but of the copyright owner, which is almost all cases was Time Warner’s
Court TV, now TruTV. All Crime Library stories by Rachael Bell were copyrighted by Court TV and clearly
shown on each page of each story. What stories of Rachael Bell are you referring to? I did notice that Trevor
Marriott’s book addresses many of the stories that were first published on the Internet by Court TV’s Crime
Library, of which I was founder and executive editor for many years.10
This was useful information, and I wrote back to Ms Bardsley to indicate the instances in which her work, and that of
Rachael Bell, seemed to be paralleled in The Evil Within.
Mark Gado wrote to me within three hours, saying:
To answer your question, no, I do not have any record of Mr. Mariott’s efforts to contact me in regard to the
use of quotes from any of my books.11
David Lohr replied again, at greater length, less than four hours after my first email to him, to say:
To my knowledge I have never received any contact from anyone named Trevor Marriott. This would include
contact via email, phone, postal mail or any other medium.
If Marriott or anyone else would have contacted me for such purposes I would have referred him or her to
my editor at the time, Marilyn Bardsley. As the executive editor, it would have been up to Marilyn to review
any such requests.
When you write for the Crime Library they retain all rights to your work. That is what you get paid for. That
is how my contract was written anyway, I do not know if that varied with other authors or not so you would
have to check with them. If I recall correctly, I would get some sort of royalty if my work was published in
other formats by Time Warner, but that is not relevant to your question at hand.
At any rate, I can tell you for a fact that I would have never given anyone permission to use the content I
wrote for Crime Library and would have referred such requests to Marilyn.
Also, If someone had enquired about using my work in a book I surely would have made note of such a request
so that I could look for it later. I have no such notes in my files.
Again, to my knowledge and recollection, I have never heard of Trevor Marriott prior to your initial email
to me.
As a side note, I am quite easy to locate online and have maintained personal websites online since the mid-
90s. All of my sites have included some sort of contact information, hence it would be difficult for anyone
to say I am hard to contact.
Then Marilyn Bardsley wrote again, a little over seven hours after my original email:
Thanks for bringing this issue to our attention. I can assure you that every one of the Crime Library authors
cited in your list had stories on that subject published in the Crime Library before 2008, with many published
before 2000 when my company sold the rights to most of the then existing Crime Library stories to Court TV.
In the case of Paul B Kidd, we contracted with him to do the Australian stories from his books. As I recall, he
retained the copyright. Most Crime Library stories, however, were under a standard work-for-hire contract
which allowed Court TV to hold the copyright.
Turner Broadcasting, specifically Turner Entertainment Networks, part of Time Warner, that now manages
truTV, should have records of contracts and invoices for these stories. I still have many of these in my files. I
also have the written document that describe in detail the story assets that my company sold to Court TV in
2000. I’m sure that Turner has an identical document.
10 Email to MR, 19.02.2013

11 Email to MR, 19.02.2013

I’m afraid that I do not have the time to compare Trevor Marriott’s writings to see if they violate Time
Warner’s copyrights, but looking at what occurred with Paul B Kidd’s works, I would not be surprised. I
applaud your diligence and hopefully. [sic - ed.] It is foolish that anyone would try to illegally to benefit from
violating the copyright of one of the largest entertainment companies in the world.
For the many years that I managed Crime Library, I never received anything from Trevor Marriott. Normally
requests for usage of any portions of our copyrighted material were sent directly to me. An author of a
copyrighted story was not permitted to grant use of any story in full or in part. It’s unfortunate that Mr.
Marriott’s writing expertise did not lead him to looking for the name of the copyright holder which appeared
on every page.
I hope this helps understand the enormity of the problem and perhaps the truTV lawyers can address this
issue so that there are not any more digital books from Mr. Marriott that take such inappropriate liberties.12
I replied to Ms Bardsley to advise her that my previous attempt to contact truTV had elicited no response.
James Card wrote to me a little under eight hours after my original email:
I checked my Gmail archive of old emails including the spam folder and it doesn’t seem that Mr. Marriot
contacted me by email. I’ve had this Gmail address for many years. Also I would have likely remembered if I
was contacted about such a thing from another author. At the time I was living in South Korea. Nearly all of
my correspondence is by email. And my phone numbers are not published online. What parts of the story did
he use and in what way? I’m curious.13
I replied to Mr Card directing him to Mr Marriott’s coverage of the Yoo Young Cheol case.
Just over eight hours after my original email, Marilyn Bardsley copied me into an email which she had received from
Anthony Bruno. Mr Bruno had not been featured in Mr Marriott’s original acknowledgements lists, but Ms Bardsley had
clearly copied him into a previous email, seeking his comments as to whether he had been contacted by Mr Marriott prior
to the release of The Evil Within (2008). Mr Bruno wrote to Ms Bardsley:
I don’t recall ever being contacted by a Trevor Marriott for permission to use any of my Crime Library pieces. If he
had, I’m certain I would have forwarded the request to you, knowing that I don’t hold the rights to that material.14
Ms Bardsley replied:
Thanks. This is what everyone is saying.15
About nine hours after my original contact, Rachael Bell wrote to say:
I have never heard of a Mr. Marriott nor has he ever attempted contact.
Please let me know how this progesses.16
I had now, after a little over nine hours, received responses from James Card, David Lohr, Marilyn Bardsley, Rachael
Bell and Mark Gado, in addition to my previous contact with Paul B Kidd. I had also been copied into an email from
Anthony Bruno, one of the ‘unacknowledged’ individuals who did not appear in Mr Marriott’s list.
12 Email to MR, 19.02.2013

13 Email to MR, 19.02.2013
14 Email from Anthony Bruno to Marilyn Bardsley, 19.02.2013
15 Email from Marilyn Bardsley to Anthony Bruno, copied to MR, 19.02.2013
16 Email to MR, 19.02.2013

Mr Kidd wrote back to me. We had exchanged a few emails since I first made contact with him, and I advised him
that I was now seeking to contact the other individuals named in The Evil Within to discover whether they had received
contact from Mr Marriott in or prior to 2008. Mr Kidd seemed to be convinced, as I was increasingly convinced, that Mr
Marriott ought to have found it easy enough to contact the individuals he named in the acknowledgements to The Evil
Within:
If you care to look up PAUL B KIDD on GOOGLE you’ll find more than 100 pages with more than 1000 entries of
me which contain 5 publisher’s details, my business address of Paul B Kidd Publications with phone numbers
and email, my address and email at Radio 2UE and my personal details. And much, much more…17
Ms Bardsley wrote to me again on 21 February 2013:
Many thanks for your efforts here to uncover copyright violations. However, the only individual on this email
that has an ongoing relationship with truTV is Cora Van Olson. There is virtually nothing that the rest of us
can do to stop Trevor Marriott. Only Turner Broadcasting lawyers have the clout and resources to have any
impact on any copyright violations Marriott is guilty of as Turner is the copyright owner. The only help we
have been able to provide is that individually we have never been contacted by Marriott. If he had tried
to contact Court TV or truTV before his first book in 2008, the message would be sent to me and it wasn’t.
Therefore, Mr. Marriott is not being truthful about that story. Aside from Cora Van Olson who will probably
raise this issue with the people at truTV, there is nothing more that the rest of us can do.18
Cora Van Olson is a managing editor at truTV.
*****
On 24 January 2013, before I began looking into the content of Mr Marriott’s The Evil Within, I had noticed an
announcement on the Waterstones website. On the page devoted to Mr Marriott’s forthcoming Ripper book – Jack
the Ripper: the Secret Police Files – which was due to be published on 4 March 2013, a notice had appeared saying,
‘Publication Abandoned’19
I wrote to John Blake Publishing to ask whether this was the case (the book was still advertised for pre-sale on
amazon.co.uk, for example). I received a reply to this effect:
I can confirm that unfortunately this is the case, and this particular title will not be published. We are sorry
if we have caused any disappointment with this, but unfortunately we simply were not able to go ahead with
it.20
On 4 March 2013, the projected publication date of Jack the Ripper: the Secret Police Files, a discussion about the
non-appearance of this book began on the internet. One Casebook visitor contacted John Blake Publishing by telephone,
to be told that the publication had not been able to go ahead due to ‘legal issues’.21
On jtrforums.com, Mr Marriott advised that:
For some months now prior to the publication date being anounced by the publishers we have been trying to
agree on a final edit.
That agreement has not been reached and thefore the book will not be published by Blake Publishing.
I shall therfore be seeking a new publisher but not now till later in the year when I can include the results of
new ongoing research has been completed. The results of which I would not have been able to include in the
book had it been published as advertised.22
17 Email to MR, 19.02.2013

18 Email to MR, 21.02.2013
19 www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/products/trevor+marriott/jack+the+ripper+-+the+secret+police+files/9432550,
retrieved 24.01.2013
20 Email to MR, 25.01.2013
21 forum.casebook.org/showpost.php?p=255264&postcount=2
22 www.jtrforums.com/showpost.php?p=193040&postcount=3

But this did not account for the ‘legal issues’ which John Blake Publishing had mentioned. In a subsequent post, Mr
Marriott went on to say:
As to the legal issues they related to a chapter I wrote on the cabal and its members in which I used words
that end with the letter S to describe them, It was thought that was to strong for publication and I wouldnt
withdraw it.23
We ought not to confuse Mr Marriott’s provocative but rather tongue-in-cheek tone in this post with a statement of
truth. It was difficult to believe that Mr Marriott had used insults in the manuscript he had presented to the publishers,
and that he would not allow his book to be published unless they stood verbatim. Indeed, Mr Marriott had said himself
that he was now looking for a new publisher – it would have been foolish to suppose that he would do so hoping that the
‘insulting’ text he supposedly described would be taken up verbatim by another publisher.
In fact, in a private message, Mr Marriott revealed that he rejected the publishers’ suggestion that there had been
‘legal issues’ with the text.
There are no legal issues with regards to the new book whoever mentioned that at the publishers was
obvioulsy not fully in the know.24
It was now time to contact John Blake Publishing. Did they know that Mr Marriott held them culpable for the
idiosyncrasies which had emerged from an analysis of The Evil Within? And did they know that Mr Marriott considered
their reasons for not going ahead with the publication of Jack the Ripper: the Secret Police Files to be untrue? On 6
March 2013, I wrote to Clare Tillyer to find out; but there was no reply.
*****
On 15 March 2013, I went to Enfield to attend a talk Mr Marriott was giving. It was a cold, squally night, but the small
theatre was full – an audience of about a hundred – by the time Mr Marriott took to the stage. I recognised a handful
of people from the Whitechapel Society, and Mr Marriott also seemed to know that there were ‘Ripperologists’ in the
audience. He was, he said, glad to see them, and one thing one cannot deny about Mr Marriott is that he never seems
afraid of talking about his sometimes controversial ideas in front of informed audiences. Beyond the card-carrying
Ripperologists, several members of the audience admitted having read a Ripper book when asked about this by Mr
Marriott.
At the very outset, Mr Marriott established his position – ‘I believe that you’ve all been misled for 125 years’. He
proposed to detach the Ripper from the contextual myths in which he was surrounded, and had been for years. Anyone
left wondering whether they had been misled by (a) authors who knew no better, and who made careless mistakes
or developed arguments on poorly-conceived foundations, or (b) authors who had manipulated the evidence in order
to sustain an irresponsible position, and for commercial advantage, needed to wait only until the second half of the
performance to discover Mr Marriott’s meaning. Beyond books, films and documentaries were also held responsible for
having ‘misled’ the public.
But the reader can see that Mr Marriott’s initial claim set a high bar for him – he would need to demonstrate that his
own reasoning was not susceptible to the mistakes of his predecessors, and that he was not untruthful. Taking that into
account, the informed listener might have wondered whether it was really the case that there was any ‘doubt’ about
whether Annie Chapman’s intestines had been placed where they were found by her killer, or whether they had in fact
sprung there of their own accord when the abdominal cavity was opened. The report on the case carried by the Lancet
(Vol. 332, No. 3396, 29 September 1888) seems to make the issue clear, and I have been unable to find a book which
says that there is any cause to wonder how the intestines came to rest where they did. Was it fair to say that there
was ‘doubt’? Or would it have been fairer to say that Mr Marriott – perhaps – doubted that the intestines had arrived
in place by human agency, although nobody else doubted it? And how to account for the abdominal walls which had
similarly been found to one side? Had they sprung there, too? Was Mr Marriott’s presentation of this issue misleading?
Or, in the context of the evening’s talk, to a largely uninitiated audience, was it unfair to expect Mr Marriott to go into
detail about the doubts which he believed to exist? In the end, Mr Marriott did not say what he believed – only that he
believed that there was doubt.
23 www.jtrforums.com/showpost.php?p=193159&postcount=14
24 Private message, 06.03.2013
The question of the location of Annie Chapman’s intestines was only one example of this characteristic of Mr Marriott’s
presentation, which tended to simplify complicated issues, and the reader must decide whether this was for the benefit
of the audience, or to the detriment of its understanding of a story about which they had been ‘misled’ for a century
and a quarter. Catherine Eddowes’s facial mutilations were, Mr Marriott said, defence wounds; and, he went on, ‘recent
investigative work by myself clearly shows that [Eddowes] was not wearing an apron’. There was no indication that
either of these theories was largely disputed by other researchers with access to exactly the same source material.
Of course, Mr Marriott’s interpretation of the discovery of the piece of apron in Goulston Street remains one of his
most controversial ideas. Mr Marriott suggested that there were three ‘plausible’ explanations which accounted for the
discovery of the piece of apron in its place, and invited the audience to name them. The tension in the room increased
as Mr Marriott batted back some suggestions: answers he didn’t want, ideas such as the killer having used the apron as
an extemporary bandage after injuring himself, or the apron having been carried to Goulston Street by a dog. He must,
however, have been pleased to hear one member of the audience suggest that the piece of apron may have been used as
a sanitary device. Mr Marriott’s second and third ‘plausible’ suggestions were that Eddowes may have experienced post-
coital bleeding after contact with a client; and that the apron piece may have been taken to Goulston Street by DC Halse
of the City Police, either in order to imply to his co-investigators that the killer had run off back into Metropolitan Police
territory, or out of anti-Semitic prejudice. It seemed to me that some members of the audience were not persuaded that
their suggestions were less plausible than Mr Marriott’s.
Was Mary Jane Kelly’s heart missing from her room at Miller’s Court? Mr Marriott said that it was not. Was the modern
construction behind St Leonard’s in Shoreditch the mortuary to which Kelly’s body was taken? Mr Marriott said it was.
What chance have you got of being right, if you are choosing between the following options: (a) the killer came from
Whitechapel, and (b) the killer didn’t come from Whitechapel? Mr Marriott called it at ‘50/50’. He stated that ‘even in
1888 the police had more than an inkling about who had written [the Dear Boss] letter’. He expressed his displeasure
at other researchers, ‘who want to put forward certain suspects [and] will look at these witness statements and say,
“Ah, that fits my suspect!” It’s so narrow-minded.’ He stated that the author of the Openshaw letter – Mr Marriott calls
Openshaw Oppenshaw, due to a misreading – was shown to be a medical student by several textual features, one of
which was the use of the word ‘scalpul’: the writer ‘had written it before and spelled it correctly’. Likewise, anyone
aware of the uses of a microscope and its slides must have been a medical professional, or training to be one.
These are, let’s be clear, among my criticisms of the content of Mr Marriott’s talk. But my wider point is that all
of this followed Mr Marriott’s initial, contentious statement about the public having been ‘misled’. Were the public’s
misconceptions being corrected here? Wasn’t it better to present the balance of evidence and encourage the public to
make up their own minds? Or was Mr Marriott’s trademark bombast as misleading as any of the material to which his
audience had had previous access? By the time the second half of the talk commenced, Mr Marriott was firing on all
cylinders.
Mr Marriott resumed by asking his audience whether they had any pre-existing beliefs about the identity of the Ripper,
and several people did. Suspects such as Maybrick, Kosminski and Prince Eddy were mentioned; Mr Marriott said, ‘It
just goes to show how over the years people have tried to prop up these suspects, sometimes for their own agenda’.
Kosminski demanded some attention, but his candidacy was, Mr Marriott said, scuppered by the fact that Martin Fido
had determined that Aaron Kosminski’s biographical details did not match all of those in The Lighter Side of My Official
Life, the Macnaghten Memoranda and the Swanson Marginalia. I will only observe that, while this is not an entirely unfair
synopsis of Fido’s interpretation, the issue of Aaron Kosminski’s role within the narrative of the Whitechapel Murders is
rather more vexed than Mr Marriott indicated. ‘One particular researcher says that Aaron Kosminski was Jack the Ripper,’
Mr Marriott said, and I was unable to transcribe precisely what he said next (because I’m not a quick enough writer).
However, I did note that the effect of his remarks was that ‘the public are being misled and the evidence twisted to
particular agenda’25
The whole section on Kosminski was backed by an illustration taken from the map Jack’s London, published in the
1990s, but the fact that the illustration was not an authentic depiction of Kosminski was not mentioned.
25 My notes, 15.03.2013

George Chapman, Mr Marriott noted, ‘was responsible for a number of murders in Whitechapel, but not like the
Whitechapel Murders’. John Pizer entered the story when a leather apron was discovered in the backyard of 29 Hanbury
Street – ‘Somebody said, “Ah, Leather Apron!” ...So they went out and looked for him.’ As for Francis Tumblety, Mr
Marriott informed the audience that ‘Another Ripper researcher has gone out on a limb and suggested that Tumblety was
Jack the Ripper’. One of Tumblety’s encounters with a younger man, for which he was eventually charged, ‘occurred
on the same day as the Polly Nichols murder. Could he have been in two places at once?’ Mr Marriott announced that
his article, ‘Doctor at Sea’, published in Ripperologist 127, proved that Tumblety was in police custody on the night
Mary Kelly died – he did not mention the debate this provoked among other researchers, particularly in a lengthy thread
on Casebook, in the course of which several contributors stated that, in their view, Mr Marriott’s evidence fell short
of proof. In sum, Mr Marriott told the audience, ‘there is no evidence at all to point to Francis Tumblety,’ and the
researcher who brought Tumblety to public attention ‘really should know better, because he’s an ex-policeman’.
‘Prince Edward, the Duke of Clarence’ was dealt with swiftly: ‘I decided to try to clear this up at an early stage,’ said
Mr Marriott, and he described writing to the Queen, offering to exonerate her ancestor. ‘She was kind enough to get the
Royal Archives to provide me with evidence showing that the Prince was elsewhere at the times of the murders.’ There
was no indication that this work had been done years before Mr Marriott repeated it. Besides this, the Royal Conspiracy
stumbled on its own filmic iconography: ‘The back streets of Whitechapel wouldn’t take a carriage. There probably
wouldn’t have been room for a carriage to get through.’
According to Mr Marriott, the Maybrick Diary foundered on one of Michael Barrett’s confessions to his solicitors; I
recommend he give his attention to The Ripper Diary by Linder, Morris and Skinner: even if it doesn’t change his mind
about the authenticity of the Diary, it might cause him to think again about Mr Barrett’s role in events. Walter Sickert,
meanwhile, was ‘brought into the mystery by Patricia Cornwell’, who ‘upset the art world’ when she ‘bought a lot of
[Sickert’s] paintings and set about tearing them up’. And so it went.
Of course, Mr Marriott also had to cover his adventures with the Secret Police Files, the very subject about which he
had written a so-far unpublished book. He lamented the decision of the tribunal which prevented him from accessing the
files: ‘The two lay members stuck up for the police and automatically accepted that what the police said was correct’.
But, in spite of this, Mr Marriott advised the audience that ‘We shouldn’t get too carried away when looking at these
entries in police registers’. I wondered whether this message, managing the audience’s expectations, would have been
the same in the event of the publication of the book at the advertised time, nearly two weeks before.
And lastly to The Evil Within. It wasn’t wrong for Mr Marriott to finish with an advertisement for the books published
in his name, but he alluded to The Evil Within in these terms: ‘Sixty-seven of the world’s worst serial killers that I’ve
documented in there.’ Documented seemed to me to be a pretty neutral choice of word. I looked at him from where I
sat, but Mr Marriott was caught up in the throes of his conclusion, and I came to the decision that nothing in this essay
had made any difference at all.
Acknowledgements
Among others, I am very pleased to acknowledge the help and support of Paul B Kidd, Mark Gado, Rachael Bell,
Marilyn Bardsley, David Lohr and James Card.
MARK RIPPER lives in the East End. Under the name M W Oldridge, he is the author of Murder and
Crime: Whitechapel and District (The History Press, 2011) and The Moat Farm Mystery: The Life and
Criminal Career of Samuel Herbert Dougal (The History Press, 2012).

CHRIS SCOTT’S
Press Trawl
Cleveland Street Scandal Special Part 2
The Times
9 January 1890
At Bow street yesterday, before Mr Vaughan (in the Extradition Court), Mr Arthur Newton, Frederick Taylerson,
his clerk; and Adolphus De Galla, an interpreter, appeared to an adjourned summons charging them with conspiracy
to pervert and defeat the ends of justice in connexion with a charge preferred against certain persons alleged to
have been implicated in offences at 19 Cleveland street.
Mr Horace Avory (instructed by Sir A.K. Stevenson), the Hon. William Cuffe, and Mr Angus Lewis prosecuted on
behalf of the Treasury; Mr C.F. Gill defended Mr Newton; and Mr St. John Wonter appeared for Taylerson and Dr
Galla.
The witness William Perkins was recalled and further cross examined by Mr Gill, and deposed to the meeting
with De Galla, already mentioned in evidence. He denied that he had seen the police to speak about the case
since his examination in chief. He was pressed by Mr Gill in cross examination as to his memory concerning the
interview with De Galla. He averred that De Galla had returned and said that he would like to go somewhere and
have a quiet talk. They went to a third public house and into a private parlour. When he (De Galla) came back he
said to the boys, “I shall want you to start tonight.” he did not say, “I shall tell you later on.”
Mr Gill - What did he say about the case? Did he ask who it was who had made the first statement? Witness did
not remember that; it was stated that Newlove had first made a statement. Swinscow might have said that he had
first made a statement at the police office at the Post Office before Hanks, who had said that if he did not tell
the truth as to where he got the money he would do five years like all other Post Office thieves. Witness did not
remember Swinscow saying so. He did not tell De Galla that he had been taken to watch the house in Cleveland
street. He did not hear Swinscow say that he had been taken by the police to a place near Oxford street.
Mr Gill - Anything said about a church near Oxford street? Witness - No.
Did one of you say that you had been taken by the police and had pointed people out? Witness - No.
Mr Vaughan - I do not see that this cross examination is relevant.
Mr Gill said that De Galla was acting under instructions not to get the boys away, but to obtain information that
otherwise would not have been obtained.
Witness said he had seen Mr Slater, solicitor, but he did not know he was Mr Parkes’s (the defendant in the
prosecution for libel by Lord Euston) solicitor. He did not remember giving De Galla the address of Mr Slater.
Mr Gill suggested that the boy’s memory was better on Tuesday than now.
Mr Avory objected to such a suggestion, as it implied that the boy had been threatened.
Mr Gill said the threats had certainly not emanated from those he represented, but from another quarter.
Mr Vaughan requested Mr Gill not to make such remarks.
Cross examination continued. De Galla had left, and then he returned he said the boat was full and they could
not go that night. Witness had expressed a wish to write to his mother, and De Galla said, “You may all write if you
like.” The letters were given him and were posted. Witness was doubtful about his going abroad as Thickbroom
had not appeared, and clothes had not been supplied. They suspected that they were being made fools of. They
asked at different times who was going to do anything for them. Dr Galla said they were under age and there
might be a good deal of trouble - like Dr. Barnardo’s - to bring them back. Witness did not remember either of the
boys saying that during their suspension they had 12s a week. Swinscow said he had had £8 12s in a lump, and that
he had gone home to his father, who had threatened to kick him out. He was anxious to go away.

In re-examination by Mr Avory the witness said from first to last Mr Newton and De Galla had never asked him
for any information about the case at Cleveland street.
M. Seraphin Pollet, 55 Rue Vouck, Brussels, said he was a jobmaster. He remembered being hailed by two
gentlemen in front of the Hotel Meuchelle in the Rue Royale, about three months ago. Those gentlemen he
recognised as Mr Newton and Taylerson, whom he saw opposite to him in court. He drove them to a money
changer’s in the Passage St. Hubert, and afterwards to the Northern Railway Station. They waited for the train
from Luxembourg, when they met a gentleman with a boy of 14 or 15. The photograph of Hammond, the man who
kept the house in Cleveland street, was that of the gentleman who was recognised by the witness as that of the
man who arrived with the boy. They brought with them a quantity of luggage, and Mr Newton told the witness to
get a closed carriage. This was done and he conveyed them all to the Hotel Bordeaux. Here they remained for
some three quarters of an hour and then Mr Newton came out and asked him if he knew a small station on the
way to Antwerp celled Vilvordin. To this station he drove Hammond and the boy. The journey would take between
an hour and a half and two hours. His passengers then left in the next train for Antwerp.
Mr Gill did not cross examine the witness.
M. Hector Pola, Rue de la Lapelle, Antwerp, in the service of the Red Star Line, deposed that he remembered
the steamer Pennland sailing on the 5th of October for New York. He remembered two persons sailing with Cook’s
tickets. The tickets were for two adults and one young man.
Mr Avory - Do you see either of those passengers here? Witness - That dark gentleman with the turned up
moustache. (The witness indicated Mr Newton as the passenger and Taylerson as having paid the balance of the
passage money.) The witness identified Hammond’s photograph as the passenger mentioned. If it was not Mr
Newton the photograph was very much like him.
Otho von Eller, clerk in the Red Star Line, Antwerp, remembered the ship Pennland sailing for New York. He
remembered changing a Cook’s ticket for a steamer ticket for a man (the witness identified Taylerson as having
changed the ticket). The ticket contained three names. It was returned to Cook and Son. The passenger with
Taylerson had a dark moustache. Witness could not recognise him, but the photograph of Hammond looked like
the man.
By Mr Wontner - The name “Mr Fred Taylerson” was on the ticket.
By Mr Avory - The other names were Mr Charles and Arthur Bulton.
Mr Crossney, manager of the branch office of Messrs. Cook and Son, 82 Oxford street, deposed that he knew Mr
Newton, and remembered Taylerson’s face. Either one or the other came for passages to America on the 4th of
October by the Pennland, steamer, which sailed the following day. Berths were reserved to the name of Taylerson.
According to the voucher Taylerson at the time handed Mr Arthur Newton’s card.
George Wright, 30 Bromehead street, Commercial road, E., deposed that he was formerly in the service of the
Post Office and was dismissed on the 6th of December last. He identified Hammond’s photograph. The witness in
effect confirmed the evidence of the previous witnesses in connexion with the meeting with De Galla in Poland
street, when the contemplated voyage to Australia was mentioned. After some further evidence the case was
again adjourned.
The Times
10 January 1890
At Bow street Police Court, yesterday, Mr Arthur Newton, solicitor; Frederick Taylerson, his clerk; and Adolphus
De Galla, an interpreter, again attended before Mr Vaughan to answer to adjourned summonses charging them
with conspiracy to defeat the ends of justice. Mr Avory prosecuted; Mr C.F. Gill appeared for Mr Newton; and Mr
St. John Wontner appeared for the other defendants.
The witness Wright was recalled, and said, in answer to Mr Avory, that he and his companions were led to
believe they would meet “somebody.” In answer to Mr Gill, the witness admitted that he had been to Cleveland
street once.
Mr Gill said he did not think it necessary to go further into the character of the witness, who was 19 years of
age, and admitted his complicity in offences prior to his visits to Cleveland street. Such evidence should not, he
remarked, be accepted in a charge against any human being.

Charles Thomas Swinscoe (sic) was the next witness. He also had been to the house in Cleveland street, and
gave corroborative evidence as to the contemplated departure of himself and companions for Australia.
Cross examined by Mr Gill, the witness aid he was the first to make a statement. He had been found in
possession of money, and Hanks (the Post Office constable) told him he must tell him where he obtained the
money. He could not say that he had exactly told the whole truth. He had told Hanks that he had only been in the
house twice. That was a lie. He had been there five times. He had told the lie, as he did not think there would be
any bother about it. He had sworn an information, and then it was that he knew there would be a bother about it.
In the information he had sworn that he had only been to the house twice. He had turned round to speak Inspector
Abberline and intended to ask him whether he should say that he had been to the house five times, when the
usher told him to look on and listen. He had sworn on the information, and had said he had never been to the
house again, although Newlove on one occasion had asked him to go. He knew that he was swearing falsely. The
reason he did not say anything to the inspector (Abberline) was because the usher of the Court told him to listen.
He had not previously told Abberline that the story was untrue. Thickbroom knew the story was false. There was
nobody in Court when he swore the information, and he did not think it was read over to him before he went into
Court.
After an adjournment for luncheon, the examination of the boy Swinscow was proceeded with. He said that for
five months, from July to December, he was doing nothing. His father had asked Constable hanks as to when the
case would be over, and what would then become of witness. When witness was dismissed his father did say he
would kick him out of his place. He had frequently said he would do so. Having been dismissed, witness was very
anxious to go away somewhere. He told De Galla what his father had said. Before he met De Galla he had not old
his mother that he was going away. Witness remembered telling De Galla that he and Thickbroom, when with the
police, had seen and pointed out Lord Arthur Somerset. When they saw Lord Arthur Somerset they did not know
what his name was. De Galla had asked witness who had seen him about the case. He told him somebody had
been to see him about the libel case. Witness was told not to mention any names, as he might get himself into
trouble. That was before he went to swear the information against Lord Arthur Somerset. He did not remember
who it was who told him that. Thickbroom had told him about Lord ____ (witness began to mention the name,
but before the word could be caught he was stopped by Mr Gill, who said he did not want any conversation that
had taken place between witness and Thickbroom.) Witness remembered De Galla speaking about the necessity
of getting the parents’ consent for witness and his companions to go abroad. Wright and Perkins told De Galla
that they knew their parents would not object. He remembered also De Galla saying that he would not send them
away, as it might be another case like Dr. Barnardo’s.
Re-examined by Mr Avory - When witness went home after seeing Dr Galla he found that his letter had already
been given by his mother to the police. Dr Galla had said a lady and clergyman had taken an interest in witness
and his companions. Something was then said about the clergyman being Lord Arthur Somerset’s father, but
witness did not know whether De Galla heard that or not. On being further pressed, witness said he thought De
Galla said it was Lord Arthur Somerset’s father. Witness was anxious that his name should be wrongly given. That
was not because of what might happen at the coffee house to which he was taken by De Galla, but because if his
name was recognised when he got abroad he might not get any work.
Some discussion arose on this question, Mr Gill objecting that Mr Avory had interpreted what the witness had
said.
Mr Vaughan said he thought it was a fair interpretation.
Mr Gill said he maintained that with such a witness he ought to have the exact words of the answer. It was
lamentable thing that a prosecution should be started on such evidence.
Mr Avory said that remark might explain why earlier proceedings were not taken in this matter.
Cross examination continued. Witness had frequently had conversation with Thickbroom about the mentioning
of names. Thickbroom said it (referring to an individual) was Lord _____.
Mr Avory, interposing - He said it was somebody else. And then, go on, please.
The witness proceeded to state that he could not tell the date he went to Watlington or Wallington to find
Hammond. It was on July 4 that Hanks had asked him where he had obtained the money he had been spending
lately. He made a statement in writing as to where he received the money.

Mr Parke, editor of the North London Observer, produced six letters alleged to be from Hammond. The witness
said he had also a number of other letters and photographs which were at the disposal of the prosecution.
Mr Avory suggested that it would be better to submit them to the Public Prosecutor.
Mr Parke said he was quite willing to do so. He produced a list of 26 letters and photographs, to be produced
if necessary.
Edward Aldridge, coffee house keeper, Edgeware road, identified Wright, Swinscow, and Perkins as having
stayed at his house.
The case was further adjourned.
The Times
11 January 1890
At Bow street, yesterday, the charge of conspiracy to defeat the ends of justice again occupied the attention of
Mr Vaughan. As before, the defendants were represented by Mr Gill and Mr St. John Wontner, the former appearing
for Mr Newton, solicitor, of Great Marlborough street; and the latter for Mr Newton’s clerk, Taylerson, and for M.
De Galla, an interpreter. Mr Avory prosecuted on behalf of the Treasury,.
The first witnesses called were the mothers of the boys who had already given evidence. The most important
was Mrs. Allies, of Sudbury, Suffolk. She stated that since the time her son was taken from home by the police, in
order to give evidence in the Cleveland street case, she had not been allowed to see him unless somebody else
was present. His father had lost his situation through the rumours that had got spread about Sudbury, and witness
had expressed the wish that her son should be allowed to return home to contradict these rumours, even if he
were only allowed to say for a day. She certainly thought her son was being frightened by the police, and was
being detained against his will. She also thought the letters he had sent home were suggested or dictated to him.
In answer to Mr Avory, the witness said she had objected to the suggestion that her son should go abroad, as
both she and his father were getting old. She was 66 and her husband was older.
Ernest Allies, another son of Mrs. Allies, said he remembered De Galla’s visit the day after his brother Algernon
had been taken up to town by the police. He remembered De Galla’s asking if his brother had left any letters
behind him, or if any had been taken away from him. Witness told him his brother had destroyed all his letters the
day before the police came. Witness identified Taylerson as the person who called on the second occasion, and
had a conversation with Mrs. Allies about her son Algernon going abroad. Mrs. Allies said she did not wish her son
to go away. Taylerson asked for Algernon’s address, and witness gave it to him.
By Mr Gill - It had been reported in Sudbury that witness’s brother was in prison. They wished him to show
himself in order to disprove this. Referring to the letter written by his brother to the effect that it would be
better not to see his father and mother, he did not think he had such principles in him. Witness had let his brother
know that he though the police had dictated the letters. A letter was written by witness to Mr Newton, asking
that his brother might come home, if only for a day or two, to show himself, in order to contradict rumours that
he was undergoing a term of 12 months’ imprisonment, Witness alleged that Hanks was the worse for drink, and
complaint was made of his conduct. Inquiries were made by an inspector of Scotland yard.
By Mr Vaughan - Taylerson spoke about wanting witness’s brother to go abroad.
William Allies, of Sudbury, the father, was called, and deposed to seeing Taylerson, who had said that he had
come from London, as some persons wished to do his son some good and to help him to retrieve his character.
Witness was inclined to assent in consequence of the disgraceful talk there was in Sudbury.
By Mr Gill - When witness saw Taylerson he had said he could not understand why his son had not come home,
and had expressed his opinion that he would do so if he were acting of his own free will without being influenced.
He had remarked that a letter purporting to come from his son had not been written by him without dictation. No
child of his had been or ever had cause to be afraid of him. This he told Taylerson. Until the boy got into the hands
of the police he was never afraid of witness. He was most anxious to get his son home. The whole affair caused
great misery to witness, his wife and son, and he had said to Taylerson it would be a merciful thing if something
could be done to put an end to the matter. He would have been glad for him to get away from the scandal. Mr
Newton had told him that the police had no power to detain the boy, and they had then repeated what was his
conviction - that if his son were a free agent he would return home. The only time witness’s wife had seen her son

was in the presence of the two detectives. He had all along desired to have his son at home. Witness had lost his
employment in consequence of the scandal.
Mr Gill (referring to the letter the lad Allies had written to his parents to the effect that he was old enough to
act on his own responsibility, and was not acting under the influence of the police.) - Had you the slightest doubt
that that letter was concocted by the police? The witness - Not the slightest (emphatically), and I must say that.
He had complained of Hanks’s conduct to Sir Augustus Stephenson. He was given to understand that his son utterly
refused to see him.
Mr Gill - When Taylerson left you wished him to see your son? - The witness - Yes.
Mr Gill - You gave him full authority? - Yes; I wished him to do whatever he thought proper. He was to do
anything that was necessary to get my son home.
By Mr Avory - Witness’s anxiety was to get his son home to stop the scandal in the town of Sudbury, which was
a small place. He did not remember Taylerson’s suggesting that his son should go to America. Witness did not
remember that Hammond’s name was mentioned. Witness first thought the police were dictating to his son after
Taylerson’s visit.
A number of letters between Mr Newton and the Treasury having been read, Inspector Abberline was called. He
said - I am an inspector of police at Scotland yard. On the 6th of July last I obtained a warrant for the arrest of
Charles Hammond and Henry Horace Newlove. I arrested Newlove on July 7, and then found that Hammond had
disappeared. I afterwards traced him abroad, and with the assistance of the foreign police kept observation upon
his as far as possible.
Mr Avory - For that purpose did you send over the photograph produced of him? - Chief Inspector Greenham
took it.
Mr Vaughan asked if there was any evidence that this was the photograph of Hammond.
Mr Gill said one of the witnesses had sworn to it.
Witness continued - I handed the photograph to Inspector Greenham, who went away with it. On October 4 I
served Allies, Swinscoe, Thickbroom and Palmer with subpoenas. I am not quite sure about Perkins and Wright. It
was a subpoena to give evidence on October 4.
Mr Gill objected, and asked for the original to be produced.
Witness said he had it at his office, but not with him.
Examination continued - Since the time Allies came to London he has been under my observation, more
particularly since October 25. I arrested Veck and found certain documents on him which caused me to send down
to Sudbury and cause the boy Allies to be brought to London.
As far as you know, had this boy Allies, while living in London, been threatened by the police? - Certainly not.
It is not true that he had been commanded not to leave the place or been told what to say in his letters to his
father. He had never been dictated to in any way, as far as I know. It is not true that he had not been supplied
with clothes. I have supplied money to find him in clothes.
Is there any truth that Allies was told that if he went away he would be locked for? - Certainly not. He only
appeared too pleased to remain.
Did you see his mother on November 12 at the Marlborough street Police court? - Yes, and before that - before
Newlove and Veck were committed for trial. She saw her son on both occasions. No obstacle was placed in her
way as to seeing him without my presence.
Do you mean in September or November? - In November, as there had been an attempt to get the boy away,
there would have been some little difficulty, as the Commissioner had given certain orders. On that occasion the
mother saw the boy in the passage of the Court when we were all together. About half past 4 on September 25
Allies came to our office at Whitehall and made a statement to me, in consequence of which I took him across to
the Treasury. That same evening I went with the boy to Tottenham Court road. (Witness here detailed his following
the boy and the defendant Taylerson to the Marlborough Head public house.) In the Marlborough Head I said to
Taylerson, “What is your name?” He replied, “What is that to do with you?” I said, “I shall not leave till I know who
you are.” He then said, “My name is Frederick Taylerson; I am 24, over the way.” I said, “Are you not Mr Newton’s
clerk?” and he said, “Yes.” I said, “What are you doing with this lad?” He said, “I shall answer no questions.” I
handed the lad over to Police constable Hanks, and left.

Did you say who you were? - I am not quite positive. I had seen Taylerson before. I thought I had seen him in
the Court speak to Mr Newton once or twice.
Did you see anything of a bag? - I have a recollection of seeing a girl move a bag - a travelling bag - as if she
were going to pass it over the bar. That was my impression; but I was excited. It was a girl, or a young woman,
or might have been the landlady. I saw De Galla at the door as I entered. I have known him for years. I saw him
at Marlborough street on nearly every occasion when the case of Newlove and Veck was on. He appeared to be
there only as a spectator.
Cross examined by Mr Gill - The warrant against Hammond is for misdemeanour. That is the only warrant I know
of against him. There is no extradition warrant. That against Lord Arthur Somerset is also for misdemeanour. I
first came into the case on the 5th of July. The statements of the boys had been previously taken and forwarded
to us by the Postmaster General. Those were the statements of Wright, Thickbroom and Swinscoe. New love’s
statement was also forwarded on the same date. I knew that all these boys were allowed to go away after making
their statements. I arrested Newlove on the 7th of July, when he then told me that Hammond had left the house
in Cleveland street on the morning of the 5th of July. At that time I had control of the case myself. I saw what I
thought was best to be done in the matter and -
The prosecution was yours? - It was initiated by me. Mr Newton did not appear in the case until the remand
on the 15th of July. No evidence was taken then, or on the first day, beyond reading over one of the boys’ sworn
informations. ON the 15th I asked for a further remand, having been instructed to do so. Mr Pollard, of the
Treasury, asked me to get the further remand.
From that point did it cease to be a police prosecution? - Well, we considered it then to be in the hands of the
Treasury to see who should be prosecuted. It was subsequently referred back to the Police Commissioners from
the Home Office authorities to decide who was to conduct the prosecution. It was about the 25th or 26th of July
that I was sent for by the Treasury. No evidence all that time was taken. Numerous inquiries were made, but the
case was remanded from week to week. No evidence was taken until the 20th of August.
Mr Avory objected to these questions as irrelevant.
Mr Gill said the charge was one of arresting the course of justice, and he wished to show what the course
of justice in this really case was. (To witness) All this time this boy Newlove was remanded on these sworn
informations? - Yes.
During all that time no other warrant was applied for except against Veck? - No.
And he was arrested the day after the granting of the warrant? - The next day.
From the 20th of August to September there were several long hearings in the police court? - Yes.
And on the 11th of September was the committal? - Yes.
And during all that time you saw these boys, and they were always available if you required them for the
purpose of applying for warrants? - Certainly.
These defendants were brought up at the end of the day? - Yes.
Is it usual to do that at the Old Bailey? - I believe so, when indictments have been found during the day.
During this time Newlove had made a confession? - Yes.
And the prosecution were represented by Mr Poland and the facts fully stated? - Yes, and by you for the defence.
Yes; by myself and Mr Mathews for the defence, and with the result that Veck was sentenced to nine months’
and Newlove to five months’, both having pleaded guilty? - Yes.
For the remainder of that month - the whole of October - there was no application for any warrant against any
one? - No.
None from the 19th of August to the 12th of November? - No.
Were you annoyed that the case had not attracted much attention? - No, certainly not. I never complained of
such a thing to any one. After September 25 I told Allies, to prevent any further unpleasantness, that all letters
had better be addressed to him through me. I deny that the letters he sent to his father were ever dictated to
him. The first intimation I had of the letter produced (it was printed recently), addressed by him to his father, was
when I read it in the newspapers. I have not seen any of his letters. When I saw Taylerson with the boy (Allies) I
did not say I should take him where he would have to give his name. I told him I should not leave him until I knew

his name. (The witness produced his pocket book in which he had taken note of Taylerson’s name, which he said
he understood to be given as Taylor.)
Mr Gill asked the names of those who had joined in the information against Lord Arthur Somerset, and whether
those witnesses were not prepared to make the same statements in July? - No, not all the witnesses.
Mr Gill - But you have your note book, which contains the names? Witness - Yes, and there are other things in
my book I would not wish you to see.
Mr Gill - Yes, I can quite understand.
The witness was then cross examined as to the interview at the Marlborough Head public house between
witness, Taylerson, and the boy Allies. Hanks was there and alleged that he saw Mr Newton and another gentleman
outside hurrying away.
At ten minutes to 6 the case was further adjourned.
The Times
13 January 1890
At Bow street on Saturday, before Mr Vaughan, Mr Newton, solicitor, of Great Marlborough street; Mr Frederick
Taylerson, his clerk; and Mr Adolphus De Galla appeared for further examination on the charge of conspiracy to
defeat the ends of justice.
Mr Horace Avory, instructed by Sir A.K. Stevenson, the Hon. H Cuffe, and Mr Angus Lewis prosecuted on behalf of
the Treasury; Mr C.F. Gill defended Mr Newton; and Mr St. John Wontner defended Messrs. Taylerson and De Galla.
Inspector Abberline was recalled and further cross examined by Mr Gill. He stated that he was cognizant of
what was being done by the authorities in the Cleveland street case. It has been under the notice of the Foreign
Office with reference to Hammond, and witness had seen a copy of a letter in reply to the Commissioners from the
Foreign Office. That was after it was decided who was to have the conduct of the case - the police or the Treasury.
Witness received instructions from the Chief Commissioner, the Assistant Commissioner, and various gentlemen at
the Treasury, Sir Augustus Stephenson, the Hon. H Cuffe, and Mr Lewis. Witness denied that he had any knowledge
of the dismissal of the boys from the Post Office. He had stated to the authorities all the information he had and
all the names that had been mentioned, and every document that had been found. These reports were made to
the Commissioner.
By Mr Avory - There was no ground for suggesting that witness had expressed his regret that greater publicity
had not been given to the case. Newlove had made a confession which was embodied in the information submitted
to the magistrate. At that time witness did not know where Hammond was.
Mr Avory asked the witness as to his knowledge of the consideration by the Foreign Office as to Hammond’s
extradition.
Mr Gill objected to any expression of opinion from the witness, otherwise he submitted that it would be
competent for him in cross examination to elicit what the witness must be fully cognizant of - that it had been
advised by the highest authorities that the case should not be proceeded with.
Mr Vaughan thought Mr Avory’s questions admissible, but suggested that they should not be pressed. Informations
were sworn on July 6, August 19, October 6, and on November 12, one against Hammond.
Formal evidence was given proving the letters sent by the Treasury Solicitor to Mr Newton.
Police constable Hanks, one of the constables of the Metropolitan Police attached to the Post Office, deposed to
the statements taken in the case and to his visit to Sudbury to fetch Allies for the purpose of being interrogated at
the Treasury. He remained in lodgings in London. The witness deposed to the meeting of Allies and Taylerson in the
Tottenham Court road, and the subsequent visit to the Marlborough Head public house, to which place they were
followed by witness and Abberline. The witness averred that he saw Newton three or four yards beyond the public
house in company with a gentlemen. They hurriedly crossed the street when Abberline went into the public house
and entered Foubert’s place. Witness followed, saw them at the corner, and then returned. De Galla was seen to
go in an opposite direction. The witness generally confirmed the evidence already given as to what transpired at
the public house (already reported) and to the subsequent removal of the boy Allies to other lodgings. Witness had
never threatened the boy, and had not told him what to say in his letters to his father.

By Mr Gill - Witness was a party to the information against Mr Newton, and had sworn to seeing Mr Newton on
the particular occasion mentioned above. Witness had a great respect for Mr Newton.
The witness was minutely cross examined as to whether it was actually Mr Newton that he had seen. He averred
that he was, and that he was accompanied by a taller gentleman whom witness did not know. He was fair. The boy
Allies was treated as a perfectly free agent and was told that he must know whether he was under any influence.
Allies’s father had complained of witness, but on an inquiry being made witness was exonerated.
Mr Avory said that Police constable Sladden was present if it was desired that he should be called. This was the
case for the prosecution.
Mr Gill did not wish to call him or even to cross examine him.
The case was adjourned until Thursday week.
The Times
16 January 1890
Mr Ernest Parke, 29, described as a journalist, surrendered to his recognizances and was indicted for unlawfully
and maliciously printing and publishing in a newspaper called the North London Press a false, malicious, and
defamatory libel concerning the Earl of Euston. A second count in the indictment charged him with publishing
another libel on Lord Euston. The defendant pleaded “Not Guilty,” and presented a plea of justification, alleging
that the libels complained of were true in fact, and were published for the public benefit. The case excited much
interest, and the court was crowded. Sir Charles Russell, Q.C., Mr Charles Mathews, and Mr Lionel Hart were
counsel for the prosecution; Mr Lockwood, Q.C., and Mr Asquith for the defence.
Sir Charles Russell, Q.C., in opening the case, said the charge preferred against the defendant was that of
having printed and published a very serious libel, partly, although not solely, directed against Lord Euston. The
jury might possibly be aware that recent legislation had extended, and he conceived very properly extended,
considerable protection to those responsible for the contents of newspapers, and the law now required that
before a criminal prosecution could be instituted against a newspaper the fiat of a Judge of the Superior Court
should be obtained, which fiat amounted to a judicial expression of opinion that the case was one which could be
properly dealt with by a criminal prosecution. That this was a case of very serious character could not be doubted,
the libel being of a very serious nature; but it was made still more serious and required all the more the anxious
attention of the jury because of the fact that the defendant had thought proper not only tom plead not guilty of
writing and publishing the libel, but he had also added a plea of justification that the libel itself was true. If it
were necessary or possible in a case of that kind to discuss the matter in any technical spirit, it might have been
his duty to call the attention of the learned Judge to the form and character and scope of the plea, but when once
that plea was put in, and whether the plea was good or bad, it was felt to be the duty of Lord Euston and those
who advised him to make no reference to difficulties of that kind, but to meet the alleged justification openly
and uprightly. The defendant was the proprietor and editor of the North London Press, and the publication which
constituted the libel, the subject matter of the indictment, appeared on Saturday, November 16 last. He proposed
at that stage simply to confine himself to the baldest narration of the facts, without attempting to discuss what
might have been the motive of the defendant, whether worthy or unworthy, or whether he was actuated by
any motive at all. It was now unhappily the notorious fact that for some time past the house, No 19, Cleveland
street, in the neighbourhood of Tottenham Court road, conducted by a man named John Hammond, had been
used for purposes of the most nefarious kind. The libel related to that house, and associated Lord Euston’s name
with it and practices there carried on. Lord Euston desired that they should know the full facts of the case as he
would depose to them in the witness box, and as he had already testified to them when the case was inquired
into before the police magistrate. Lord Euston would tell them that, at the end of May or the beginning of June
last, he was walking in the neighbourhood of Piccadilly when he had thrust into his hand by some man or boy,
who seemed to have other similar things in his hand, a card on which was printed the name of “Hammond, 19
Cleveland street,” with the words in writing, “Poses Plastiques.” Lord Euston took the card and put it on the table
or chimney piece of his dressing room, and about a week after - prompted it might be by a prurient curiosity - he
did unquestionably go to 19 Cleveland street. On entering the house, the door of which was opened to him (Sir
Charles presumed) by Hammond, payment of a half sovereign was demanded. Lord Euston said he had come to
see the “Poses Plastiques.” He was told that there were no “Poses Plastiques,” but a statement was made to him

at which he was most indignant, and he told the man to open the door, and said he would knock him down if he
did not. He left the place there and then, and had never been there since; and that was his entire and solitary
connexion with the house, No 19 Cleveland street. The mode of enticing visitors to the house might have been
for the purpose of practising what the French called chantage, or blackmailing - that was to say, extorting money
from persons who had been weak enough to resort to that place. That was, in any case, the beginning and the
end of Lord Euston’s connexion with the house. Later in the year Lord Euston heard his name mentioned, and he
straightway did what an honourable man would do - he took the best advice he could, the advice of a gentleman
very well known for his good sense. On November 16, when the libel appeared in the North London Press, Lord
Euston, with the utmost confidence, instructed his solicitor, who applied for the necessary fiat, and the fiat having
been granted the proceedings were instituted by an application for a warrant. The defendant, having heard that
the application had been made, went to the Bow street Police Court and offered to surrender himself, and that
matter came before the magistrate. The inquiry took place on November 25 and 26, and the defendant was
committed to take his trial at that Court.
Sir C. Russell here read the alleged libel (which has already been published.) It was headed “The West End
Scandals,” and asserted that among the number of aristocrats who were mixed up in an indescribably loathsome
scandal in Cleveland street was the Earl of Euston, who, it was believed, had departed to Peru. The paper
proceeded to comment on men of position being allowed to leave the country and defeat the ends of justice
because their prosecution would inculpate more highly placed and distinguished personages.
Sir Charles Russell, resuming, said he should be somewhat curious to know, when it came to the turn of
his learned friend, what was the evidence which the defendant had in his possession at the time when that
scandalous statement was made to justify the publication. It was implied that Lord Euston had left the country
in order to escape from a warrant issued against him by the authorities, and had gone to Peru. There was not a
single word of truth in that statement. It was not true that any charge had been made, and no warrant was issued
or applied for, and up to the present moment no such suggestion had been made from any quarter. Nor was it true
that Lord Euston had left the country, impelled by the desire to escape or any other reason. Except in 1882, when
he visited a sick relative at Biarritz, Lord Euston had not been out of England for eight or nine years. The matter
was inquired into at the police court, and the defendant had made appeals for public sympathy and support of a
monetary kind in the position in which he was placed. He himself was not complaining of that. The defendant had
the great advantage of being represented at the police court by Mr Lockwood and Mr Asquith, who represented
him that day. Referring to the proceedings at the police court, Sir C. Russell said there was not a particle of cross
examination directed to call Lord Euston’s attention or to challenge his statement that on no occasion, except
the one about which he had told them, had Lord Euston ever visited Cleveland street at all. Therefore, from the
time the defendant was committed for trial the mode in which the defence was conducted gave no information
to Lord Euston or particulars of the matters alleged against him. The plea of justification was put in on December
19, and on December 20 and 21 the prosecution were furnished with a copy of it. Sir C. Russell then referred to
the plea of justification, which commenced by alleging that in May, 1887, Lord Euston, knowing the character of
the house, went there. Lord Euston had heard that for the first time. The plea went on to assert that Lord Euston
had visited the house on other occasion in May and June, 1888, and in May, June, and July, 1889, for improper
purposes. Lord Euston emphatically denied all that and further swore that he had never before of the names of
the persons John Saul and Frank Hewett, in whose company he was alleged to have been. The plea proceeded to
allege that two persons, named George Daniel Veck and Henry Horace Newlove, were prosecuted at that Court
in July for acts of impropriety at the house in question, and sentenced to imprisonment, and that Lord Euston
having learnt of the arrest of these persons and knowing his own associations with the house, left the kingdom to
escape prosecution in July and went to foreign parts. There was no foundation for that statement. No charge had
ever been made against Lord Euston, and no warrant had been applied for. With the exception of visiting Biarritz
in 1882 Lord Euston had not been out of the kingdom. The defence had vaguely and without particularity made
certain charges, and he proposed to follow the course pursued in leading cases of a similar kind - that was, to call
Lord Euston as a witness after the attempt had been made to show what were the grounds for putting forward
that most serious plea of justification. He should have an opportunity of cross examining the witnesses, and he
would then call Lord Euston, who would give a clear and circumstantial denial, and whom his learned friend Mr
Lockwood would have an opportunity of cross examining. Sir C. Russell said that was the course he proposed to
take unless the learned Judge expressed any contrary opinion.
Mr Justice Hawkins - I do not think I ought to express any opinion.
Me. Edward Henslow Bedford, solicitor, of 9 King’s Bench walk, Temple, deposed that on Saturday, November
16, he purchased a copy of the North London Press of that date. He read the article headed “West End Scandals”.
He knew Lord Euston, and showed him the paper on November 18. They both mentioned the office of Mr George
Lewis, solicitor, and Lord Euston instructed him to commence a prosecution.
Walter Shephard, a printer, of 27 Chancery lane, deposed that from the first week in November he printed
the North London Press. The defendant came to him in October and said he wished him to take up the printing
for him, and said he was the proprietor and editor of the paper. Witness printed the paper from the first week in
November; 4,500 copied of the issue containing the libel were printed.
Edward Adams, a printer, deposed that down to October he had printed the paper for the defendant.
Mr Lockwood, Q.C., then opened the case for the defence. He said that Sir Charles Russell had chosen to adopt a
course which, he hoped, would meet with the approbation of the jury. That course was this. Appearing for a client
whom his learned friends had described as anxious to meet boldly this charge, Sir C. Russell had preferred to close
the case for the prosecution without submitting that client to the process of cross examination. Of course, no one
knew better than Sir C. Russell whether that was or was not an advantageous course to follow on that occasion.
In his own experience, which, of course, was not so prolonged as that of Sir C. Russell, he had never known a
case of that kind where a person had come into that or any other court of that character and had complained
that his reputation had been attacked and had deliberately shrunk from tendering himself for cross examination.
The client preferred to trust rather to the prowess and skill of his learned friend and the attack which he would
make on the testimony offered in defence, and knowing well in establishing a case of that kind a great deal
of the evidence would necessarily be tainted, the courage of Lord Euston might increase as the credibility of
the witnesses against him was weakened. Sir Charles Russell was not in a position to give any undertaking as to
whether or not his client would be put into the box, since that was entirely in the option of Lord Euston. He agreed
with a great deal said by Sir C. Russell in the observations he had addressed to the jury on the serious nature
of the inquiry, and he quite recognised the serious nature of the plea which had been put on the record by the
defendant. He did not propose at that stage to do more than indicate the class of evidence he was in a position to
put before them. He would like to have had from Lord Euston himself the statement as to how he came to go to
the house in Cleveland street, but failed to see on what grounds Sir C. Russell was justified in telling the jury the
story of that visit when he knew he was determined not to call his client. What possible right had Sir C. Russell to
offer that account as to how Lord Euston went to Cleveland street, when he was contemplating closing the case
without calling him? He would call witnesses to show himself that Lord Euston had visited the house on the dates
mentioned in the plea of justification. There was another class of testimony which would be offered - testimony
which was capable of being treated as tainted, and on which the jury might have some hesitation in relying. Two
names had been mentioned in the plea, one of whom, Saul, would be called as a witness, while the other, Hewitt,
was out of the country, though Saul would speak also with regard to him. It was necessary in a defence of that
description, not merely to satisfy the jury of the truth of the charges made, but it was incumbent on the defence
to show that the publication was for the public benefit. He doubted whether there would be any argument upon
that point. In July last two persons were convicted there of a criminal offence in regard to that particular house.
They were persons in a humble position in life, and their conviction caused little comment. The inquiry, as far
as they were concerned, was conducted with an extraordinary amount of secrecy, for certainly very few people
were aware that the conviction had taken place. If with those persons of humble origins were associated persons
of position, such as those mentioned in connexion with the infamies of that house, he would be surprised to hear
any argument suggesting that it was not in the interest of the public that names such as those should be published.
Evidence for the defence was then called.
John O’Loughlin, in reply to Mr Asquith, said he was coal dealer and greengrocer, at 49 Tottenham street, and
43 Savile street, Marylebone. He knew Cleveland street. It was 27 yards from his door to 19 Cleveland street.
Some time last summer, about May 20, he was standing between 7 and 8 o’clock in the evening at the corner of
Cleveland street, talking to a Mr Smith, when he saw a gentleman getting out of carriage, and Smith called his
attention to him. The gentleman knocked or rang the bell at No 19, and witness saw him go in. He had seen the
gentleman since - first at Hyde Park corner six weeks ago, and next outside this court.
(Lord Euston here stood up in court, at the request of counsel, and the witness said he would like to see him
walk, which he did.)

Witness said he had seen that gentleman - Lord Euston - at Hyde Park corner, and going into the house in
Cleveland street.
Cross examined by Sir C. Russell, the witness said that up to quarter day in June last the business in Tottenham
street was Smith’s. Witness worked for Smith up to that time. Witness had heard remarks about Cleveland street
three or six months before all that talk about it, and before the publication in the North London Press. He did not
see a copy of that paper on November 30, with a portrait of Lord Euston in it. Witness did not hear of it. Witness
had never seen the gentleman who got out of the carriage before to his knowledge. It was a closed carriage. He
could not say whether it was a cab or a private carriage; he believed it was a private carriage. Witness’s eyesight
had been affected for 10 years. The first time he saw the gentleman after Cleveland street was six weeks ago at
Hyde Park corner. Witness was told to go there, and he was informed that Lord Euston would pass, and he waited
there an hour and three quarters. He could not say who told him that. It was a man who had taken him in a cab
to Hyde Park corner. Witness had seen the man the day before at his shop. The man asked him if he knew Lord
Euston. The man showed him a photograph and asked him whether he thought he would recognise him. He said he
should know him again. Witness said that the photograph was not like the man, being fuller in the face than the
person he saw at Cleveland street, but he said he knew the walk of the man. The man who went into Cleveland
street was 5ft 9in or 5ft 10in, and dressed in light gray, with a high hat; he had a moustache, but no whiskers; he
was good looking and looked healthy. Two different men came to witness and both had photographs of the same
person, but different photographs. Witness saw the first man twice and the second half a dozen times. He went
to Hyde Park corner with the second man. Witness was told that one of the men was employed by The Times in
Ireland to get up evidence against Mr Parnell. (Laughter.) The men told him something about the North London
Press. At Hyde Park corner witness got out of the cab, and the man left him and stood some distance off and
walked about. Witness saw a gentleman pass, and then he held up his hand. The man gave him his cab fare home
again and a drink for his trouble. The two photographs produced were not those shown to him. Witness’s eyesight
was very bad and was getting worse every day. When the gentleman passed, witness held up his hand as a signal
to the man that he had seen the gentleman pass. Witness had had nothing but his cab fare and his expenses. One
of the men gave him 5s on his first visit; on the second visit the man borrowed a shilling of it back. Witness did not
suppose that he had had 10s altogether. Lord Euston’s walk reminded him of a policeman who had done 20 years
walking on the stones. (A laugh.) It was not a smart or nimble walk.
Re-examined - He did not recognise in either of the photographs a good likeness of the man he had seen. The
man who went with him to Hyde Park corner told him that Lord Euston was to pass, and that he was to stop and
see if he recognised him.
John William Smith, in reply to Mr Lockwood, said he was a porter, living in Sandwich street. He knew the
witness John O’Loughlin. He knew Cleveland street. He remembered being in Cleveland street with O’Loughlin in
May last about 9 or a little after. He was standing at the corner of Tottenham street. He saw a gentleman get out
of a carriage, which stopped next door to 19 Cleveland street. The gentleman knocked at the door. Witness looked
at him. Witness had not seen him since to his recollection. The gentleman went into the house. Witness had seen
him before - about a week before. He walked up to the door of No 19 and went inside. He identified Lord Euston
as that gentleman. Witness believed he had seen him on six or seven occasions, but he might be a little mistaken
as to his being the gentleman owing to its being night. He noticed that he wore very loose trousers.
Cross examined - The gentleman was dressed in a dark coat and striped trousers, not exactly light. It was a
private carriage, and the gentleman opened the door of it himself. Witness never thought anything more of it
until he was reminded of it by O’Loughlin, who stated that he had seen a gentleman, Captain Webb, who had
made inquiries about Cleveland street. A photograph was shown to witness - it was a good likeness, but he was
not told who it was nor asked to identify anyone. He was not asked to recognise Lord Euston by the photograph.
He did not know the name of the gentleman until he came into court that morning. He had met Webb near the
Aquarium, but had had no particular conversation with him. The gentleman who got out of the carriage was
witness’s height. 5ft 8in, or a little taller, and he recognised him by the looseness of his trousers. He recognised
Lord Euston by his moustache, which, however, was not so curled today as on the previous occasion.
By Mr Justice Hawkins - He had seen the person five or six times in Cleveland street, spread over a period of
nine months.
Michael O’Loughlin said he lived at his father’s house, 49 Tottenham street, and was a barman out of employment.

He remembered going to Ascot Races two years ago on the Royal Hunt Cup day. Lord Euston was then pointed
out to him by name. He had seen the gentleman since at 19 Cleveland street - going in and coming out. He had
seen him about three times at the end of May and the beginning of June. The first time he saw him witness was
coming along Cleveland street in the same side as No 19, when he saw him coming out. Five weeks afterwards he
saw him going into No 19. Two or three days after that he saw him coming out. Lord Euston was that gentleman.
Cross examined - He was first asked to give evidence two months ago by Captain Webb. When Lord Euston
was pointed out to him at Ascot he was near the paddock. Witness never heard of the prosecution of two men
named Veck and Newlove. Witness had been shown photographs, one of which he recognised. He had seen three
people go into 19 Cleveland street. Captain Webb told him that Lord Euston lived in Grosvenor place, and witness
understood from that that he was to go there and identify him.
At this point the Court adjourned for luncheon.
On its reassembling, Anna Elizabeth Morgan was called and examined by Mr Lockwood. Witness said she lived
for about 12 months at 22 Cleveland street, which was immediately opposite to 19 Cleveland street. She had
noticed as many as 50 or 60 persons, and possibly more, going into and coming out of 19 Cleveland street. Witness
here identified Lord Euston in court as one of the person she had seen into and coming out of 19 Cleveland street
on various occasions. She could not give the precise date when she saw Lord Euston going in and coming out of
that house, but thought it might be three or four months before the house was shut up. She had sometimes seen
him between 12 and 1 o’clock midday, and she thought once in the evening. He came sometimes in a hansom and
sometimes in a four wheeled cab.
Cross examined by Sir C. Russell, witness said she could not identify anyone but Lord Euston; sometimes he
had on a black coat and a gray suit. He had on a blue pilot top coat and a velvet collar on the first occasion.
He was a tall man. She had been in company with a little dark gentleman, who had taken her in reference to
that case to Grosvenor place about a month or three weeks ago. He drove her there in a hansom, and while the
cab was standing by the side of the hospital she saw a tall gentleman come out of No 4 Grosvenor place, whom
she identified as the gentleman she had previously recognised in a photograph as one of the frequenters of 19
Cleveland street. Up to the time the photograph was placed in her hands and the name told her she had in no way
connected Lord Euston’s name with Cleveland street.
By the Judge - When she saw the photograph she recognised it by the face. She had never seen Lord Euston
sitting down or without his hat. She thought he wore his hat well over his forehead.
Frederick Grant was next called and examined by Mr Asquith. Witness stated that he was a barman residing
in Euston road. He knew Michael O’Louhghlin, and was once in the same employment with him. He remembered
going with him to the Middlesex Music Hall at the end of May or beginning of June, 1889. He came back from the
music hall in his company. On their way back he and O’Loughlin passed through Cleveland street. As he passed No
19 his attention was called to a gentleman coming out of that house; it was about 11.30 at night. He had seen the
gentleman since, and saw him in court (indicating Lord Euston).
Cross examined by Sir C. Russell - Michael O’Loughlin told him that the man they saw coming out of 19
Cleveland street was Lord Euston. He had never seen him before or after until that day in court, except in a
photograph. O’Loughlin told him the bad character of 19 Cleveland street, as they were passing. He went with
O’Loughlin to Captain Webb’s at Westminster about a month ago. He went there once or twice a week to see when
the case was coming on.
John Saul was the next witness, and was examined by Mr Lockwood. Witness stated that he lived at 15 Old
Compton street, Soho. He knew a man named Charles Hammond in 1879. He was then living at 25 Oxenden street,
off the Haymarket. He remembered his moving to 19 Cleveland street just after Christmas, 1886. Witness went
to live there about the end of March, 1887, and stayed there for it might be six or seven weeks. He remembered
persons coming to the house, and had introduced many there himself, among them a person there in court
(indicating Lord Euston). He had not seen him there before. That was some time in April or May, 1887. He met
him in Piccadilly not far from Albany courtyard - between that and Sackville street. (The witness then proceeded
to give evidence of a character unfit for publication.) He saw Lord Euston at that house again four or five days
afterwards. Newlove and Frank Hewett, a young fellow who had now, he believed, been sent abroad, were both
present on the occasion of Lord Euston’s second visit. He saw Lord Euston come into the house on the second

occasion. Frank Hewett used to pay visits to the house. He last saw Hewett about 12 months ago in the Tottenham
Court road. Witness quarrelled with Hammond about the end of May, 1887, and after that quarrel did not return
to Cleveland street.
Cross examined by Sir C. Russell, witness said he was now living at Inkerman road, Brixton, and had lived there
since before Christmas, with very respectable people. The name of the man who was looking after him was Violet.
Witness gave his evidence to Inspector Abberline, of the Criminal Investigation Office, about the beginning of
August last. Witness met Violet at an office in Westminster, where he gave his statement. It was Captain Webb’s
private inquiry office. Witness remembered seeing the prosecution of Veck and Newlove in the papers. He knew
nothing of the witnesses at that prosecution. The person who told him he was to go with Violet was a Mr O’Brien, a
gentleman from Captain Webb’s office. Witness had half a sovereign a week pocket money because he had to send
some money to his mother, who was very poor, in Ireland. He had never had any communication with Lord Euston
before the first occasion to which he had referred. Witness did not know Lord Euston’s name at that time. On
the second occasion Lord Euston was let in by Hammond by the front door into the front parlour. Since that time
witness had not seen Lord Euston at the house in Cleveland street, because he left; but he had seen him often in
Piccadilly. Since the second occasion when Lord Euston was let in by Hammond witness had had no communication
of any kind with Lord Euston, who always warned him against speaking to him if he saw him in the street.
In answer to further questions from Sir Charles Russell, witness admitted that he had led a grossly immoral
life in Dublin as far back as January, 1875. He came to London in 1879, and had since continued to lead the
same kind of life. He had not done much to earn an honest living in London. Her had been at work at a couple
of the theatres, and had kept apartments for women of bad character. He met Hammond soon after he came to
London. Witness said he remembered a prosecution in Dublin in 1884 in connexion with certain scandals. He was
not told that his evidence could not be accepted because he was not to be believed on oath. His evidence was
not accepted; he thought that was because it was too old. A young man from Captain Webb’s office first came to
him about giving his evidence in that case; he thought his name was Ashley. This person visited him at the end of
November, some days after witness had seen that the defendant, the editor and proprietor of the paper, had been
returned for trial. Up to that time no one had come to him. Witness did not make any statement to him then,
and he called the next day, and again on the Saturday morning, and asked witness if he would make up his mind.
Witness said if it was for Mr Parke he would go, but for nobody else. Witness certainly did not mean to suggest
that he knew the defendant, but he thought he was being acted very unfairly to. On that Saturday he went to
the office and made his statement to Mr O’Brien and in the presence of Captain Webb. He had never made any
statement to anyone but Captain Webb and Mr O’Brien. Mr Parke was in the private inquiry office at the same
time. Two photographs were produced to witness on one of those visits; one of them was a photograph of Lord
Euston, which he recognised at once. Witness learnt Lord Euston’s name about a fortnight or three weeks after
the first occasion on which Lord Euston visited 19 Cleveland street. He was told it by a friend of his in the street.
Mr Lockwood, having put some questions in re-examination, announced that that concluded the case for the
defence.
Lord Euston was then called and examined by Sir Charles Russell. Witness stated that he was the person who
instituted that prosecution. He had been sworn and examined at the police court, and was then cross examined
by Mr Lockwood. On that occasion not one the instances which had been referred to by the several witnesses
was in any way put to or suggested to him in cross examination. He recollected receiving a telegram about the
middle of November requiring his early attendance in London. He received it on a Saturday afternoon, and
came up on Monday morning. He was at Euston in the country at the time. The telegram was sent on the 16th,
and on the 18th witness came to town. He had been stopping at his father’s house, Euston hall. He then drove,
accompanied by a friend, to the office of his solicitor, Mr Lewis, and gave instructions to have proceedings taken.
The defendant came to Bow street before the warrant was executed and surrendered, and was finally committed
for trial on November 26. Witness recollected being in Piccadilly last year when a card was handed to him. This
was about 11 o’clock at night, about the end of May or beginning of June. Printed on the card was “C. Hammond,
19 Cleveland street,” ands written on the top was Poses Plastiques. On reaching home he read the card. He could
not remember what he did with the card, but thought he had put it on the table. He knew he had it with him in his
pocket. About a week afterwards he went to the place referred to on the card. He drove up in a hansom. He had
no private carriage; he occasionally drove in his father’s. He reached No 19 Cleveland street at about 11 o’clock.

He rang the bell, and the door was opened by a man of medium height, rather stout in the face, clean shaven,
dark moustache, and hair getting rather thin on top. He took witness into a room on the right hand side going
in - the first room. The man first asked him for a sovereign, which he gave him. Witness then asked him where
the poses plastiques were going to take place. He said, “There is nothing of that sort here,” and made improper
proposals to witness. Witness asked him what he meant by saying a thing like that to him, and told him that if he
did not let him out of the house at once he would knock him down. The man then opened the door and let him
out, and witness went away. He did not at that time mention the occurrence to anybody. Witness’s height was
6ft 4in. Except upon that occasion he was never in Cleveland street in his life. It was utterly untrue that in the
month of May, 1887, he went to 19 Cleveland street in company with a man named John Saul. Witness never in the
whole course of his life saw John Saul until he saw him in the witness box. He did not know the existence of such
a person until his name was mentioned in that plea. It was certainly not true that some days afterwards witness
went to the house in Cleveland street for the purposes alleged, nor was it true that in May and June, 1888, witness
resorted to the house for improper purposes, nor that in the months May, June, and July, 1889, he resorted there
for improper purposes. He never knew of the name Frank Hewett until he saw it in that plea. It was not true that
in July witness left this kingdom and went to Peru, nor that he went to parts out of the jurisdiction of the Court.
He had not been out of England since May, 1882. He went to see his sister in Biarritz in April, 1882, and got home
on May 22. He had not been out of the United Kingdom since that date. It was not true that any charge or warrant
was made against him, or that there was any suggestion of any warrant against him for any offence whatever.
He had not got a coat such as that described by one witness - a blue pilot coat, with a velvet collar, and had not
had a coat of that description in many, many years. He never had been to Cleveland street in a private carriage.
Cross examined by Mr Lockwood - Witness first heard of the libel on Monday morning, November 18, when he
arrived in London. The first time he heard any remarks with regard to 19 Cleveland street, was at the trial of the
people - he thought in September. He heard there had been some proceedings against some people at the police
court before they pleaded guilty and were sentenced. He thought it would be about July or August that he first
heard of those proceedings, and at that time it came to his mind that that was the house to which he had gone
on that one occasion. He never saw Newlove or Veck. He never told the story he had told there that day to any
person until his own name was coupled with that house. He then told it to Lord Dorchester, Lord Dungarvan, and
Mr Bedford. They were members of some club to which witness belonged. Witness knew Lord Arthur Somerset;
he belonged to some clubs to which witness belonged. Mr Bedford brought witness the rumour of his name being
coupled with the house in Cleveland street on Saturday, October 26. He then told him the story, and he told Lord
Dungarvan. They agreed to go to Lord Dorchester as being an older man and one whose judgement they thoroughly
respected. Up to that time he had told it to no one, because he was thoroughly disgusted at being trapped into
a place or caught in a place like that, and was not going to talk about his own folly. The man told witness the
nature of the house and witness left it immediately. When he received the card he put it in his pocket and read
it when he got home.
Did you consider or not that it referred to some filthy exhibition? - I knew what poses plastiques were. I have
seen some poses plastiques that you could not call filthy.
Did you consider that it referred to some kind of exhibition which you would be ashamed for it to be known
amongst your friends that you had visited? - No, Sir, I do not think that I should have been so ashamed amongst my
friends for that. Continuing, witness said he was 41 years of age. On the evening he visited the house in Cleveland
street he had been to the Garrick Club and was walking home from there about 11 o’clock, and it suddenly came
into his mind to go to this house. He pulled the cabman up when he told him he had reached Cleveland street.
He thought he was under five minutes in the house. After coming out of the house he took the card home to 4
Grosvenor place. It did not occur to him that he was taken to that house in order to be blackmailed. He thought
nothing about it at the time. He was only too glad to be out of the place. He tore up the card and never thought
any more about the thing. No one saw him tear up the card; he did it in his own room. He did not know when Lord
Arthur Somerset left this country. Witness did not go to Boulogne nor to a place on the outskirts of Boulogne; he
had not been out of England. He had not visited Lord Arthur Somerset there. Witness had been to Ascot for every
year for several years past, and had been there every day of the week. He had generally stayed there with some
friends.
Sir C. Russell, having put one or two questions in re-examination, then announced that that concluded the case
for the prosecution.

Mr Lockwood then addressed the Court in behalf of the defendant. He reviewed the evidence which had been
given in the case, and unhesitatingly asked the jury to reject Lord Euston’s story as being an untrue story. He (Mr
Lockwood) had placed before them testimony which justified the allegation that had been made, and he left it to
the jury, having regard to the way in which the charge had been met, to say whether or not that man had cleared
himself from the imputation.
Sir C. Russell addressed the jury, and in the course of his speech commented severely on the evidence which
had been adduced in support of the defendant’s plea. He said that the defendant’s statement in the libel was
unsupported by his plea and his plea was unsupported by the evidence. He asked them to come to the conclusion
that the evidence for the defendant, such as it was and as far as it went, was not worthy of the implicit credence
of 12 honest gentlemen who desired to arrive at a decision in accordance with what they believed the truth in
that matter.
The Court was then adjourned, the defendant being released on bail.
The Times
17 January 1890
The trial of Mr Ernest Parke, 29, journalist, who surrendered to his recognizances, upon an indictment charging
him with unlawfully and maliciously printing and publishing in a newspaper called the North London Press a false,
malicious, and defamatory libel concerning the Earl of Euston, was resumed this morning. The defendant pleaded
“Not Guilty” and presented a plea of justification, alleging that the libels complained of were true in fact, and
were published for the public benefit. The case excited much interest, and the court was crowded. Sir Charles
Russell, Q.C., Mr Charles Mathews, and Mr Lionel Hart were counsel for the prosecution; Mr Lockwood, Q.C., and
Mr Asquith for the defence.
Mr Justice Hawkins now summed up. He said that the question which the jury had to decide was undoubtedly
a very important one. He was happy to feel that the jury had already given their best attention to the evidence,
and after listening to the observations which he had to make it would be their duty to say whether they believed
that the plea of justification had been established to their satisfaction by the evidence which had been offered
in support of it. The questions of fact raised were - first, whether a libel had been published against Lord Euston
reflecting upon his character; and, secondly, whether the libel was justified by the facts. Now, with regard to the
publication of the libel, it was not for a moment disputed that in the North London Press, of which the defendant
was the proprietor and editor, a libel of a very atrocious character, if it was not justifiable, was published in the
paper which was issued on November 16. It was published early on that morning and no less than 4,500 copies
were printed for circulation. The libel imputed to Lord Euston heinous crimes revolting to one’s notions of all that
was decent in human nature. No one could doubt that it was a libel, and the only question remaining for their
consideration was whether the plea of justification had been established to their satisfaction by the evidence
which had been offered to them. If, looking at the facts, they thought it had, then, as a matter of course, their
verdict ought to be for the defendant; but if, looking at the facts, they came to the conclusion that they did not
satisfactorily make out that which the defendant had undertaken to establish, then it was their duty to say that
the libel was without justification, that then justification pleaded had not been established in point of fact, and
that Lord Euston ought to be acquitted of the charges made against him. His Lordship, having read the libel,
observed that no one could doubt that it was one of a very serious character. No one doubted that the defendant
was responsible for the libel unless he proved the justification which he had undertaken to prove. The question
of privilege did not arise on this occasion. No man even in a civil court, when an action was brought to recover
damages against the publisher for libel - no man could justify a libel so as to exonerate himself from the
consequences which attached to the publication of a libel on an individual unless he was prepared to prove the
truth of that which he alleged. If he was not prepared to prove that which he alleged, the law said that he had
no justification - he must prove, therefore, the truth of what he alleged in order to justify himself. In the interests
of the public there was a further matter which must be proved, and that was, not only must it be proved that the
libel was true in fact, but that the facts published in the libel were such as in the public interest should be made
known. The jury must be satisfied not only that the libel was true, but that it was for the public benefit that it
should be made known. His Lordship pointed out that when the case was before the magistrate Lord Euston
submitted himself for cross examination, but no question was put to him as to the matters given in evidence

yesterday. Lord Euston then gave the same evidence as he gave yesterday. At the last Sessions the defendant said
he intended to plead justification, that he intended to prove the truth of the allegation, and that the matter was
published for the public benefit. With reference to the course adopted by Sir C. Russell of not calling Lord Euston
first yesterday, his Lordship said he thought it was absolutely right. Down to the time the plea was put in Lord
Euston had no intimation of what witnesses were to be called by the defence or what they would say, and when
the counsel for the prosecution came into court yesterday they were in absolute ignorance of who were to be
called for the defence. He thought the discretion exercised by the counsel for the prosecution was rightly
exercised, and if he (Mr Justice Hawkins) had been in then position of Sir C. Russell he should have done the same
thing. His Lordship referred to the plea of justification, and said that there had not been any attempt to prove
that Lord Euston departed for Peru, and as regarded the allegation in the plea that he had left the kingdom there
was not one single particle of evidence. If that was introduced for the purpose of prejudice it was a cruel
allegation and one which ought not to have been introduced. It was stated in the libel that Lord Euston had gone
to Peru, and he supposed that it was found that this was not true, and it was then suggested in the plea that he
had gone to foreign parts, and the way in which it was suggested that that could be proved was question put
yesterday to Lord Euston as to whether he had not gone over to Boulogne for the purpose of seeing some one
there, but Lord Euston said he was not there, and that he had not been out of this country since 1882, when he
went to visit his sister at Biarritz, and from that hour to the present he had never left this country. There was no
proof that he had left the country. There was not a particle of foundation for saying that Lord Euston went abroad
for the purpose of avoiding process, and that part of the plea consequently must be treated not only as not
proved, but as disproved. His Lordship then proceeded to refer to the evidence given on the part of the defence
in support of the plea of justification, and pointed out that, in regard to the dress of the gentleman O’Loughlin
and Smith said they saw go into the house in Cleveland street, the witness O’Loughlin said he was dressed in a
light gray suit, while Smith stated that he wore a black coat and striped trousers. The height of the gentleman
was stated to be 5ft 8in or 5ft 10in, whereas Lord Euston’s height was 6ft 4in. His Lordship also referred to the
fact that photographs were shown to the witnesses, and he pointed out that all the witnesses said they saw the
gentleman with his hat on. A man looked different with his hat on to what he did when it was off. As to the witness
Saul, a more melancholy spectacle or a more loathsome object he could not imagine. He hoped, for the honour
of the police of the metropolis, that what this witness had sworn was not true, namely, that the police had
behaved kindly to him whilst he as taking his walks at night. He swore that they behaved kindly, and as a proof of
that he said that they advised him to give up the disreputable course of life he was leading. Was Saul’s story true?
Lord Euston said that it was as foul a perjury as man could commit. Of course, directly they could have only the
oath of Lord Euston against the oath of that man. It was necessary to speak out, and they would have to ask
themselves which oath they preferred - the oath of the man who, according to his own account, if he spoke the
truth, was liable to be prosecuted and sent into penal servitude, or the oath of the prosecutor. So far, he
marvelled that nobody had suggested that the man should be prosecuted. If it were true that Saul had told
Abberline his story in August, he (his Lordship), as one of the public, should like to know, why it was that, if
Abberline knew the story in August, he held his peace, said nothing, and did nothing up to the present hour. It
would be the first duty of those who were the guardians of peace and public morality, if they had evidence of
crime like this, to bring the criminal to light - no duty could be more obligatory. But, on the other hand, if Saul
did not tell Abberline, or, if he did, and Abberline could not believe the story, or could get no corroboration of it,
he did not wonder at no proceedings being taken, because he would think it the height of cruelty to make a
charge of an abominable crime against a gentleman, unless there was in the command of those instituting the
prosecution evidence that it right and reasonable to submit to a jury. After commenting on the fact that neither
Newlove nor any of the frequenters of the house had been called to give evidence in support of Saul’s testimony,
his Lordship again pointed out the questions for the decision of the jury.
The jury retired to consider their verdict, and, after an absence of about three quarters of an hour, they
returned into Court, finding the defendant Guilty of libel without justification.
Mr Mathews called his Lordship’s attention to the issue of the North London Press of November 23, in which the
defendant stated that if the charges he had preferred against Lord Euston were not true, and were made without
sufficient reason, he had no desire to escape the natural and inevitable consequences of misleading the public on
so grave a matter. Again, on November 30 the defendant, although he had been committed for trial on the 26th,
published in his paper three portraits, the first being that of Lord Euston, the second of Hammond, and the third
of Lord Arthur Somerset.

His Lordship - No one would recognise Lord Euston.
Mr Mathews - That may not have been the intention of the defendant. He submitted that these were matters
of aggravation. He also pointed out that on the 16th November, when the libel was published, there was in the
possession of the defendant not a single fact upon which he could rely as proof of the justification he had pleaded.
Mr Justice Hawkins offered to postpone sentence until tomorrow if the defendant desired to communicate with
his counsel or to submit anything himself.
Mr Osteler, on the part of the defendant, said it was not desired to have it postponed.
The defendant said he only desired to say that in this matter he had acted in perfect good faith, and that
what he had published he had published simply in what he believed to be the public interest. He did not, as had
just been said by counsel appearing against him, publish the libel without what he believed to be, and had since
found not to be, adequate evidence. What that evidence was he could not state. Of course he had been misled.
His Lordship - Only mentioning it is not evidence. The libel is, I think I may say, I do not mind telling you,
exceedingly bad, but if you would like to have until tomorrow to give me any information that you think would
alter my view of the matter, you shall. But at present, as the evidence stands, I see none that was in your
possession at the time the libel was published.
The defendant said he could only say that he had evidence at that time.
His Lordship - I really must have more than that. I will not argue with you except that I was going to say that it
was a very, very serious thing to publish in a paper, having a circulation of 4000 to 5000 in number, and circulate
through the country imputations of this horrible character. No man could live under them.
The defendant - With regard to the two points now mentioned by Mr Mathews as instances of aggravation, I
undoubtedly have to take the consequences of the error into which I have fallen. With regard to the second, the
portrait of Lord Euston was published in that paper for precisely the same reasons, and for none other whatever,
for which it appeared in many other newspapers which publish illustrations. May I add that I had, among other
evidence, Saul’s statement?
His Lordship - I do not wish to invite you to say anything except that which you think may assist you and be
in your favour. Do not suppose in giving me any information that I desire to have it, unless it is of a character to
assist you. I only tell you that at the present moment I fail to see any evidence at all to justify - to justify morally
- the publication of the libel which appears in this paper, and of which the jury has just found you guilty. It is for
that reason that I desire to give you, if you like to avail yourself of it - it is entirely up to you and not for me - an
opportunity of putting before me any matter which will in any way palliate or mitigate your guilt in the matter.
I do not say more; but I do not think I could allow you to remain under the impression that I can see anything
in your statement that you had evidence which would have justified you in publishing this libel, or made you
honestly believe that it was true when you published it. I have not anything before me that would lead me to that
conclusion, and as a matter of course I could not be satisfied with your bare statement without knowing what the
evidence was. At present it seems in my mind a very atrocious libel, without any justification in fact, for all these
witnesses were examined and gave their evidence after the magistrate had had your case under consideration.
They were examined and evidence was taken in support of the plea which you ought to have possessed before you
published the libel. You shall have till tomorrow morning if you like to think it over, or have any communication
with your counsel about it.
Mr Osteler - I think it would be better for all parties, under the circumstances, if your Lordship would give his
sentence now.
His Lordship - Very well. (To defendant) - And you think so, too?
The defendant - Yes, my Lord. I cannot give you the other evidence without a breach of faith.
Mr Justice Hawkins - Then I must say that I think a more atrocious libel than that of which you have been
found guilty has never been published by any man in circumstances less justifiable than those in which you have
published this libel. You had before you in November nothing more than the idlest rumours, suggesting to you
that, among other persons, Lord Euston had been guilty of an abominable crime. You suggested to me that you
had the evidence of Saul.
The defendant - And of others also, my Lord.

Mr Justice Hawkins - I cannot credit you about that. If you had had other evidence you should have produced
it. If it had been creditable you would have produced it, and your abstaining from producing it shows that you did
not place any reliance upon it. The plea that you could not produce this evidence without violating confidence is
one that I myself will never tolerate. If a man chooses to take the responsibility of publication in his newspaper,
as you said that you were willing to do, he must take the responsibility. The man who would recklessly, and I think
wickedly, publish of another person a libel which he has no evidence to prove has been guilty of an offence which
deserves the most condign punishment. I have expressed myself as strongly as any man could on the character
of the libel. I absolutely and entirely agree with the verdict of the jury. I do not believe that it would have
been possible to have found in England 12 men who, conscientiously and honestly, and carefully looking at the
evidence which they had put before them, could have come to any other conclusion than that this was a wicked
libel, published without any justification whatever and endeavoured to be supported by testimony absolutely
unworthy of real credence. In all the circumstances I feel it to be my duty to pass upon you a sentence which I
hope, besides being a punishment to you, will be a warning to others not to publish atrocious libels upon others
without justification.
His Lordship then sentenced the defendant to 12 months’ imprisonment.
The Times
24 January 1890
At Bow street, yesterday, Mr Arthur Newton, solicitor, Frederick Taylerson, his clerk, and an interpreter named
De Galla appeared to adjourned summonses charging them with conspiracy to defeat the ends of justice in
connexion with what are known as the Cleveland street scandals. Mr Horace Avory appeared to prosecute on
behalf of the Treasury; Mr C.F. Gill defended Mr Newton; Mr Wontner appeared for the defendants Taylerson and
De Galla.
The case for the prosecution was closed at the previous hearing, and Mr Gill now addressed Mr Vaughan, the
magistrate, for the defence. He said that up to now no evidence of any offence known to the law had been
tendered. There was absolutely nothing on which the magistrate could commit for trial. Mr Newton, his client,
took upon himself the whole responsibility for what had been done, and one of the defendants was his own clerk,
a young man who only obeyed instructions. Coming to the facts of the case, counsel pointed out that as early as
July 4 the Post Office officials, and through them the police, had received all the information it was possible to
obtain in this matter. Inspector Abberline had on that date all the information in his hands, but for some reason he
did not act. Counsel considered that the whole cause of the mischief that had arisen through the spread of these
disgraceful scandals, which touched both high and low, was the conduct of Inspector Abberline in allowing in July
the man Hammond to leave the country. It might, and very reasonably, not have been thought right or desirable
to institute a prosecution on the evidence of such boys as had been called in this case; but it also was clear that it
had not occurred to Abberline even to have Hammond watched. When this man was out of the country Abberline
strolled - 48 hours after the statements had been made to him by the boys - up to the police court, and then
for the first time asked for a warrant. On the next day he arrested Newlove, Newlove not being, as Hammond
was, in a position to leave the country. It was shown in evidence that Hammond had only left the house a little
earlier the same afternoon, but he was not arrested. A more remarkable introduction to a prosecution in which
it was suggested that the course of justice had been perverted never could be imagined. Then they got Newlove
before the magistrate; and, it being well known that Hammond had left the country, a remand was asked for,
apparently for the purpose of looking for him in England. Next the Treasury was communicated with, and the case
was bandied about between the police and the Treasury. Mr Newton, who was now offered as a sacrifice, was in
the meanwhile instructed for Newlove, and he asked that the case should be immediately proceeded with. The
magistrate at Marlborough street granted another remand, but said he should expect the case to be proceeded
with fully on the next occasion. Any magistrate in London - or any right minded person - would have made the
same suggestion; and Mr Newton was fully entitled to believe that that was what was intended, and he made up
his mind that the case would be then gone into completely and finally. That was the state of things during the
months of July and August. Of course, Hammond was not arrested, and plenty of time was given to Veck to get
away. The police and the authorities generally waited for six weeks - till August 19 - before arresting Veck. All this
time Hammond was out of the country for no extraditable offence, the only conspiracy for which any one could
be extradited being a conspiracy to mutiny. No sane person expected under these circumstances that Hammond

- who was in the position of the foul wretch Saul, who recently gave evidence in Lord Euston’s case, inasmuch
as he could say that the police had been very kind to him - having fled from justice, would return to a country
where he could be prosecuted. He did not suppose for one moment that it was suggested that he was going to
be a police witness. After the committal of Newlove and Veck the solemn farce was gone through of having the
name of Hammond placed on the indictment - in fact, it was impossible to prove the charge in the indictment
without having that name on it. He did not know who was responsible - although he had his own opinion about
it - that this case was put through hurriedly at the Old Bailey. There was evidently not much importance attached
to the case in regard to anybody getting any praise in it. There was no remarkable display of ability and no credit
to those who had the conduct of it. When it was placed in his hand Abberline had all the facts before him. He
had no necessity even to walk across the road to make an inquiry. Counsel did not know whether the history of
this case would ever fix the person who was responsible for putting about the names, some of the highest in the
land, that had been put about. Mr Newton had heard these rumours and therefore took the steps he did. The
learned counsel then proceeded to deal with the evidence of the boy Swinscoe, who, he said, was, on his own
admission, a young scoundrel. Swinscoe to Abberline’s knowledge had committed perjury at the Marlborough
street police court when he stated the number of times he had been at the house in Cleveland street, but took no
trouble to have a correction made. Anything more deplorable and scandalous than the proceedings of the police
in taking these young scoundrels to Pall Mall and waiting outside clubs with them on the lookout for anybody
they might pretend to identify he could not understand. It was infamous that the names of persons should be
whispered away by boys of such character, egged on by police officers desirous of promotion. It was well known
that many names had been given up to the police in connexion with these scandals, but in spite of this no further
proceedings were taken, and in consequence Mr Newton assumed, as he was entitled to assume, that after the
time which had elapsed the matter had dropped. Being engaged for certain persons who had to complain of their
characters having been mentioned in the course of the Marlborough street case, he naturally took an interest
in the boy Allies, who he knew had committed perjury at the police court when he said that he was then living
with his parents at Sudbury. He accordingly sent his clerk Taylerson to Sudbury, where he had an interview with
the boy’s father, mother, and brother, who expressed the opinion that he was acting under compulsion and not
of his own free will. The parents also complained that they were suffering from the rumours and scandals which
were being spread about the place concerning their son, and Taylerson was ultimately empowered by the elder
Allies to find his son, induce him to go home, if only for a little while, and to disabuse his mind of the idea that
the police or anybody else had the right to keep him under control. The learned counsel then proceeded to deal
in detail with the circumstances under which Allies was looked after by Hanks and Abberline, whose conduct
throughout the case he strongly denounced, and on whose evidence he threw the gravest doubt. Referring to the
interview between Taylerson and Allies at the Marlborough Head public house on September 25, outside which
the policeman Hanks said he saw Mr Newton and another gentleman, he said he would prove this was an absolute
falsehood. Mr Newton lived at Malden, in Surrey, and on the day in question left his office in Marlborough street at
7 in the evening and went home, where, besides some relations who were staying with him, he entertained some
friends at dinner. It would also be shown that Taylerson was so upset by the manner in which Abberline had spoken
to him in the public house that he came down that same evening to complain to his employer, Mr Newton. These
facts would be absolutely fixed and would he thought throw a great deal of light on the sort of fictitious colour
it had been sought to throw upon Mr Newton’s conduct in this case. In conclusion Mr Gill asked how Mr Newton
could possibly be accused of conspiring to defeat the course of justice by visiting Hammond on the Continent,
where he was out of the jurisdiction and within which he was not likely to return, or even by providing young
men with money to go to America.
Mr Gill having concluded his address, the Court adjourned for luncheon. On resuming, Mr Wontner remarked
that Mr Gill had completely covered the ground, and denied that, as far as his clients were concerned, there was
any evidence of conspiracy.
Mr Samuelson, an accountant in the office of the Daily Telegraph, was then called, and said he remembered
taking his wife on the 25th of September to see Dr. Burney Yeo, a well known specialist. A Miss Bedford was with
her. Dr. Yeo gave her a prescription on that day, which he produced. It was dated. He had arranged on that day to
go with his wife to Mr Newton’s house at Malson, in Surrey. The name of the house was Embleside. On leaving Dr.
Yeo’s witness put his wife in an omnibus, and, after he had finished his work, he went down himself to Malden to
dinner. He got there about half past 6 to 7. He saw there Mrs. Newton, a Miss Crosbie, a cousin of Mrs’ Newton’s,

and the grandmother of Mr Newton. Mr Newton came home shortly before 8 o’clock. Dinner was served at 8
o’clock, and witness dined with Mr Newton. About 10 o’clock Mr Taylerson came in, and said he wanted to see
Mr Newton. Witness remembered Mr Newton’s pony cart coming to the door, and witness’s wife got into it. He
walked up to the station, and spoke to him about his reasons for coming down that night. All the party travelled
in the same carriage. At Waterloo witness and his wife got out. Before 8 o’clock until half past 10 witness was in
the company of Mr Newton. He was certain. It was in consequence of what he saw stated that Mr Newton was in
Marlborough street at half past 9 that night that he called his wife’s attention to it, and that he subsequently went
to Mr Newton’s office and told him what he had now said. Witness’s wife was now ill and unable to give evidence.
Cross examined by Mr Avory - He had never been before to Dr. Yeo, but had been since. He thought the 25th of
September was Tuesday; no, wait a minute, it was a Thursday or Friday. He believed Mr Newton had no intention
of returning to town on the night in question until the arrival of Taylerson. Witness had dined there frequently.
By Mr Gill - He had never dined at Mr Newton’s house on any other occasion when Mr Taylerson came there.
Miss Eva Bedford, Hillside, Marlow, gave corroborative evidence.
Miss Eva Violet Crosbie also gave corroborative evidence as to the dinner party at Mr Newton’s house.
The case for the defence being concluded, Mr Vaughan went carefully through the evidence, and expressed
his intention of sending the case for trial. All three defendants made statements to the effect that there was no
conspiracy, and Mr Newton said, and signed the statement, that there was no truth whatever in the evidence that
pointed to his being in Great Marlborough street on the night of the 25th of September.
Mr Vaughan accepted bail in the sum of £100 for each defendant.
The Times
25 February 1890
Mr Arthur Newton, solicitor of Great Marlborough street, Mr Taylerson, and Mr De Galla attended the Court and
formally entered into their recognizances to appear in the Queen’s Bench Division on then charge of conspiracy
to defeat the ends of justice in connexion with the Cleveland street scandals, the case having been removed by
writ or certiorari from the Old Bailey.
The Times
17 May 1890
The Queen v Newton and Others

The trial of this case had been removed from the Central Criminal Court by writ of certiorari to the Queen’s
Bench. The indictment contained six counts charging Mr Arthur Newton, a solicitor, with conspiring with Frederick
Taylorson, his clerk, and others to defeat the course of justice. To this indictment both the defendants had
pleaded “Not Guilty” but by leave of the Court, upon the jury being sworn, the prisoner Newton withdrew his plea
of not guilty as to the last count, which charged that certain offences against the Criminal Law Amendment Act
had been committed “by divers male persons,” and that Newton knowing this, and believing and apprehending
that a prosecution would probably take place, conspired with other persons to prevent their prosecution.
The Attorney General, the Solicitor General, Mr R.S. Wright, and Mr Horace Avory appeared for the Crown; Sir
Charles Russell, Q.C., Mr Jelf, Q.C., and Mr C.T. Gill for both the prisoners.
Sir Charles Russell, addressing his Lordship, said that as the record now stood, the indictment having been
found at the Central Criminal Court and moved into that Court, there was a plea of not guilty for each of the
defendants. Taylorson adhered to his plea of not guilty, but as regarded Mr Newton, he desired to withdraw the
plea which appeared for him, and plead guilty to the sixth and last clause of the indictment. He understood that
would have the assent of the Attorney General. The charge Mr Newton had pleaded guilty to was a charge the
character of which, so far as the moral blame attaching to it was concerned, varied according to the circumstances
of the case. Mr Newton was a solicitor, and the other defendant his clerk. From the outset Mr Newton, before
the learned magistrate who heard the case, avowed that if there were any blameworthiness in the matter, the
blame was his, and that Taylorson acted upon his instructions. The sixth count, to which Mr Newton had pleaded
guilty, was one which charged him with having acted in concert with certain other persons - Taylorson and Mr

De Gall, who was not charged before the court - with a view to impede the course of justice. Mr Newton himself
was an officer of the Court, and was admitted a solicitor in the year 1884, having served his articles with a well
known firm of solicitors. In the year 1884 Mr Newton set up in business as a solicitor for himself, and he (Sir
Charles) was entitled to call attention to the fact that that experienced magistrate Mr Vaughan, who heard the
case in its preliminary stages, at its close expressed the very great regret that he felt at being obliged, by what
he conceived to be his sense of duty, to return Mr Newton to be tried, on the ground that he had formed a high
opinion of him in his professional character, and that he had had occasion to commend him more than once for
the manner in which he had conducted his professional business. For obvious reasons he (Sir Charles) would not
trouble his Lordship with the details of the case; it would serve no useful purpose whatever, but would have the
reverse effect. It was, unhappily, a notorious fact that there was a house of infamous character, kept by a man
named Hammond, in Cleveland street, to which it was alleged - and there could not be any doubt that there was
truth in the allegation - that persons of the male sex resorted for criminal purposes. In the autumn of last year
the police were taking steps in relation to it. One immediate result was that Hammond left the country before
any legal process could be or was obtained against him, and was residing outside the jurisdiction of the Court -
viz., in Belgium. The Attorney General would agree that for such an offence as Hammond could alone have been
charged with there was no means by which, under the extradition arrangements, he could have been taken into
custody and handed over for the purposes of justice to the authorities here. Hammond, living by infamous traffic
and living perhaps less by any filthy payments made to him than by blackmailing operations, had named several
persons - as to whom it would not be right, even if pertinent to the case, that he should mention their names
- who had attended at his house for the purpose of commission of criminal acts. Of those persons, two or three
were clients of Mr Newton’s, and they protested that an attempt was being made to blackmail them, and that
they were innocent. It was probable that Mr Newton, believing in the protestations of his clients, thought that
in what he did he was rather shielding men from infamous charges, dictated by infamous motives, than doing
anything that would impede the course of justice. That was illustrated in this way. The man Hammond, being in
Belgium, and unquestionably threatening to make charges and use his position for the purpose of blackmailing,
it was true that Newton did exert himself in the interests of his clients and in the relief of those clients from
infamous charges, and did take active steps and actively intervened to get hammond to leave Belgium and go
to America, from which point his attempts at blackmailing, whether rightly or wrongly, were thought to be less
effective. Nobody would for an instant suggest that in the course Mr Newton took in procuring Hammond to go to
America he was acting in the interests of Hammond. Mr Newton had no interest in protecting Hammond from a
Court of Justice. It was obvious that, however wrong and improper - for he conceived it to have been both - was
Mr Newton’s intervention, it clearly was not an intervention in the interests of Hammond, or to shield him from
any charge that might be brought against him. As regarded any other charges against anybody else, at that time
there was no definite charge formulated by warrant or by summons against any other person. Amongst the persons
who were making these charges, true or false, were some who had been guilty of taking part in these criminal
offences. At a later stage one person left the country, but at that stage no charge had been made against him.
On the 12th of November a warrant was issued against him, but at that time he was out of the jurisdiction of
the Court, and he had not, so far as was known, been within the jurisdiction since. In that state of the case Mr
Newton did see some of the people who were supposed to be witnesses, but it was for the purpose of getting to
know what were the made against his clients. Taking the whole of the circumstances into account, however, there
was certainly a technical breach of the law; but the charge which was founded upon that breach was of a class
which was very rare, and in regard to which Mr Baron Pollock said, when the motion for removal was made, that
it was a branch of the law upon which even the Judges of the High Court had comparatively little knowledge. He
hoped he would have the assent of the Attorney General when he said, admitting the impropriety on the part of
Mr Newton in some particulars, the offences amounted to no more than an indiscreet act of a zealous man acting
in the interest of those whose honour was confided to his charge, and whose characters had been attacked at
the instance of a few persons whose testimony was unworthy of credence. It was not a case in which a solicitor
was deliberately lending himself to a violation of the law. Under all the circumstances of the case, looking to the
fact of the moral torture, the pain and anxiety, to say nothing of the cost of the proceedings, inflicted upon the
defendant, he would respectfully ask his Lordship to allow Mr Newton to stand out to come for judgement when
called upon. Of course, if any circumstances came to his Lordship’s knowledge hereafter, he would call upon Mr
Newton to come up to receive judgement.

Mr Justice Cave - Have I to pass sentence?
Sir C. Russell - Yes, my Lord. According to existing law, you have. As regards the other prisoner, Taylorson, I have
the intimation of he Attorney General that he does not propose to offer any evidence, and a verdict of not guilty
will have to be returned.
The Attorney General said that the case had involved him and those who were acting with him in considerable
anxiety, but the responsibility must rest with his Lordship. He did not know that he could go so far as to concur in
any specific application; but he would leave the matter entirely in the hands of the Court, although, at the same
time, he would be unwilling to weaken by any observation the appeal made by Sir Charles Russell. In regard to
Taylorson, it would not be right for him to offer any evidence, because he admitted that from the beginning to the
end of the proceedings Mr Newton said honestly that what had been done had been done under his instructions.
He had been most anxious throughout the whole of the case to draw the broadest distinction between vague
accusation and definite evidence. He was satisfied that his Lordship would concur that when such charges were
allowed to float and get about, wicked people made use of rumours which they had no right to make use of, and
in this case he ought to state that, so far as he knew, except against the persons against whom proceedings had
been taken, there had been no evidence worthy of the name placed before those for whom he appeared. He
admitted, also, that there was no evidence before him of personal motive or of any inducement to Mr Newton
to act as he had done, and accepting, as he wished to accept, what had fallen from Sir C. Russell, that he was
acting for some persons who were charged, he felt bound to say that it did seem to be consistent that he might
have been led astray by his zeal for his clients into acts which he ought to have considered more carefully, and
for the consequence of which he must be held responsible. It was suggested, on behalf of Mr Newton, that he
was endeavouring to shield persons from blackmailing, and he felt it right to say that there was nothing in his
instructions to negative that view. It might be that that was one of the motives, and assuming that his Lordship
accepted that statement, he had to observe that there was nothing in the evidence inconsistent with it. There was
one other matter to which he wished to refer, and that was that the communication with the boys was after the
issue of the warrant, and it is clear that they were sent to him by police constables, and that he did not seek them
out. It was also perfectly true, and this might have had some effect on the legal view, that no extradition was
possible against either of the persons for whom warrants were out; while the other persons against whom warrants
were obtained were brought to justice and convicted, the convictions being before any of the acts complained of
in the indictment. He had only to say further that it appeared from the depositions that Mr Vaughan did express
his opinion of the previous high character of Mr Newton, and his regret that he should have been mixed with such
a transaction. He hoped his Lordship would be able to accept the statement of Sir Charles Russell, and he did not
feel it his duty to press any other view against Mr Newton than that which his learned friend had submitted. He
accepted the plea of guilty on the last count, and did not offer any evidence in regard to the earlier counts, and it
was with great satisfaction that he found it unnecessary for him in public to go into the case, because the mischief
done by discussion of such matters could not be over exaggerated.
A verdict of not guilty was then taken upon the indictments as to Taylorson, and with regard to Newton on the
first five counts.
Mr Justice Cave then intimated that he would pass sentence in Newton’s case next Tuesday morning.
Sir Charles Russell - Would you Lordship like to have an affidavit from Newton verifying the facts I have stated?
Mr Justice Cave - No, unless you wish to add additional matter.
Mr Newton’s recognizances were extended until Tuesday.
The Times
21 May 1890
QUEEN v NEWTON
This was the case, tried on Friday, of the solicitor indicted for conspiring to obstruct the course of justice
in a certain prosecution. There were six counts in the indictment, to one of which, couched in general terms,
the defendant pleaded Guilty, and was accordingly convicted before the above named Judge, who postponed
sentence until today, when the defendant came up for judgement. The count on which he was convicted stated

that before the commission of the offence alleged, on divers days between the 1st of October, 1887, and the
5th of July, 1889, divers acts of gross indecency had been committed by divers persons, with others, to wit, &c.,
(mentioning certain names), at a house in Cleveland street, Fitzroy square, contrary to Section 11 of the Criminal
Law Amendment Act, 1885, and that the said A.G.E. Newton, with another person (named), knowing this and
apprehending that a prosecution was pending for such offences, and that it would probably take place on the 23rd
of August, 1889, unlawfully did conspire with the said person mentioned and other persons unknown to obstruct,
pervert, and defeat the due course of law and justice in respect of the said offences, and to prevent the due
prosecution of the said persons for these said offences. The defendant now standing up for sentence, the learned
Judge reviewed the facts of the case, and continued - Your counsel, who addressed me with much eloquence,
made an appeal on your behalf, founded on statements you had made to him and certain facts which had come
out in the course of litigation, and he appealed to me to take a lenient view of your case on the ground that
you thought you were shielding a man from certain infamous charges, made from infamous motives, rather than
doing anything to impede the course of justice, and that your offence was rather to be ascribed to the indiscreet
zeal of the solicitor of an accused party than to any design or intention on your part to impede the course of
justice. And the Attorney General made a remark on that subject of which I had some difficulty in appreciating
the force. He said he accepted what had thus fallen from Sir Charles Russell on your behalf - that is, that you
were acting for some of the parties charged, and it seemed to him that you may have been led away by zeal for
your clients into acts which you ought to have considered irregular, and for the consequences of which you would
be held responsible. It was, he said, suggested on your behalf that you were only endeavouring to shield accused
persons from “blackmailing,” and he said that “there was nothing in his instructions to negative that view; that it
might be that that was one of the motives which had influenced you, and that he accepted the statement, there
being nothing in the evidence inconsistent with it.” Now, I am bound to act on my own view of the facts, and the
responsibility for the sentence upon you will be mine. And I am sorry to say that I find myself unable accept that
view. I have stated the facts, and they hardly seem to me to justify any conclusion of that kind, nor do I see in
the evidence given before the magistrates, or any statement you made before the magistrates, anything which
would lead me to come to the conclusion that your real motive for the acts you committed was that suggested
- that is, that Hammond had been not only a party to permitting practices of this nature to take place, but
afterwards made use of his position to levy “blackmail” on some who were and also on some who were not guilty
of such practices. In the case, however, of Allies, at the time when you sent to induce him to leave the country
Hammond had absconded, and he was charged with a criminal offence, and everything he would say under those
circumstances would be received with the utmost suspicion. Allies, on the other hand, was under the care of the
police; and there is nothing to lead me to suppose that he was conspiring with Hammond or taking measures of
that kind, nor was it likely that the police would permit him to be a party to anything of the kind. I can see in
your attempt to remove Allies out of the jurisdiction nothing but a desire to get rid in the course of the inquiries
which it was known were being made of a witness who might give evidence which would be inconvenient. And
so I am unable to see in your conduct with regard to Hammond the excuse suggested on your behalf. He, it was
alleged, was pursuing the calling of a “blackmailer,” and yet at the time when he was out of the jurisdiction, in
a country not very far removed from this, you assisted him to remove himself still further from this country, into
a country where he would not be less amenable to English justice than he would be in Belgium. I say nothing, for
I can place but little reliance upon what took place, as to the other boys, because it is admitted that they were
put in your way by the police; and, secondly, because there was, beyond proposals not carried out, and which the
boys themselves thought were not intended to be acted on, nothing to show you had intended to remove them
out of the jurisdiction; and the consequences of such a step would in all probability been so serious to yourself
that I am glad to be able to accept the view put forward on your behalf, that the object of your interview was
rather to ascertain what evidence they were going to give. At the same time, your conduct was certainly fraught
with suspicion, and I must regard that along with the other matters which I have to consider. Now as to another
point taken on your behalf, that though you have pleaded guilty to the conspiracy, yet that in point of fact it has
not succeeded, and that the course of justice has not been impeded by it. It is true that at the time Allies was
not removed out of then jurisdiction, though the suggestion was made to him to go, and that when Hammond
was sent from Belgium to America he was not more out of the reach of the courts than he had been in Belgium,
and therefore I do accept that as a palliating consideration. We have always in Courts of law been accustomed
to look to the attempt as not grievous where it has not succeeded, and to that extent you will have the benefit

of a more favourable consideration of your case. I turn with more satisfaction to another point which Sir Charles
Russell made in your favour. You were admitted a solicitor only in 1884, and are, therefore, still but young in your
profession, and something must be set down to the zeal and indiscretion of youth. You have also the advantage of
what Mr Vaughan stated in your favour, that he had known you in your professional character. It must be regretted
that one for whom a magistrate could express a favourable opinion should have placed himself in the position in
which you stand. I cannot regard this as other than a serious offence, and I cannot adopt the suggestion thrown
out by your counsel to allow you to come up for judgement when called upon. The punishment for such an offence
is fine or imprisonment, at the discretion of the Court. This, however, is one of those cases in which a fine would
be no punishment. Your offence has been committed for the purpose of securing the absence of these persons
from England in the interests of wealthy clients, and to impose a fine, therefore, would only, in all probability,
result in their paying the fine for you. I must, therefore, pass a sentence of imprisonment. It is quite impossible
that I should overlook the case in the way suggested, and leave you to come up on your recognizances. The case
is too serious for that course. An attempt to defeat the law is a matter which throws too much scandal on the
administration of justice, and which, if it were successful, would have such a bad influence, that I must pass upon
you a sentence of imprisonment, and that is imprisonment for six weeks.
The learned Judge did not add “hard labour,” and Mr Jelf, Q.C., who appeared for the defendant, asked if it
was to be imprisonment as a first class misdemeanour.
The learned Judge said he would consider that.
In the course of the day his Lordship mentioned that he had read an affidavit which had been handed up to
him by Mr Jelf, and that the matter must remain in abeyance, as present he saw no reason for departing from the
ordinary course.
The Times
24 May 1890
REGINA v NEWTON
Mr Justice Cave, addressing Mr Jelf, Q.C., said that he had been rending the affidavits which Mr Jelf had
handed in the above case. The fact that Mr Newton would be unable to attend to his business was a necessary
consequence of his sentence. With reference to the information contained in Mr Wontner’s affidavit to the effect
that the defendant had been recently treated for ophthalmia and had to lie on his back three times a day, that
disclosed no treatment which the defendant might not receive as an ordinary misdemeanant. With regard to Dr.
Travers’s affidavit as to the effect of imprisonment on the defendant’s mental health, he was unable to release Mr
Newton because it was said that possibly his health might be prejudicially affected by imprisonment. That would
be attended to by the medical officer of the prison, who had great power in dealing with cases of that kind. On the
whole case he could see no ground for making the distinction Mr Jelf asked. The sentence inflicted was intended as
a punishment, and a severe one, while confinement as a first class misdemeanour was unattended by punishment.
Taking the whole case into consideration, he could see no ground for departing from the ordinary practice. The
defendant must, therefore, undergo the usual discipline.
WRITE FOR RIPPEROLOGIST!

We welcome contributions on Jack the Ripper, the East End and the Victorian era.
Send your articles, letters and comments to contact@ripperologist.biz

Spitalfields Life
By THE GENTLE AUTHOR
of www.spitalfieldslife.com
“In the midst of life I woke to find myself living in an old house
beside Brick Lane in the East End of London.”
These are the words of The Gentle Author, whose daily blog at spitalfieldslife.com has captured
the very essence of Spitafields since August 2009. We at Ripperologist are delighted to have The
Gentle Author’s blessing to collate these stories and republish them in the coming issues for your
enjoyment. We thank the Gentle Author and strongly recommend you follow the daily blog at
www.spitalfieldslife.com.
Kate Parry Frye’s Suffrage Diary

Elizabeth Crawford, bookdealer and writer specialising in the Women’s Suffrage Movement, reveals how
she discovered Kate Parry Frye’s Suffrage Diary, telling the forgotten story of one woman’s contribution to the
campaign for Votes for Women which took place in the East End a century ago.
*****
Operating from 321 Roman Road, Sylvia Pankhurst’s ‘East London Federation of Suffragettes’ is the most famous
of the groups in the East End who backed George Lansbury, the Labour MP, when he resigned his Bromley and Bow
seat to fight a by-election on the ‘Votes for Women’ issue in the autumn of 1912. Yet, also knocking on doors and
holding meetings was the ‘New Constitutional Society for Women’s Suffrage’ about which very little was known,
until now.
In 1912, the diarist Kate Parry Frye was out on the streets of Bow canvassing
for Lansbury and she also took part in a short, sharp Whitechapel campaign, a
year later. Her voluminous diary has only recently come to light, replete with
an archive of associated ephemera, recording her efforts to convert the men
and women of Southern England to the cause of ‘Votes for Women.’ Her diary
entries, written while she was a paid organiser for the Society, bring to life
what was – in her eyes – the alien territory of the East End.
I discovered the diaries piled in boxes in a dripping North London cellar

while working in my capacity as book dealer. Loath to reject this record of
one woman’s entire life, however unsellable the soaking volumes appeared,
curiosity got the better of my common sense and I purchased them. Once they
were dried out, I began to read them and the existence of the diarist took
shape – or, rather, Kate reshaped herself as she came to life.
Kate Parry Frye

Her story is not extraordinary in outline, but extraordinary in the engrossing details of life that she committed to
paper. Where another diarist might select only the highlight of a day, Kate gives us train times, meal times, details
of the contents of those meals, details of lodgings, landladies, restaurants, tube lines, parties, palm readings,
clothes-buying, dog-walking, dentist and doctor visits, attendance at election meetings, Suffrage campaigning –
both as a volunteer and as an employee – and of play-going and play-writing.
Kate, a well brought-up daughter of the ‘grocerage,’ had been a devotee of the stage, pursuing acting until
she realised the theatre would never pay. And being able to pay her way became increasingly important when her
father, who in the eighteen-eighties developed a chain of grocery shops, forsook his business for politics, holding
the North Kensington seat as a radical Liberal MP. Beguiled by Westminster, he subsequently lost control of his
family business and, eventually, even of his home – which led to Kate taking up work as a paid organiser for the
New Constitutional Society.
It is extraordinary that, even after a hundred years, new primary material such as Kate Parry Frye’s diary
has surfaced, allowing us access to the experience, without the interference of hindsight, of the life of an a
Suffragette. Recognising the value of Kate’s experience, I decided that rather than selling the manuscripts of
her diaries I would edit the entries for 1911-1915 as Campaigning for the Vote: Kate Parry Frye’s Suffrage Diary.
With Kate as a guide, readers may trace the ‘Votes for Women’ campaign day by day, as she knocks on doors,
arranges meetings, trembles on platforms, speaks from carts in market squares, village greens, and seaside piers
– enduring indifference, incivility and even the threat of firecrackers under her skirt. Her words bring to life the
experience of the itinerant organiser – a world of train journeys, of complicated luggage conveyance, of hotels
and hotel flirtations, of boarding houses, of landladies, and of the quaintness of fellow boarders. No other diary
gives such an extensive account of the working life of a Suffragette, one who had an eye for the grand tableau
as well as the minutiae, such as producing an advertisement for a village meeting or, as in the following entries,
campaigning in Whitechapel.
Saturday September 27th 1913

Another boiling day. On top of a bus to Whitechapel. A meeting of women and girls who had been before
– and a tea given by Miss Raynsford Jackson who afterwards addressed them and could not be heard
beyond the first row, I should say, and in any case was very tedious. However one girl ended by playing
the piano and made a deafening row. Miss Mansell, Miss McGowan’s nice friend, was there – she is a
dear – she did all the tea. I chatted and handed round. The girls were so nice – nearly all Jewesses. The
pitiful tales they tell of the sweated work is awful – and they are so intelligent – and quite well dressed.
The Jews are an example to the gentile in that way.
Wednesday October 1st 1913

Bus to Piccadilly Circus – lunch at [Eustace] Miles [a vegetarian restaurant] – by train from Charing Cross
to St Mary’s [the nearest railway station to the Whitechapel Committee room], getting there at two
o’clock. I need not have hurried as we did not start out on our Poster Parade until three o’clock. Miss
McGowan, Miss Simeon, Miss Goddard and myself, with Miss Mansell to help give out bills. It was a great
success – the Whitechapel folks were very entertained and very few were rude and rough. We got back
about five all very tired – it is tiring work, the pace is so slow and one has to be so keenly on the lookout
for everything – and the mud and dirt in the gutter is so horrid. Then after tea I went off to Mark Lane
again to give out bills. Had some sardines on toast at Lyons and to the Committee room 136 Whitechapel
Rd at 7.45pm where I was joined by Mrs Merivale Mayer and Mrs Kerr and we all went off to Mile End
Waste for an open-air meeting at eight o’clock. I gave out hand bills and chatted to the crowd. Some of
our girl friends were there – they are so affectionate and nice. I was simply dead from standing and did
not get home until 10.45pm. I was so tired I wept as I walked from the station.
Kate Frye’s account of the activities of the New Constitutional Society is the fullest that exists. Nothing of the
Society’s archive has survived, presumably destroyed when the society dissolved in 1918, once the vote was won
and its work done. Although she never again had reason to venture into the East End, the Suffrage movement had
opened Kate’s eyes to the deprivations endured by its people and gave reality to her hope that after women got
the vote ‘something would be done’.

“It was all simply magnificent, 70,000 of us,
five abreast, and some of the sections were
just wonderful - a real pageant and I enjoyed
myself tremendously. It started at 5.30pm
and it was not much after 6pm when we were
off. We were in a splendid position. The end
had not left the Embankment before we
started the meeting at 8.30pm, seven miles,
a thousand banners and seventy bands. We
were just behind one and it was quite lovely
marching to it. We all kept time to it and at
least walked well. Several of the onlookers I
heard say that ours was the smartest section.
We went along at a good steady pace – not
nearly so much stopping about as usual and Members of the New Constitutional Society for Women’s Suffrage in their workroom
it was lovely to be moving, though I had not

found the wait long. Such crowds – perfectly
wonderful – there couldn’t have been many
more and they must have waited hours for a
good view. The stands were crowded too and
one could see the men lurking in the Clubs
– some of them looking very disagreeably.”
Kate kept one of the handbills that she

distributed around Whitechapel – The New
Constitutional Society translated their message
into Yiddish.
Thursday, October 2nd 1913

To Whitechapel at 10.30am. Miss Goddard
was the only one who turned up till afternoon
so she and I went off to the Docks to give
out handbills. We had a funny morning, as I
got arrested twice. The first time by a young
and foolish Policeman for holding a Public
Meeting where it was not allowed. ‘Now
then young woman come out of this,’ with a
most savage pull at my arm, nearly knocking
me over. It was so absurd.
13 June 1908 saw a spectacular summer

procession with magnificent banners designed by
the Artists’ Suffrage League and Kate was proud
to carry one for North Kensington, even though
it was tiring work. After the long march from
the Embankment she described how “I got in the A page from the diary dated 1914
[Albert] Hall about 5.10pm and they started the
meeting just as I sank down. I must own to feeling completely done when I left the banner. I got cramp in both feet
at once and felt a thousand but I dashed into the Hall found the seat in my box with the Wrights – and Alexandra,
like an angel, got me a cup of tea. She, Gladys and another girl looking most awfully charming in cap and gown.”
In February 1910, Members of the House of Commons formed what was termed the Conciliation Committee
to prepare a private member Conciliation Bill acceptable to all parties. The Bill passed its first reading on
14th June and, in order to give the campaign maximum publicity, the Women’s Social & Political Union and

another militant society, the Women’s Freedom
League, joined together with other societies
to mount a spectacular procession through
London. Kate, to her delight, marched with the
actresses,“Everyone was interested in us and
sympathisers to the cause called out ‘Well done,
Actresses.’”
Black Friday‚ 18 November 1910. At a meeting

in Caxton Hall, members such as Kate, heard the
news that, with the two houses locked in a battle
for supremacy, Parliament was to be dissolved.
This meant that the Conciliation Bill would be
killed. In retaliation, the WSPU immediately
ended the truce it and prepared to resume
militant tactics. A deputation of three hundred
women, divided into groups of ten, set out from
Caxton Hall for Parliament and in Parliament
Square met with violence such as they had
never previously encountered. This day has gone
down in Suffrage history as Black Friday. As Kate
reported, “I was almost struck dumb and I felt
sick for hours. It was a most horrible experience.
Saturday, 3 July 1926, Mrs Pankhurst addressing the last Suffrage Demonstration – I have rarely been in anything more unpleasant.
to persuade the government to give votes to women at twenty-one‚ and for peeresses in It was ghastly and the loud laughter & hideous
their own right to be given a seat in the House of Lords. “[After lunch] changed, off with
John‚ bus to Marble Arch and walked to Hyde Park Corner. Sat a little then saw the remarks of the men – so-called gentlemen - even
procession of women for equal franchise rights and to the various meetings and groups.
of the correctly attired top-hatted kind, was
Heard Mrs Pankhurst and she was quite delightful.”
truly awful.”
Campaigning for the Vote: Kate Parry Frye’s Suffrage Diary edited by Elizabeth Crawford can
be ordered direct from the publisher Francis Boutle at the webpage below. Copies are on sale in
bookshops including Brick Lane Bookshop, Broadway Books, Newham Bookshop, Stoke Newington
Bookshop and London Review Bookshop.
www.francisboutle.co.uk/product_info.php?products_id=102&osCsid=3dcc05b5585cb2c1f029
7b220d7f1178
THE BOOK OF SPITALFIELDS LIFE. When I set out to write my daily stories of Spitalfields Life
in 2009, I had hardly written prose before and I did not know where it would lead, but it
was my intention to pursue the notion of recording the stories that nobody else was writing.
Although it was not in my mind that this would become a book, over time many readers wrote
asking for a collection of these stories and then, in the Summer of 2010, several esteemed
publishers came over to Spitalfields to discuss the notion of publication in print. Buy a copy at
spitalfieldslife.com/the-book

I Beg To Report
NEWS ROUNDUP
FROM AROUND THE RIPPER WORLD
GET YOUR HANDS ON HANDS OF THE RIPPER. Less than a year after the death of actress
Angharad Rees, happier news reaches Rip Towers that the movie in which she is remembered
in Ripperological circles, Hands of the Ripper, is to be released on Blu-ray next month. As
we reported in our obituary of Ms Rees (Rip 127), Hands of the Ripper almost single-handedly
lifted Hammer Films out of a long decline, with the performances of Ms Rees and Eric Porter
drawing much praise. The 1971 movie was released on DVD in 2006, and will be available
on Blu-ray from Synapse Films in the US on 9 July 2013; no date has been announced at the
time of writing for the UK release. Hands of the Ripper has been completely restored in high
definition for the Blu-ray release, and will appear in an uncut version with extras including
the orginal theatrical trailer, a featurette titled The Devil’s Bloody Plaything and a still gallery
called Slaughter of Innocence: The Evolution of Hammer Gore.
Hammer Films’ Hands of the Ripper coming to Blu-ray!
Eric Walkuski, joblo.com, 3 May 2013
www.joblo.com/horror-movies/news/hammer-films-hands-of-the-ripper-coming-to-blu-ray
‘Hands of the Ripper’ Blu-ray Announced
HighDefDigest.com, 9 May 2013
bluray.highdefdigest.com/news/show/Disc_Announcements/Synapse_Films/Hands_of_the_Ripper_Blu-ray_
Announced/11659
MORE SPITALFIELDS REDEVELOPMENT. After

last year’s dramatic campaign against the
demolition of the London Fruit and Wool
Exchange as part of the redevelopment of
the block which includes the site of Dorset
Street and Miller’s Court, on 3 May it was
reported that plans have been submitted
to London Borough of Tower Hamlets by
Matthew Lloyd Architects for a new mixed-
use development on Toynbee Street. The
site, currently occupied by a number of
run-down shops, is within the Wentworth
Street Conservation Area, which requires
any future development to be sympathetic
with the historic fabric of the area. The new
scheme comprises 19 flats ranging from one
to four bedrooms, and six commercial units
Artist’s impression of the propsed Toynbee Street development
at ground level. The plans reveal that the
brickwork of the main facade has been inspired by Spitalfields’ silk-weaving traditions, and a spokesman for Matthew
Lloyd Architects said: “In order to knit the new building into the rich history of the surrounding streets, the proposal’s
scale, window proportions, material choice and elevational treatment are all derived from its historic context.”
Toynbee Street housing by Matthew Lloyd Architects
Cate St Hill, BDOnline.com, 3 May 2013
www.bdonline.co.uk/buildings/first-look/toynbee-street-housing-by-matthew-lloyd-architects/5053330.article

ELISABETH’S HOUSE GETS A MAKEOVER. A property development of a different kind
took place recently when writer and researcher Daniel Olsson noticed that Elisabeth
Stride’s childhood home in Torslanda, Gothenburg, had been repainted yellow over its
previous whitewash. Long-time readers of Ripperologist will recall Daniel’s excellent
article on Liz’s early life in Rip 52 (March 2004), which featured several photographs
of the house and other places known to Liz before she travelled to London in 1866.
Elisabeth Stride’s childhood home, May 2013

Courtesy Daniel Olsson

A MINIATURE EAST END. Ripperologist was recently
delighted to have been contacted by Jan Preece, a
model maker from Newport heavily involved in heritage
issues, with photographs of his dioramas of the East End,
including one of Berner Street. Mr Preece spent the 1970s
as a photographer documenting the redevelopment the
dockland area of Pill, Monmouthshire (as it was at the
time), which resulting in an extensive image library of
some 130,000 photographs with a theme of heritage and
community. In the 1980s Mr Preece moved into creating
model making, starting with the production of a short row
of terraced properties, created in plaster, which proved
Diorama of Cleveland Street Workhouse hugely popular and led to the local church asking for help
with a heritage exhibition for which Mr Preece provided
models and images. The success of this persuaded him
to found the Pill Heritage Project in a disused Baptist
chapel, with hundreds of images and artefacts donated
by an interested local community, alongside dioramas
created by Mr Preece. By the 1990s his largest work at
the time, My Time Tunnel Experience, had been devised
and built, funded by the EU and featuring sound effects
and vocal recordings made by the BBC. The Experience
was a 15-foot long interactive diorama of one particular
street in the area badly bombed at the height of the
air raids on Newport Docks in October 1940. In 2011
Mr Preece was approached by James Thurston, a
restaurant entrepreneur involved with the Cleveland
Mr Daly’s Pie and Mash Shop, Brighton, Street Workhouse preservation group, to produce an
featuring a window display of East End dioramas
‘awareness’ model of the building, which was threatened
with demolition. This led to a collaboration with Mr Thurston, an East Ender, asking for a series of models showing
some of the more grizzly aspects of London life, which so far have included the Blind Beggar, Docklands and various
Whitechapel streets. The Berner Street diorama, showing the south end of the street on the corner of Fairclough Street
running as far as the Dutfield’s Yard entrance,
features a pub named The Jack Tar in place
of the shop captured in the famous 1909
photograph. These models are now featured
in the window display of James Thurston’s Mr
Daly’s London Pie and Mash Shop in Brighton
Square, Brighton. Mr Preece tells us his next
project is to create each of the Ripper’s
murder scenes in one diorama, progress of
which will be reported on these pages.
Information on the Pill Heritage Project can
be read at quietwomansrow.com/#/pill-
heritage-centre/4564629467.
Visit www.mrdalyspieshop.co.uk for details
of Mr Daly’s London Pie and Mash Shop.
Diorama of Berner Street

OBITUARY
Jesús ‘Jess’ Franco

12 May 1930 – 2 April 2013
An Appreciation by Eduardo Zinna
Many years ago there was a cinema in Buenos Aires which every Wednesday screened a horror movie triple
bill. The now-playing sections of the newspapers listed titles all of which included the names of Dracula,
Frankenstein or the Wolfman. It was not possible from these titles to know exactly what film would be shown,
since distributors everywhere often change the titles of foreign films to appeal to local audiences. But it was
safe, I thought, to assume that under those titles hid vintage Hammer or Universal productions.
Buenos Aires is a vast city and this cinema was located in an area far from where I lived. There were several
ways of getting there. One was a long ride in a bus which meandered through various sections of the city for
the better part of two hours. Another required taking first a bus, then the underground and then the train. The
journey was not shorter but was far more enjoyable. At one point the railway tracks ran through the grounds of
the School of Agriculture of the University of Buenos Aires. For a few minutes the train crossed wheat and maize
fields gleaming in the sun.
The cinema was across the road from the train station. On my first visit I saw posters, photographs and cards
displayed in the lobby of which none corresponded to the titles listed in the newspapers. A friendly ticket-seller
told me that the cinema management made up the titles. To them, Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolfman were
shorthand for horror. The public knew what they were getting – even if it was not exactly what they had been
promised. The ticket-seller advised me to call before I came. They would tell me what movies they were really
showing.
I didn’t see any of the Hammer or Universal classics I was hoping for at this cinema. But I saw many other
horror movies, American, British, Italian and Japanese, Hammer, Universal and AIP, some adequate, some
hilarious, some surprisingly and gratifyingly good. I saw movies featuring vampires, werewolves, man-made
monsters, mad doctors, shrinking men, psychopathic killers, gigantic apes, mutant insects, invaders from outer
space and creatures from Piedras Blancas or the Black Lagoon. And I saw El horrible Dr Orloff.
It started like a Jack the Ripper movie. A woman dressed in turn-of-the-century clothes staggers drunkenly
down a gas-lit, cobbled street carrying a bottle and singing at the top of her lungs. The score - loud, anachronistic
and discordant, all percussion and no tune – presages mayhem. But no harm comes to the woman as she reaches
home, climbs the stairs and enters her room. She takes another sip from her bottle, makes faces at her reflection
in the mirror and opens a wardrobe. The monster we’ve been waiting for is inside. He is a tall, wiry man in a
billowing black cape. His eyes are bulging and sightless and his unlined, scarred face looks like an ill-fitting mask.
He moves like a tailor’s dummy or a bird of prey – stiffly and joltingly - and he bites. As the woman screams and
screams, he overpowers her and carries her away. The neighbours, terrified, watch him go in silence.
Dr Orloff is a brilliant surgeon and former prison physician. He has brought a sadistic murderer, Morpho, back
from the dead to help him entrap young women whose skin he grafts on the badly scarred face and body of his
daughter, the victim of an accident in his laboratory. When night falls Dr Orloff himself dresses in evening clothes
and tours the nightclubs looking for women he can lure back to the old house where he lives. As the number of
victims keeps growing, a capable young Inspector takes over the investigation. He is engaged to a ballerina who,
as it turns out, resembles Dr Orloff’s daughter like one drop of water resembles another – perhaps because both
characters are played by the same actress. The Inspector meets with little success in his search for the killer
and his career prospects begin to look less and less promising. His fiancée decides to help. She tarts up and goes
nightclubbing in the hope of finding the killer. Unsurprisingly, she does. No less unsurprisingly, the Inspector
arrives in the nick of time to rescue her.

You never knew when the action of Dr Orloff took place or where. A poster showed a 1912 date for a
performance at the Opera but the décor of the nightclub was decidedly 1950s. There were some indications
that the city shown was somewhere in France, but the characters had German, English or Russian names, spoke
transatlantic English (in the dubbed version I saw) and sang in Spanish. But the sets were suitably weather-worn,
the lighting was film-noirish chiaroscuro and the camera movements went from stately to jerky, always in the
best interests of the plot. Some scenes stayed in the mind: two men carrying a coffin in silhouette against a grey
sky, a woman becoming increasingly anxious as she looks for her suitor in a deserted house. You could see the
influences at work: Fritz Lang, Caligari, Edgar Wallace, Karl Freund, Orson Welles, John Brahm’s The Lodger,
Georges Franju’s Eyes Without a Face. You knew the thriller you were watching hadn’t cost a lot, but you didn’t
mind. You could discern the sharp intelligence behind the tawdry costumes and the trite dialogue.
I had almost forgotten The Awful Dr Orloff when it turned up on late-night television in New York. By then I
knew that it was in fact a Spanish film originally entitled Gritos en la noche (Cries in the Night). Its director was
Jesús Franco – though he liked to call himself Jess. Born in Madrid in 1930, Franco had served his apprenticeship
as an assistant director in Spanish films and was barely 30 when he made Dr Orloff, which was his first important
film and, some say, also his best. In subsequent years he directed nearly 200 films, many of which he also wrote,
scored, and acted in. No one claims to have seen them all.
Throughout his long and prolific career, Franco specialized in exploitation movies laced with violence and
sex. He had better opportunities; he directed the second unit for Orson Welles’s Chimes at Midnight and was
occasionally given marketable stars for his productions: Christopher Lee, Jack Palance, Maria Schell, Klaus
Kinski, Helmut Berger. But he seemed to prefer the freedom of working with small budgets and tight schedules.
Perhaps he just wanted to make films. Franco delved into classic horror in Count Dracula, into gothic horror in
Prisoner of Frankenstein, into suspense in The Diabolical Dr Z, into adventure in The Blood of Fu Manchu, into
jungle adventure in Golden Temple Amazons, into science-fiction in Attack of the Robots, into women-in-prison
melodrama in 99 Women, into women-in-an-insane-asylum melodrama in Wanda, the Wicked Warden, into
murder mystery in Tendre et perverse Emanuelle (not his title), into Sadeian drama in Eugenie... the Story of
Her Journey Into Perversion, into erotism in Vampyros Lesbos, into soft-core pornography in Venus in Furs, into
hard-core pornography in Die Marquise von Sade and into private-eye action in Al Pereira vs. the Alligator Ladies
– his last film, completed shortly before his death on 2 April 2013 at the age of 82.
Perhaps Franco also thought The Awful Dr Orloff was his best film. He remade it several times under different
names and resurrected Orloff to resume his nefarious activities in a number of sequels. In 1976 he revived the
same story, down to identical plot points, and filmed it as Jack the Ripper. A kind physician who treats the poor
by day becomes the Ripper by night because his own mother was on
the game. The similarities do not end there. The Inspector in charge
of the case is engaged to a ballerina who happens to resemble, not
the killer’s sister this time, but his mother. The killer’s lair is reached
by water. A man fishes a valuable jewel out of the Thames. An artist
is brought to the police station to draw an identikit of the killer. The
Inspector’s fiancée runs into the killer, who notices her resemblance
to his errant mother. The Inspector chases a man thinking he is the
Ripper, but he turns out to be somebody else. The mother of one of the
victims tells the police that her daughter was a good girl. The killer
frequents a music-hall where he finds his victims. The Inspector’s
fiancée decides to help. She tarts up and goes to the music-hall in the
hope of finding the killer, and she does. The main difference between
the two films lies in their endings. Although Jack the Ripper is far
gorier and explicit than Dr Orloff, its ending is oddly subdued, even
anticlimactic. There is even a hint that the Ripper might get away
with his crimes. Perhaps Franco identified with the old reprobate out
to shock the establishment.
Near the end of his life, Franco was asked why he had made so
many movies. He replied that he had made only one movie – a very long one.

Victorian Fiction
Glámr
By SABINE BARING-GOULD
Edited with an Introduction and Notes by Eduardo Zinna
INTRODUCTION
The author of our Victorian Fiction offering for this month, the Reverend Sabine Baring-Gould,
spent most of his life in a world without electricity, automobiles, aeroplanes, hoovers or indoor
plumbing. Such modern amenities as television, social networks, sliced bread, smartphones and
digital magazines did not exist outside the minds of clairvoyants and early science-fiction writers.
Despite their absence – or perhaps on account of it – Baring-Gould mastered half a dozen disciplines,
delved in archaeology, topography and musicology, published hundreds of books, articles and
monographs, restored his church and remodelled his home, fathered 15 children and reached the
ripe old age of 89 years, 11 months and 2 days.
Sabine Baring-Gould was born in Exeter on 28 January 1834. After graduating
from Cambridge, he spent seven years as a teacher in Sussex, where he
validated his nascent reputation for eccentricity by giving lessons with his
pet bat perched on his shoulder. In his late twenties, he took holy orders. He
served his curacy at Horbury Bridge, Yorkshire, where he met Grace Taylor,
a 16-year-old mill girl, with whom he promptly fell in love. He sent her to
be educated at York, bearing all the expense himself. They were married in
1868, not without raising some eyebrows. Their long life together was one of
great happiness. In 1871 Baring-Gould became rector at East Mersea, on the
Essex coast. On his father’s death in 1872, he inherited Lewtrenchard Manor,
Devon, where his family had lived for nearly three centuries. In 1881 he
exchanged his Essex living for the rectory of Lewtrenchard, where he would
remain for the rest of his life. He died on 2 January 1924 and was buried next
to his wife, who had died in 1916.
Alongside his work as parson, Baring-Gould devoted
himself to a wide range of activities. He participated
in archæologic excavations in Britain and France. He
collected and popularised folk songs and music from
The Reverend Sabine Baring-Gould Devon and Cornwall, an enterprise that he regarded
as the most important achievement of his life. He
published books on antiquities, history, folklore, travel, religion and mythology. His novels
included Mehalah (1880), John Herring (1883), Court Royal (1886), Red Spider (1887), The
Pennycomequicks (1889), Cheap Jack Zita (1893), Broom Squire (1896) and Guavas, the Tinner
(1897). His non-fiction included the highly readable Book of Were-Wolves (1865) and Curious
Myths of the Middle Ages (1866) and the massive, sixteen-volume The Lives of the Saints
(1872 and 1877). He compiled many collections of sermons and wrote the hymns Onward
Christian Soldiers and Now the Day is Over.

In 1862, Baring-Gould went to Iceland with the declared purpose of examining the scenes made famous by the
Icelandic Sagas. On 9 June, he boarded the Arcturus, a Danish steamer that carried mail, cargo and passengers
between Grangemouth, Copenhagen, the Faroe Islands and Reykjavik. A few days after his arrival in Iceland he
began his journey through the desolate interior of the country in the company of three fellow travellers, a guide
and 25 riding and pack horses.
As they wound their way through mountain, heath and glen, Baring-Gould regaled his companions with fragments
of the sagas he had translated with the aid of a German-Icelandic grammar. His favourite was the 13th-century
Grettir’s Saga, the story of Grettir the Strong, who lifted boulders of enormous weight, carried a bull on his
shoulders and killed monsters, berserkers and bears. Although undoubtedly courageous, Grettir was headstrong,
wilful and bad-tempered, qualities which eventually brought ruin upon himself and his family. Wrongly accused
of arson and murder, he was outlawed through the length and breadth of Iceland. After many years and many
adventures, he sought shelter in the Isle of Drángey. His friends and relatives asked the lawgiver1 to repeal the
sentence of outlawry passed against him. The lawgiver adjudged that the sentence would become null and void
after twenty years. Yet, before the twenty years were over, Thornbjorn the Hook, Grettir’s sworn enemy, used
sorcery to bring a wasting disease upon him and invaded his island refuge with two dozen followers. They killed
Grettir with their swords and their spears. As he lay dead on the ground, the Hook cut off his right hand and his
head.
After 40 days of travel, Baring-Gould discovered that there would not be enough grass on the ground to
sustain their horses and he would therefore not be able to complete his planned journey. Somewhat crestfallen,
he returned to Britain two months after his departure. The following year, he published Iceland: Its Scenes
and Sagas, an account of his journey enriched by descriptions of the country and its people, history, customs,
landscape, fauna and flora, and including appendices containing a list of published sagas, a guide for sportsmen
and a statement of his expenses down to the last penny. He had disbursed £100 18s. 6d., roughly twice his yearly
income as a teacher.
In Chapter VII of Iceland, entitled The Vampire’s Grave, Baring-Gould recalled how, as they rode through the
bleakest part of the heath, their guide pointed to a 15-foot high, bell-shaped, moss-covered tumulus rising at the
bend of a stream. ‘There is Glámr’s grave,’ he said. Soon afterwards, Baring-Gould was telling his companions the
story of The Valley of Shadows, where Grettir the strong met Glámr the undead.
As Baring-Gould pointed it himself, the story had been told centuries earlier in chapters 82 to 85 of Grettir’s
Saga. He adhered closely to the earlier text, reproducing faithfully the description of the characters, the sequence
of events and the flow of the dialogue. He supplied a frame-story, inserted exchanges between himself and his
companions and added passages which provided a 19th-century outlook to the 13th-century story. In a footnote
he described the story as ‘a specimen of a very remarkable form of Icelandic superstition.’ ‘It is so horrible,’ he
added, ‘that I forewarn all those who have weak nerves, to skip it.’
Grettir’s Saga calls Glámr a draugur, a word usually translated as ghost or spectre. Baring-Gould calls him a
vampire. There are indeed many similarities between the draugar of Scandinavia and the vampires of Eastern
Europe. The draugur or aptrgangr (literally ‘after-goer’ or ‘one who walks after death’) is an undead creature
bearing the unmistakeable appearance of a walking corpse. During the day he rests in the grave or the burial
mound. At night he rises from his dwelling-place and walks the earth to satiate his hunger and appease his hatred
of the living. He can increase his size and his weight at will, transform himself into wisps of smoke and move
through the earth, as though swimming through solid rock. He can create temporary darkness during the hours of
light or conjure up a mist to conceal his approach or hide his actions. To slay his victims he crushes them under his
massive weight, eats their flesh, drinks their blood or swallows them whole. At times the draugur displays magical
powers: shape-shifting, control of the weather and knowledge of the future.
Although iron weapons could harm the draugar, they did not suffice to destroy them. Only a strong, brave hero
could defeat such a worthy opponent. The hero must wrestle with the draugur until he brings him to his knees.
Then he must cut off the draugur’s head, burn the remains and bury the ashes in a remote spot or throw them
far out into the sea.
1 In Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, Chapter IV, Thingvellir, Baring-Gould wrote: ‘Althing was presided over by a lawgiver,
‘whose bounden duty was to recite publicly the whole law within the space to which the tenure of his office was limited.
To him, too, all who were in need of a legal opinion or of information as to what was and was not law, had a right to turn
during the meeting of Althing.’’ See note 9.

The Valley of Shadows is not usually listed among the seminal vampire tales. A tradition of vampire fiction
already existed at the time of its publication in 1863: poems by Ossenfelder, Goethe and Bürger, Polidori’s The
Vampyre, plays by Nodier, Dumas and Boucicault, Preskett Prest’s Varney the Vampire, a series of operas, Théophile
Gautier’s La Morte Amoureuse. But The Valley of Shadows preceded the two works on which, more than on any
other, rests the iconography of the vampire: LeFanu’s Carmilla and Stoker’s Dracula. No-one who has read Dracula
will fail to notice how closely the powers of the vampire resemble those of the draugur. No-one who has read
about the Count’s ‘sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory’ will fail to notice Glámr’s ‘very white protruding teeth’.
Forty years after the appearance of Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, Baring-Gould revised The Valley of
Shadows, retitled it Glámr and included it in A Book of Ghosts, published in 1904. The stories collected in that
volume are elegant, sardonic tales habitually centred on supernatural presences, often of a foreign persuasion,
which disturb the peaceful lives of upper-class Englishmen at home or abroad. They include the French waiter who
pilfers tips from his colleagues, the red-haired kitchen maid who looks over people’s shoulders and the Arab boy
who seeks revenge on the scoundrel who led him to drink. Dressed in rags and reeking of the grave, Glámr stands
out among these gentle ghosts. He is far more earthy, terrifying and unforgettable than they are.
In Iceland, Baring-Gould wrote: ‘In telling the Sagas, one should throw himself heart and soul into their spirit
and not allow oneself to be bound down and chained too closely to the letter.’ He has observed his own dictum in
Glámr, and, mutatis mutandis, so have I in the present text. I have used as a basis Glámr as it appears in A Book of
Ghosts, but I have consulted both The Vampire’s Grave and Grettir’s Saga. I have restored to the text some words,
usages and phrases found in The Vampire’s Grave - including what I consider the most memorable line in the story.
I have updated some place names and included some Icelandic geographical names next to Baring-Gould’s English
translations. I have, finally, revised Baring-Gould’s Victorian punctuation, a shade too full of colons, semicolons
and dashes for the modern reader.
Glámr
By Sabine Baring-Gould
The following story is found in Grettir’s Saga, an Icelandic Saga, composed in the thirteenth century,
or that comes to us in the form then given to it, but it is a redaction of a Saga of much earlier date. Most
of it is thoroughly historical, and its statements are corroborated by other Sagas. The following incident
was introduced to account for the fact that the outlaw Grettir would run any risk rather than spend the
long winter nights alone in the dark.
At the beginning of the eleventh century there
stood, a little way up Forsæludur, the Valley of
Shadows2 in the north of Iceland, a small farm,
occupied by a worthy bonder,3 named Thorhall,
and his wife. The farmer was not exactly a
chieftain, but he was well enough connected to be
considered respectable. To back up his gentility he
possessed numerous flocks of sheep and a goodly
drove of oxen. Thorhall would have been a happy
man but for one circumstance—his sheepwalks4
were haunted.
2 In Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, Baring-Gould mentioned ‘a glen which, from its overhanging crags and generally sombre
aspect had, from time immemorial, been called the Valley of Shadows’. He added that it was always famous for being a
stronghold of robbers and men-slayers.
3 In the Preface to Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, Baring-Gould wrote: ‘I have used a few antiquated and provincial words
in my versions of the Sagas, where such words closely resembled the Icelandic.’ Among the words listed was bonder:
farmer, or free yeoman. The Icelandic word used In Grettir’s Saga is bondi, which indeed resembles closely the English
word chosen by Baring-Gould.

Not a herdsman would remain with him. He bribed, he threatened, entreated, all to no purpose. One
shepherd after another left his service, and things came to such a pass that he determined on asking advice
at the next annual council. Thorhall saddled his horses, adjusted his packs, provided himself with hobbles,5
cracked his long Icelandic whip, and cantered along the road, and in due time reached Thingvellir.6
Skapti Thorodd’s son was lawgiver at that time, and as everyone considered him a man of the utmost
prudence and able to give the best advice, our friend from the Valley of Shadows made straight for his
booth.
‘An awkward predicament, certainly—to have large droves of sheep and no one to look after them,’
said Skapti, nibbling the nail of his thumb, and shaking his wise head—a head as stuffed with law as a
ptarmigan’s crop is stuffed with blaeberries.7 ‘Now I’ll tell you what—as you have asked my advice, I will
help you to a shepherd; a character in his way, a man of dull intellect, to be sure, but strong as a bull.’
‘I do not care about his wits so long as he can look after sheep,’ answered Thorhall.
‘You may rely on his being able to do that,’ said Skapti. ‘He is a stout, plucky fellow; a Swede from
Sylgsdale, if you know where that is.’
Towards the break-up of the council, ‘Thing’8 they call it in Iceland, two greyish-white horses belonging
to Thorhall slipped their hobbles and strayed, so the good man had to hunt after them himself, which
shows how short of servants he was. He crossed Sledaass, thence he bent his way to Armannsfell,9 and
just by Godaskogr, the Priest’s Wood, he met a strange-looking man driving before him a horse laden with
faggots. The fellow was tall and stalwart. His face involuntarily attracted Thorhall’s attention, for the
eyes, of an ashen grey, were large and staring, the powerful jaw was furnished with very white protruding
teeth, and around the low forehead hung bunches of coarse wolf-grey hair.
‘Pray, what is your name, my man?’ asked the farmer, pulling
up. ‘Glámr, and please you,’ replied the wood-cutter.
Thorhall stared. Then, with a preliminary cough, he asked
how Glámr liked faggot-picking.
‘Not much,’ was the answer. ‘I prefer shepherd life.’
‘Will you come with me?’ asked Thorhall. ‘Skapti has handed
you over to me, and I want a shepherd this winter uncommonly.’
‘If I serve you, it is on the understanding that I come or go
as it pleases me. I tell you I am a bit truculent if things do not
go just to my thinking.’
‘I shall not object to this,’ answered the bonder. ‘So I may
count on your services?’
‘Wait a moment! You have not told me whether there be any drawback.’
‘I must acknowledge that there is one,’ said Thorhall. ‘In fact, the sheepwalks have got a bad name for
bogies.’10
5 Hobble: A device, such as a rope or strap, put around the legs of an animal (a horse, for example) so as to hamper but not
prevent movement.
6 Thingvellir or Þingvellir (The Plains of the Assembly) is located in Bláskógabyggð in south-western Iceland. The Icelandic
Assembly or Parliament, the Althing or Alþingi, was established at Thingvellir in 930 and remained there until 1789. See
note 9.
7 Blaeberry: A small, dark blue edible berry which grows on bushes on hills and woods in northern Europe. Blaeberries are
known in Britain by various local names, including bilberries, wimberries and myrtle blueberries.
8 Armannsfell: Mountain of Armann the troll. See notes 3 and 11.
9 Thing (Old Norse, Old English and Icelandic, þing; German, Dutch, ding; modern Scandinavian languages, ting): the
governing assembly made up of the free people of the community where disputes were solved and political decisions were
made.
10 Bogy (also bogey): An evil spirit.

‘Pshaw! I’m not the man to be scared at
shadows,’ laughed Glámr, ‘so here’s my hand
to it. I’ll be with you at the beginning of the
winter night.’
Well, after this they parted, and presently
the farmer found his ponies. Having thanked
Skapti for his advice and assistance, he got his
horses together and trotted home.
Summer, and then autumn passed, but not
a word about the new shepherd reached the
Valley of Shadows. The winter storms began
to bluster up the glen, driving the flying snow-
flakes and massing the white drifts at every winding of the vale. Ice formed in the shallows of the river, and
the streams, which in summer trickled down the ribbed scarps, were now transmuted into icicles.
One gusty night a violent blow at the door startled all in the farm. In another moment Glámr, tall as a
troll11, stood in the hall glowering out of his wild eyes, his grey hair matted with frost, his teeth rattling
and snapping with cold, his face blood-red in the glare of the fire which smouldered in the centre of the
hall. Thorhall jumped up and greeted him warmly, but the housewife was too frightened to be very cordial.
Weeks passed, and the new shepherd was daily on the moors with his flock; his loud and deep-toned
voice was often borne down on the blast as he shouted to the sheep driving them into fold. His presence
in the house always produced gloom, and if he spoke it sent a thrill through the women, who openly
proclaimed their aversion for him.
There was a church near the byre12, but Glámr never crossed the threshold; he hated psalmody13;
apparently he was an indifferent Christian. On the vigil of the Nativity Glámr rose early and shouted for
meat. ‘Meat!’ exclaimed the housewife; ‘no man calling himself a Christian touches flesh to-day. Tomorrow
is the holy Christmas Day, and this is a fast.’
‘All superstition!’ roared Glámr. ‘As far as I can see, men are no better now than they were in the bonny
heathen time. Bring me meat, and make no more ado about it.’
‘You may be quite certain,’ protested the good wife, ‘if Church rule be not kept, ill-luck will follow.’
Glámr ground his teeth and clenched his hands. ‘Meat! I will have meat, or—’ In fear and trembling the
poor woman obeyed.
The day was raw and windy; masses of grey vapour rolled up from the Arctic Ocean, and hung in piles
about the mountain-tops. Now and then a scud of frozen fog, composed of minute particles of ice, swept
along the glen, covering bar and beam with feathery hoar frost. As the day declined, snow began to fall
in large flakes like the down of the eider duck. One moment there was a lull in the wind, and then the
deep-toned shout of Glámr, high up the moor slopes, was heard distinctly by the congregation assembling
for the first vespers of Christmas Day. Darkness came on, deep as that in the rayless abysses of the caverns
under the lava, and still the snow fell thicker. The lights from the church windows sent a yellow haze far
out into the night, and every flake burned golden as it swept within the ray. The bell in the lych-gate14
clanged for evensong, and the wind puffed the sound far up the glen; perhaps it reached the herdsman’s
ear. Hark! Someone caught a distant sound or shriek, which it was he could not tell, for the wind muttered
and mumbled about the church eaves, and then with a fierce whistle scudded over the graveyard fence.
11 Troll: Mountain gnome or demon, generally of prodigious size and power. Cf. Baring-Gould, Sabine: Iceland: Its Scenes and
Sagas, Chapter I.
12 Byre: farm (See note 3 and the Preface to Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas).
13 Psalmody: the singing of psalms and hymns in general. In the wider sense of the term it may denote sacred song as distinct
from profane, or church singing as contrasted with secular.
14 ‘It was not a night for a dog to be out in.’: This sentence may remind some readers of W C Fields’s line in the 1933 short
The Fatal Glass of Beer: ‘It ain’t a fit night out for man or beast!’

Glámr had not returned when the service was over. Thorhall suggested a search, but no man would
accompany him, and no wonder! It was not a night for a dog to be out in.15 Besides, the tracks were a foot
deep in snow. The family sat up all night, waiting, listening, trembling; but no Glámr came home.
Dawn broke at last, wan and blear in the south. The clouds hung down like great sheets, full of snow,
almost to bursting.
A party was soon formed to search for the missing man. A sharp scramble brought them to high land, and
the ridge between the two rivers which join in Vatnsdalr was thoroughly examined. Here and there were
found the scattered sheep, shuddering under an icicled rock, or half buried in a snow-drift. No trace yet
of the keeper. A dead ewe lay at the bottom of a crag. It had staggered over in the gloom, and had been
dashed to pieces.
Presently the whole party were called together about a
trampled spot in the heithi16, where evidently a death-struggle
had taken place, for earth and stone were tossed about, and
the snow was blotched with large splashes of blood. A gory track
led up the mountain, and the farm-servants were following it,
when a cry, almost of agony, from one of the lads, made them
turn. In looking behind a rock, the boy had come upon the
corpse of the shepherd. It was livid and swollen to the size of
a bullock. It lay on its back with the arms extended. The snow
had been scrabbled up by the puffed hands in the death-agony, and the staring glassy eyes gazed out of
the ashen-grey, upturned face into the vaporous canopy overhead. From the purple lips lolled the tongue,
which in the last throes had been bitten through by the white fangs, and a discoloured stream which had
flowed from it was now an icicle.
With trouble the dead man was raised on a litter, and carried to a gill-edge17, but beyond this he could
not be borne; his weight waxed more and more, the bearers toiled beneath their burden, their foreheads
became beaded with sweat. Though strong men, they were crushed to the ground. Consequently, the
corpse was left at the ravine-head, and the men returned to the farm. Next day their efforts to lift
Glámr’s bloated carcass, and remove it to consecrated ground, were unavailing. On the third day a priest
accompanied them, but the body was nowhere to be found. Another expedition without the priest was
made, and on this occasion the corpse was discovered; so a cairn was raised over the spot.
Two nights after this one of the thralls18 who had gone after the cows burst into the stófa19 with a
face blank and scared. He staggered to a seat and fainted. On recovering his senses, in a broken voice he
assured all who crowded about him that he had seen Glámr walking past him as he left the door of the
stable, On the following evening a houseboy was found in a fit under the tún20 wall, and he remained an
idiot to his dying day. Some of the women next saw a face which, though blown out and discoloured, they
recognised as that of Glámr, looking in upon them through a window of the dairy. In the twilight, Thorhall
himself met the dead man, who stood and glowered at him, but made no attempt to injure his master.
The haunting did not end there. Nightly a heavy tread was heard around the house, and a hand feeling
along the walls, sometimes thrust in at the windows, at others clutching the woodwork, and breaking it to
splinters. However, when the spring came round the disturbances lessened, and as the sun obtained full
power, ceased altogether.
15 Lych-gate: ‘the roofed gateway to a churchyard which receives a dead body before burial.’ Cf. Crystal, David: By Hook or
By Crook: A Journey in Search of English, HarperPress, London, 2007.
16 Heithi: heath
17 Gill: narrow glen. (See note 3 and the Preface to Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas).
18 Thrall (Old Norse: þræll): a serf or ‘unfree’ servant. The three social classes in Viking Scandinavia were the jarl, or
nobleman, the bondi or free yeoman, and the þræll.
19 Stófa: hall.
20 Tún: farmyard, meadow surrounding the house, homestead.

That summer a vessel from Norway dropped anchor in Húnavatn. Thorhall visited it, and found on board
a man named Thorgaut, who was in search of work.
‘What do you say to being my shepherd?’ asked the bonder.
‘I should very much like the office,’ answered Thorgaut. ‘I am as strong as two ordinary men, and a
handy fellow to boot.’
‘I will not engage you without forewarning you of the terrible things you may have to encounter during
the winter night.’
‘Pray, what may they be?’
‘Ghosts and hobgoblins,’ answered the farmer. ‘A fine dance they lead me, I can promise you.’
‘I fear them not,’ answered Thorgaut. ‘I shall be with you at cattle-slaughtering time.’
At the appointed season the man
came, and soon established himself as a
favourite in the house. He romped with the
children, chucked the maidens under the
chin, helped his fellow-servants, gratified
the housewife by admiring her skyr21, and
was just as much liked as his predecessor
had been detested. He was a devil-may-
care fellow, too, and made no bones of his
contempt for the ghost, expressing hopes
of meeting him face to face, which made
his master look grave, and his mistress
shudderingly cross herself. As the winter
came on, strange sights and sounds began to alarm the folk, but these never frightened Thorgaut. He slept
too soundly at night to hear the tread of feet about the door, and was too short-sighted to catch glimpses
of a grizzly monster striding up and down, in the twilight, before its cairn.
At last Christmas Eve came round, and Thorgaut went out as usual with his sheep. ‘Have a care, man,’
urged the bonder, ‘go not near to the gill-head, where Glámr lies.’
‘Tut, tut! Fear not for me. I shall be back by vespers.’
‘God grant it,’ sighed the housewife, ‘but ‘tis not a day for risks, to be sure.’
Twilight came on; a feeble light hung over the south, one white streak above the heath land to the south.
Far off in southern lands it was still day, but here the darkness gathered in apace, and men came from
Vatnsdalr for evensong, to herald in the night when Christ was born. Christmas Eve! How different in Saxon
England! There the great ashen faggot is rolled along the hall with torch and taper; the mummers dance
with their merry jingling bells; the boar’s head, with gilded tusks, ‘bedecked with holly and rosemary,’ is
brought in by the steward to a flourish of trumpets.
How different, too, where the Varanger22 cluster round the imperial throne in the mighty church of
the Eternal Wisdom23 at this very hour! Outside, the air is soft from breathing over the Bosphorus, which
flashes tremulously beneath the stars. The orange and laurel leaves in the palace gardens are still exhaling
fragrance in the hush of the Christmas night.
21 Skyr: curd made from milk.
22 Varanger: From Old Norse væringi, originally a compound of vár ‘pledge’ and gengi ‘companion’, ie ‘a sworn person’ or
‘a foreigner who has taken service with a new lord by a treaty of fealty to him’. The Varangian Guard was an elite unit of
the Byzantine Army whose members served as personal bodyguards of the Emperors. The Guard was created by Emperor
Basil II in 988 and was active until the mid-14th century. Composed primarily of Norsemen for its first hundred years, it
began to see increased recruitment of Anglo-Saxons after the invasion of England by the Normans.
23 Church of the Eternal Wisdom: Hagia Sophia (from the Greek for Holy Wisdom), located in Istanbul, Turkey - formerly
Byzantium and Constantinople. Hagia Sophia, or St Sophia, has been an Orthodox patriarchal basilica, a Roman Catholic
cathedral and a mosque. In 1931 it was secularized and in 1935 opened as a museum.

But it is different here! The wind is piercing as a two-edged sword; blocks of ice crash and grind along
the coast of the Hunaflói,24 and the lake waters are congealed to stone. Aloft, the Aurora25 flames crimson,
flinging long streamers to the zenith, and then suddenly dissolving into a sea of pale green light. The
natives are waiting round the church door, but no Thorgaut has returned.
They find him next morning, lying across Glámr’s cairn, with his spine, his leg, and arm-bones shattered.
He is conveyed to the churchyard, and a cross is set up at his head. He sleeps till the Resurrection,
peacefully. Not so Glámr. He becomes more furious than ever. No one will remain with Thorhall now, except
an old cowherd who has always served the family, and who had long ago dandled his present master on his
knee.
‘All the cattle will be lost if I leave,’ said the carle26, ‘It shall never be told of me that I deserted Thorhall
from fear of a spectre.’
Matters grew rapidly worse. Outbuildings were broken into of a night, and their woodwork was rent and
shattered. The house door was violently shaken, and great pieces of it were torn away. The gables of the
house were also pulled furiously to and fro.
One morning before dawn, the old man went to the stable. An hour later, his mistress arose, and taking
her milking pails, followed him. As she reached the door of the stable, a terrible sound from within—the
bellowing of the cattle, mingled with the deep notes of an unearthly voice—sent her back shrieking to the
house. Thorhall leaped out of bed, caught up a weapon, and hastened to the cow-house. On opening the
door, he found the cattle goring each other. Slung across the stone that separated the stalls was something.
Thorhall stepped up to it, felt it, looked close. It was the cowherd, perfectly dead, his feet on one side of
the slab, his head on the other, and his spine snapped in twain.
The bonder now moved with his family to Tunga, another farm owned by him lower down the valley. It
was too venturesome living during the midwinter night at the haunted farm, and it was not till the sun had
returned as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and had dispelled night with its phantoms, that he went back
to the Valley of Shadows. In the meantime, his little girl’s health had given way under the repeated alarms
of the winter. She became paler every day. With the autumn flowers she faded, and was laid beneath the
mould of the churchyard in time for the first snows to spread a virgin pall over her small grave.
At this time Grettir—a hero of great fame, and
a native of the north of the island—was in Iceland,
and as the hauntings of this vale were matters of
gossip throughout the district, he inquired about
them, and resolved on visiting the scene. So Grettir
busked himself27 for a cold ride, mounted his horse,
and in due course of time drew rein at the door of
Thorhall’s farm with the request that he might be
accommodated there for the night.
‘Ahem!’ coughed the bonder. ‘Perhaps you are not
aware—’
‘I am perfectly aware of all. I want to catch sight of the troll.’
‘But your horse is sure to be killed.’
‘I will risk it. Glámr I must meet, so there’s an end of it.’
‘I am delighted to see you,’ spoke the bonder. ‘At the same time, should mischief befall you, don’t lay
the blame at my door.’
‘Never fear, man.’
24 Hunaflói: Huna Bay, in northern Iceland.

25 Aurora: (poet.) dawn, sunrise; the Roman goddess of dawn.
26 Carle: (Obsolete) a peasant, bondman, or villain.

So they shook hands. The horse was put into the strongest stable, Thorhall made Grettir as good cheer
as he was able, and then, as the visitor was sleepy, all retired to rest.
The night passed quietly, and no sounds indicated the presence of a restless spirit. The horse, moreover,
was found next morning in good condition, enjoying his hay.
‘This is unexpected!’ exclaimed the bonder, gleefully. ‘Now, where’s the saddle? We’ll clap it on, and
then good-bye, and a merry journey to you.’
‘Good-bye!’ echoed Grettir; ‘I am going to stay here another night.’
‘You had best be advised,’ urged Thorhall. ‘If misfortune should overtake you, I know that all your
kinsmen would visit it on my head.’
‘I have made up my mind to stay,’ said Grettir, and he looked so dogged that Thorhall opposed him no
more.
All was quiet next night. Not a sound roused Grettir from his slumber. Next morning he went with the
farmer to the stable. The strong wooden door was shivered and driven in. They stepped across it. Grettir
called to his horse, but there was no responsive whinny.
‘I am afraid—’ began Thorhall. Grettir leaped in, and found the poor brute dead, and with its neck
broken.
‘Now,’ said Thorhall quickly, ‘I’ve got a capital horse—a skewbald—down by Tunga. I shall not be many
hours in fetching it. Your saddle is here, I think, and then you will just have time to reach—’
‘I stay here another night,’ interrupted Grettir.
‘I implore you to depart,’ said Thorhall.
‘My horse is slain!’
‘But I will provide you with another.’
‘Friend,’ answered Grettir, turning so sharply round that the farmer jumped back, half frightened, ‘no
man ever did me an injury without rueing it. Now, your demon herdsman has been the death of my horse.
He must be taught a lesson.’
‘Would that he were!’ groaned Thorhall. ‘But mortal must not face him. Go in peace and receive
compensation from me for what has happened.’
‘I must revenge my horse.’
‘An obstinate man will have his own way! But if you run your head against a stone wall, don’t be angry
because you get a broken pate.’
Night came on. Grettir ate a hearty supper and was right jovial; not so Thorhall, who had his misgivings.
At bedtime the latter crept into his crib, which, in the manner of old Icelandic beds, opened out of the
hall, as berths do out of a cabin. Grettir, however, determined on remaining up, so he flung himself on a
bench with his feet against the posts of the high seat, and his back against Thorhall’s crib. Then he wrapped
one lappet28 of his fur coat round his feet, the other about his head, keeping the neck-opening in front of
his face, so that he could look through into the hall.
There was a fire burning on the hearth, a smouldering heap of red embers. Every now and then a twig
flared up and crackled, giving Grettir glimpses of the rafters, as he lay with his eyes wandering among
the mysteries of the smoke-blackened roof. The wind whistled softly overhead. The clerestory windows,
covered with the amnion29 of sheep, admitted now and then a sickly yellow glare from the full moon,
which, however, shot a beam of pure silver through the smoke-hole in the roof. A dog without began to
howl. The cat, which had long been sitting demurely watching the fire, stood up with raised back and
bristling tail, then darted behind some chests in a corner. The hall door was in a sad plight. It had been
27 Busk (v. tr. pp. boune): to make ready. (See note 3 and the Preface to Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas).
28 Lappet: a decorative flap or fold in a ceremonial headdress or garment.
29 Amnion: A thin, tough, membranous sac filled with a serous fluid in which the embryo or foetus of an animal is suspended.

so riven by the spectre that it was made firm by wattles only, and the moon glinted athwart the crevices.
Soothingly the river, not yet frozen over, prattled over its shingly bed as it swept round the knoll on which
stood the farm. Grettir heard the breathing of the sleeping women in the adjoining chamber, and the sigh
of the housewife as she turned in her bed.
Click! click! It is only the frozen turf on the roof cracking with the cold. The wind lulls completely. The
night is very still without.
Hark! A heavy tread, beneath which the snow yields. Every footfall goes straight to Grettir’s heart. A
crash on the turf overhead! By all the saints in paradise! The vampire is treading on the roof.
For one moment the chimney-gap is completely darkened. Glámr is looking down it. The flash of the red
ash is reflected in the two lustreless eyes. Then the moon glances sweetly in once more, and the heavy
tramp of Glámr is audibly moving towards the farther end of the hall. A thud—he has leaped down. Grettir
feels the board at his back quivering, for Thorhall is awake and is trembling in his bed. The steps pass round
to the back of the house, and then the snapping of the wood shows that the creature is destroying some of
the outhouse doors. He tires of this apparently, for his footfall comes clear towards the main entrance to
the hall. The moon is veiled behind a watery cloud, and by the uncertain glimmer Grettir fancies that he
sees two dark hands thrust in above the door. His apprehensions are verified, for, with a loud snap, a long
strip of panel breaks, and light is admitted. Snap—snap! Another portion gives way, and the gap becomes
larger. Then the wattles slip from their places, and a dark arm rips them out in bunches, and flings them
away. There is a cross-beam to the door, holding a bolt which slides into a stone groove. Against the grey
light, Grettir sees a huge black figure heaving itself over the bar. Crack! That has given way, and the rest
of the door falls in shivers to the earth.
‘Oh, God!’ exclaims the bonder.
Stealthily the dead man creeps on, feeling at the beams as he comes. Then he stands in the hall, with
the firelight on him. A fearful sight; the tall figure distended with the corruption of the grave, the nose
fallen off, the wandering, vacant eyes, with the glaze of death on them, the sallow flesh patched with
green masses of decay, the wolf-grey hair and beard have grown in the tomb, and hang matted about the
shoulders and breast. The nails, too, they have grown. It is a sickening sight, a thing to shudder at, not to
see.
Motionless, with no nerve quivering now, Thorhall and Grettir held their breath.
Glámr’s lifeless glance strayed
round the chamber. It rested on
the shaggy bundle by the high seat.
Cautiously he stepped towards it.
Grettir felt him groping about
the lower lappet and pulling at
it. The cloak did not give way.
Another jerk; Grettir kept his
feet firmly pressed against the
posts, so that the rug was not
pulled off. The vampire seemed
puzzled, he plucked at the upper
flap and tugged. Grettir held to
the bench and bed-board, so that
he was not moved, but the cloak
was rent in twain, and the corpse
staggered back, holding half in its
hands, and gazing wonderingly at it. Before it had done examining the shred, Grettir started to his feet,
bowed his body, flung his arms about the carcass, and, driving his head into the chest, strove to bend it
backward and snap the spine. A vain attempt! The cold hands came down on Grettir’s arms with diabolical

force, riving30 them from their hold. Grettir clasped them about the body again; then the arms closed round
him, and began dragging him along. The brave man clung by his feet to benches and posts, but the strength
of the vampire was the greater. Posts gave way, benches were heaved from their places, and the wrestlers
at each moment neared the door. Sharply writhing loose, Grettir flung his hands round a roof-beam. He was
dragged from his feet. The numbing arms clenched him round the waist, and tore at him. Every tendon in
his breast was strained; the strain under his shoulders became excruciating, the muscles stood out in knots.
Still he held on. His fingers were bloodless. The pulses of his temples throbbed in jerks. The breath came
in a whistle through his rigid nostrils. All the while, too, the long nails of the dead man cut into his side,
and Grettir could feel them piercing like knives between his ribs. Then at once his hands gave way, and the
monster bore him reeling towards the porch, crashing over the broken fragments of the door. Hard as the
battle had gone with him indoors, Grettir knew that it would go worse outside, so he gathered up all his
remaining strength for one final desperate struggle.
The door had been shut with a swivel into a groove. This groove was in a stone, which formed the jamb
on one side, and there was a similar block on the other, into which the hinges had been driven. As the
wrestlers neared the opening, Grettir planted both his feet against the stone posts, holding Glámr by the
middle. He had the advantage now. The dead man writhed in his arms, drove his talons into Grettir’s back,
and tore up great ribbons of flesh, but the stone jambs held firm.
‘Now,’ thought Grettir, ‘I can break his back,’ and thrusting his head under the chin, so that the grizzly
beard covered his eyes, he forced the face from him, and the back was bent as a hazel-rod. ‘If I can but
hold on,’ thought Grettir, and he tried to shout for Thorhall, but his voice was muffled in the hair of the
corpse.
Crack! One or both of the door-posts gave way. Down crashed the gable trees, ripping beams and rafters
from their beds. Frozen clods of earth rattled from the roof and thumped into the snow, Glámr fell on
his back, and Grettir staggered down on top of him. The moon was at her full. Large white clouds chased
each other across the sky, and as they swept before her disk she looked through them like a pale saint
in tribulation with a brown halo round her. The snow-cap of Jörundarfell, however, glowed like a planet,
then the white mountain ridge was kindled, the light ran down the hillside, the bright disk stared out of
the veil and flashed at this moment full on the vampire’s face. Grettir’s strength was failing him, his hands
quivered in the snow, and he knew that he could not support himself from dropping flat on the dead man’s
face, eye to eye, lip to lip, nose to where the nose had been. The eyes of the corpse were fixed on him, lit
with the cold glare of the moon. His head swam as his heart sent a hot stream to his brain. Then a voice
from the grey lips said:
‘Thou hast acted madly in seeking to match thyself with me. Now learn that henceforth ill-luck shall
constantly attend thee; that thy strength shall never exceed what it now is, and that by night these eyes
of mine shall stare at thee through the darkness till thy dying day, so that for very horror thou shalt not
endure to be alone.’
Grettir at this moment noticed that his dirk had slipped from its sheath during the fall, and that it now
lay conveniently near his hand. The giddiness which had oppressed him passed away. He clutched at the
sword-haft, and with a blow severed the vampire’s throat. Then, kneeling on the breast, he hacked, till
the head came off.
Thorhall appeared now, his face blanched with terror, but when he saw how the fray had terminated he
assisted Grettir gleefully to roll the corpse on the top of a pile of faggots, which had been collected for
winter fuel. Fire was applied, and soon far down the valley the flames of the pyre startled people, and
made them wonder what new horror was being enacted in the upper portion of the Valley of Shadows.
Next day the charred bones were conveyed to a spot remote from the habitations of men, and were
there buried.
What Glámr had predicted came to pass. Never after did Grettir dare to be alone in the dark.
30 Rive (v. tr.): to split or tear apart violently (OED).

RIPPING YARNS
Reviews
The Complete Jack the Ripper
Donald Rumbelow
London: Virgin Books, 2013
www.eburypublishing.co.uk
ISBN:978-0-754150-9
Softcover, 350pp, illus, biblio, index
£9.99
On the front cover of this book is a quote from The Sunday Times: ‘The best yet written about the
murders and the suspects.’ I do not know to which edition of the book this applies. It could have been
as long ago as 1975 when the book was originally published by W H Allen, or as recently as 2004, by
which time it had passed to Penguin. This new edition is published by Virgin, an imprint of the Ebury
Press and part of the Random House Group. The irony is that through the vagaries of publishing sales
and takeovers, it was Virgin that many years ago bought W H Allen, so in a sense The Complete Jack the Ripper has
returned to its spiritual home.
This was the first Ripper book not to champion a suspect, something so rare back in 1975 that it almost immediately
made the book a bestseller and the book’s author the leading authority on Jack. Nothing has changed. The book is still
available on the bookshop shelves, it is still highly regarded, and rare are the TV documentaries that don’t feature
Donald Rumbelow.
The Complete… has been revised several times – in 1987, 1988 and 2004 - but they were always disappointing and
there was no reason to suppose that this new edition would be different. The good news is that it is different!
The bad news is that you may not recognise it. The Complete… has been around for almost forty years, and if you
have been around for forty years as well then it is probable that at first glance you won’t think that much has changed.
The title is the same, Virgin having resisted the temptation of adding anything like ‘Original’ or ‘Authentic’ or ‘And
Utter’. Even the chapters are the same in name and number. To find the changes you have to look beyond the surface.
There is nothing major that’s utterly new: Don includes the alleged photo of Abberline that appeared in Jack the
Ripper: Scotland Yard Investigates, which Rumbelow co–authored with Stewart Evens. Taken from a group shot, the man
in the photo certainly matches descriptions of Abberline, but whether it is the great man or not remains to be seen,
as Rumbelow himself notes in his shortest of short forewords. Rumbelow, who had previously and rather reluctantly
suggested Timothy Donovan as Jack the Ripper, has changed his mind, also admitted in the foreword, and some two
pages previously devoted to Donovan have been removed with all the skill of the KGB removing all references to a
defector. Finally, Don argues that Elizabeth Stride was not a Ripper victim, a view I am inclined to share.
Otherwise the changes to the book simply bring it up to date. You are clearly reading a modern book about the Ripper
murders, and as such you are reading a comprehensive history that is probably the best written about the murders and
suspects. Better that Sugden? Better than (with all modesty) Begg? Well, neither deal with the suspects. Therefore
neither is as comprehensive, neither can claim to be ‘the best yet written about the murders and the suspects’. That
can only be said about The Complete Jack the Ripper.

Abberline: The Man Who Hunted Jack the Ripper
Peter Thurgood
Stroud, Gloucestershire, The History Press, 2013
www.thehistorypress.co.uk
ISBN: 978-0-7524-830—3
Illus, index
Previously published privately as Inspector Frederick George Abberline and Jack the Ripper:
The Reality Behind the Myth
£16.99 hardcover
£10.19 Kindle ebook
Abberline was originally published as an ebook (see review in Rip 125, April 2013) and it would seem
that somebody at The History Press thought it merited traditional publication.
I can’t imagine why.
This isn’t a biography of Abberline - we know too little about Abberline for anyone to write a biography - so it is
inevitable that any attempt will quickly become little more than a recitation of the investigations he was involved with.
In Abberline’s case that’s Jack the Ripper and the Cleveland Street affair, the former unsurprisingly dominating the book.
Cleveland Street receives a fairly detailed re-telling, but Abberline’s early life and career are dealt with quickly and his
life after leaving the Metropolitan Police receives little more than a nod. All of this is coloured by Thurgood’s imaginative
suppositions about what Abberline thought and said makes the book reads like a novel. Altogether not a good thing.
Overall, this isn’t worth the money and isn’t recommended.
Wellcome to Hell - Was Sir Henry Wellcome Jack the Ripper?

Joseph Busa
2013
Kindle, 174pp (628KB), biblio
£1.99
Okay, if this book is a hoax then I am the gullible sap who got taken in by it. Joke over. Ha, ha, as
someone once wrote.
What I have been taken in by is the author’s claim to have visited in April 2012 an exhibition called
Brain. The Mind as Matter (such an exhibition was indeed held between 29 March and 17 June 2012)
and also visited the semi-permanent free exhibition called Medicine Man containing a ‘disturbing’
collection of items collected over the years by Sir Henry Wellcome, co-founder of Burroughs Wellcome
and Co. Among the exhibits, many of which were of personal interest to Wellcome, were several which caused the
author to pause and reflect on the character of the serial killer. And the more the author paused and reflected, the more
he began to wonder whether Sir Henry Wellcome and Jack the Ripper might be one and the same.
That’s a fair enough question, fairly asked, and at £1.99 the question comes at a fair price.
The answer is up to you.
What Mrs Fiddymont Say?s

sal m laib
Gentlemans Press, 2013
ISBN: 97811489505279
Paperback, 202 pages
This is yet another reprint of the inquest testimony freely available elsewhere, such as Casebook,
by someone trying to make a fast buck from doing nearly nothing. But when an author can’t even be
bothered to make sure the title of his book is properly punctuated, it comes as no surprise to find
that the back cover blurb contains such translation messes as ‘...with a view to or slums of a self-
improvement;’ ...or ‘people is are well worth the attention or who interest themselves.’
Sans punctuation error, the title is a great one, guaranteed to grab the attention of anyone, but
unfortunately the book tells us nothing at all about Mrs Fiddymont. The book is a bummer. Don’t bother.

The New Suspect: Indian Harry and the Jack the Ripper Case
Robert Harris
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (2013)
ISBN: 9781484919712
ISBN-13: 978-1484919712
Paperback: 294 pages
This book begins with a poor retelling of the Jack the Ripper story, beginning with an account of how
the population of Britain’s cities swelled first with Irish immigrants and afterwards with Jews fleeing the
pogroms in Eastern Europe (the Industrial Revolution need not have happened). As a consequence, Mr
Harris tells us the East End ‘became more and more overful’ (English isn’t Mr Harris’s native language).
The book goes on to discuss the suspects, and it is a bit of an odd choice: Prince Albert Victor,
Joseph Barnett, Lewis Carroll, William Henry Bury, David Cohen/Kosminski, Frederick Deeming, Francis
Tumblety, Neil Cream, Walter Sickert, George Hutchinson, and... one feels there should be a fanfare and fireworks or
at least a - ta da! – Thomas Bowyer. However, the book only has five pages left, so one knows that the author is not now
about to give an expansive argument in favour of his candidate. Needless to say the author doesn’t give one. In fact, it
seems as if the author, seeing the completion of his task on the horizon, is more than satisfied to surrender his argument
to the lords of brevity rather than the ladies of length and detail, and in a few words he gives us his case: ‘He knows
surly [sic] call victims he lived in the rear, he works in the McCarthy shop where all victims from time to time buying, an
ex soldier trained to kill with the bayonet he knows to open the door of Kelly’s room without the key.’
Rushed and patently not offered seriously, the idea that Bowyer was the Ripper has been seriously neglected. As it is,
the theory offered here isn’t really at all bad.
The Newspaper Hunt of Jack the Ripper

C. Neil
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (2013)
Paperback, 362 pages
ISBN-10: 148490284X
ISBN-13: 978-1484902844
Unless you have been bitten by the collecting bug and simply have to get everything published about
Jack the Ripper, I can think of no reason why you should buy this book. English is not the author’s
native language, so we get a few peculiar sentence constructions.
This is another effort by some chap who thinks he’ll make a bob or two – in fact very nearly £10 a
pop or two – by reprinting the inquest testimony.
Broadmoor Revealed: Victorian Crime and the Lunatic Asylum

Mark Stevens
Barnsley, S Yorkshire, 2001
Pen and Sword (2013)
Format: Kindle Edition
File Size: 1925 KB
Print Length: 192 pages
This is another book culled from the self-published lists, but unlike some we have reviewed here
and in previous issues of Rip, this one is actually worth having!
There is something about Broadmoor which exerts a compelling fascination. I think it is probably
it’s secretiveness; once someone enters its portals and the doors swing shut, that’s it – silence. That’s
why the words ‘committed to Broadmoor’ or something similar are greeted with a sinking heart by
genealogists and historians.
Broadmoor was opened in 1863 and was the first asylum opened in England and Wales for the criminally insane. And
it is the word ‘criminally’ which set the patients there apart from the patients in other asylums - they had committed,
or were alleged to have committed, a crime - ‘alleged’ because some of the inmates had not been convicted of any
crime. One of particular interest to Ripperologists was Thomas Hayne Cutbush, who was never convicted of any crime.

The author, Mark Stevens, is a professional archivist at the Berkshire Record Office who in 2004 was given responsibility
for the Broadmoor archives, transferred there from the hospital itself, and many of them in very poor condition. In 2008
the archives were opened to the public and Stevens was responsible for promoting the use of the archive. One of the
ways he did so was to produce a book of carefully chosen stories which, he thought, represented Broadmoor’s history
from the mid- to the late-Victorian period. Broadly speaking this included the expected few: Edward Oxford, Richard
Dadd William Minor, Christiana Edmunds and so on. This book was offered free as a Kindle edition and word must have
got around because it was downloaded by in excess of quarter of a million people.
Despite this tremendous take-up, Pen and Sword have seen a potential for a trade edition of the book which differs,
as far as a very quick perusal of the two editions shows, only with the addition of an extra chapter, Broadmoor’s
International Brigade.
The Forensic Historian: Using Science to Reexamine the Past

Robert C Williams
Armonk, New York, M E Sharpe, 2013
www.mesharpe.com
illus, references, glossary, biblio, index
£44.50 hardcover, £17.95 softcover,
£8.87 Kindle
I was excited when I saw this title listed for publication, but the excitement did not last long. The
title is misleading and the subtitle even more so. As the author acknowledges in his introduction:
“There is, as yet, no real field of forensic history.” And something has to be accepted as genuine
before it can be said to be a genuine artefact of the past that can be subjected to examination or
re-examination. Very little of the stuff examined here has been accepted as history. Nobody has ever
accepted the Vinland map as genuine and interpreted history based on it. Millions of people believe the Turin shroud was
the shroud used to wrap the body of Christ, but its authenticity has always been questioned.
This said, the book is a series of brief essays about the use of forensic techniques, usually to authenticate a document
of artefact. Among the items examined are the aforesaid Vinland map and Turin shroud, the Hitler diaries, Napoleon’s
hair, and so on.
Patricia Cornwell’s efforts to authenticate the Maybrick diary isn’t mentioned. It should have been. It was a brave
and innovative experiment.
Overall, this is the pop history/science which one doesn’t expect to see marketed as proper science with an
appropriate price tag of nearly fifty quid for the hardback and twenty for the slender paperback. This said, if it comes
your way you’ll find it provides several hours of entertaining and informative reading.
Reviews by Paul Begg
OVER 200 JACK THE RIPPER AND ASSOCIATED TITLES ON LAYBOOKS.COM, INCLUDING:
Anderson KCB (Sir Robert) THE LIGHTER SIDE OF MY OFFICIAL Levy (J H) Ed. by: THE NECESSITY OF CRIMINAL APPEAL AS
LIFE. h/b £250 ILLUSTRATED BY THE MAYBRICK CASE h/b signed £500
Begg/Fido/Skinner THE JACK THE RIPPER A TO Z scarce 1st Middleton (James) JACK, O ESTRIPADOR; GRANDE ROMANCE
Edn. hb/dw signed labels Begg/Skinner/Rumbelow £60 DE ACTUALIDADE, ILLUSTRADO COM GRAVUR 5 vol set in
slipcase £675
Brooke (Hugh) MAN MADE ANGRY hb/dw £125
Sims (George R) THE MYSTERIES OF MODERN LONDON h/b £140
Cory (Patricia) AN EYE TO THE FUTURE s/c £150
Stewart (William) JACK THE RIPPER A New theory h/b £700
Dew (Walter) I CAUGHT CRIPPEN h/b £400
Farson (Daniel) JACK THE RIPPER hb/dw Inscribed and signed
by author £60 Ripperologist 132 June 2013 122
The Morning Post, 20 September 1888

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No.

132 June 2013

SIMON WOOD on One Lone Maniac Too Many

NINA AND HOWARD BROWN

Michael Higgins, National Post, Canada, 13 May 2013

CHARLES ALBERT CADOSCH AND HIS FAMILY EDITORS

I BEG TO REPORT: NEWS ROUNDUP

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 1

In the course of her militant activities, which were often unauthorised by

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 2

The last Chapters of the Book of Judges tell us how some

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 3

At some point in the two year period

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 4

In the 1871 census, when the family is recorded as living at 66 Brushfield

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 5

At the time of the Chapman murder Albert Cadosch was a married

Following the move to Essex Alice

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 6

Alice lived out her days in the Colchester area. In the

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 7

The youngest Cadosch child, Nellie Eliza, lived at home until,

Nellie’s older sister, Hannah joined her in Canada in 1921. At

So far as I am aware, none of Albert Cadosch’s living descendants

‘O, hark! what mean those yells and cries?

Star, 31 August 1888:

Both Star reports contained blatant lies.

1 The Times, 9 April 1888

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 10

On 1 September 1888, the Evening News reported that the lone

The more probable theory is that the murder has been

There again was the blatant lie.

New York Times, 1 September 1888:

London, Aug. 31.

2 Echo, 10 August 1888

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 11

Who could this mysterious murderer have been?

Also on the same day, the Echo elaborated:

Two days later, on 3 September, the Echo announced:

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 12

The Times continued:

The remarkably well-informed Star continued:

As the Star would later report:

The cry was loud and clear:

5 Daily News, 10 September 1888.

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 13

The Times, 6 August 1888:

‘The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde’.

Daily Chronicle: ‘The apish, sneering, malignant and crouching Hyde...’

He now also had a name.

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 14

Evening News, 8 September 1888:

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 16

Church Street, Spitalfields, disappeared in 1879, subsumed as the eastern section of

On 10 September the Echo published a Press Association interview with Pizer’s

16 London Gazette, 12 September 1871

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 17

Regarding Leather Apron, he wrote:

Somebody was not telling the truth.

17 Chief Inspector Donald S Swanson, summary report, 19 October 1888

Ripperologist 132 June 2013 18

Pizer told the Press Association:

T P O’Connor had a different recollection of the incident:

The Birmingham Daily Post continued: