Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Ripperologist 106
Ripperologist 106
"The Giants create drama with every at-bat. It's a wild-swinging group whose approach to hitting sometimes
seems to be the same as Jack the Ripper's approach to dating."
Ripping Yarns
In our new look ‘Ripping Yarns’ we review The Man Who Hunted Jack the Ripper:
Edmund Reid — Victorian Detective, Nicholas Connell and Stewart P. Evans; Murder
Most Foul: The Road Hill House Mystery of 1860, Paul Chambers; Death Ride From
Fenchurch Street and other Victorian Railway Murders, Arthur and Mary Sellwood;
Jonathan Wild: Conman and Cutpurse, John Van Der Kiste; Dillinger’s Wild Ride: The
Year That Made America’s Public Enemy Number one, Elliot J. Gorn.
We also take a look at Don Souden’s bookshelf, and appraise a Ripperology classic The
Lodger by Stewart P Evans and Paul Gainey.
RIPPEROLOGIST MAGAZINE
PO Box 735, Maidstone, Kent, UK ME17 1JF. contact@ripperologist.biz
By Christopher T. George
In 1897, nine years after the Whitechapel murders, Britain celebrated Queen Victoria’s
Diamond Jubilee. The British Empire had survived the scourge of the East End murderer, even
if the killer left some five ‘unfortunates’ slain and mutilated in his wake. The Daily Mail, a
newspaper characterised by Jeroen Deploige and Gita Deneckereas in their book, Mystifying the
Monarch (Amsterdam University Press, 2006), as a ‘blend of human interest stories and jingo-
ism’, launched a campaign to make certain the Royal anniversarial landmark would not go
uncelebrated. ‘To be sure,’ the authors pointed out, ‘such newspaper-meddling was no longer
new in the 1890s.’ [Emphasis added.]
In his recent book, Jack the Ripper, author Andrew Cook claimed that during the Autumn of Terror of 1888 the
new London evening newspaper The Star exaggerated the story of ‘Leather Apron’ to boost its readership, and that
likewise the the newspaper sent the ‘Dear Boss’ letter and ‘Saucy Jack’ postcard to the Central News Agency to fur-
ther whip up public interest in the murders. Cook’s suspect for doing those things was reporter Frederick Best, who
Cook claims worked for The Star at the time of the crimes.
However, another possibility with arguably better credentials Queen Victoria on her Diamond Jubilee in 1897
The power of the media. Left, jingoistic imagery in the Daily Mail at
the time of the Boer War, 1900. Right, a more jaded view of imperial-
ism from the socialist journal Justice in 1907.
The name of American journalist and writer Harry Dam has to date received only passing
mention in the literature on the Whitechapel murders. Dam’s career as a journalist with the
London evening newspaper, The Star, is discussed in a now obscure book called Some Piquant
People by a one-time celebrated but now largely forgotten London journalist named Lincoln
Springfield. In the course of a brief account of the coverage of the Jack the Ripper murders by
The Star, a newspaper for which both he and Dam worked, Springfield alleged that Dam, who
had newly arrived in London, had ‘worked up’ the story of Leather Apron. It was and is unclear
whether he meant that Dam invented the story of Leather Apron or whether he based it on
some information Dam picked up on the streets of Whitechapel, but either way, to date, the
allegation has been given very little attention
Harry Dam (1856–1906): journalist, dramatist, and inventor of both
by students of the Ripper crimes. ‘Leather Apron’ and ‘Dear Boss’?
In his 2009 book, Jack the Ripper, Andrew Cook claimed
that T P O’Connor, the editor of The Star, which began
publishing in January 1888, had invented the idea of a
lone killer as early as the murder of Mary Ann Nichols on
31 August 1888, and certainly no later than the murder
of Annie Chapman just over a week later, recognising
that this could be turned into a circulation booster for his
newspaper. Cook alleged that The Star wildly exaggerated
the story of Leather Apron and in due course the newspa-
per sent the ‘Dear Boss’ letter and ‘Saucy Jack’ postcard
to the Central News Agency to further boost the story.
Cook’s book attributed most of this campaign to a penny-
a-line journalist named Frederick Best, who Cook main-
tains worked for The Star at the time of the crimes.
Nowhere in Cook’s book is Harry Dam mentioned and
insofar as one can tell from Cook’s responses in a podcast
interview with Jonathan Menges, it would appear that he
knew nothing about Harry Dam.
Dam, it seems, is all but completely forgotten, a name
mentioned in passing by the almost equally obscure jour-
Family Background
Henry Jackson Wells Dam was born on 27 April 1856 in San Francisco, California, one of five children born to
Alphonso Dam (1826–1902) and Lucy Ellen Dam (nee Beck) (1827–1907). He had three brothers and a sister, although,
consistent with the high infant mortality of the day, three siblings died within a year of being born: Adelia Florence
Dam (1853–1854), George Elwin Dam (1855–1855) and Phillip S Dam (1859–1860). His younger brother, Cleveland
Lincoln Dam (26 October 1864 – 6 November 1916), survived to enjoy an eminent career of his own, becoming a
lawyer and civic figure in Oakland, California, being Secretary to the Board of Public Works. He also merited an entry
in a local history of the day, The Bay of San Francisco1.
Harry’s father, Alphonso Dam, was born in Enfield, Maine, on 27 July 1826. He arrived in San Francisco in 1849
and became involved in mining, which he pursued for about twelve years in California and Nevada, and in which he
retained an interest until his death. He also appears to have had interests in real estate, some newspapers record-
ing the sale of lots of land by Alphonso and
his wife2.
In the entry for his brother Cleveland
Lincoln Dam in The Bay of San Francisco,
mention is made of Henry J W Dam:
Section from The Bay of San Francisco (1892) on Harry's brother, Cleveland Lincoln Dam.
with some others of the San Francisco
papers. In 1883 he was appointed Executive
Secretary of Governor Stoneman, and at the close of his administration, in January, 1887, he went to New York city,
where he worked one season as a writer for the Times of that city, making a specialty of descriptions of Eastern
watering places and summer resorts, his work in that line attracting considerable attention and favorable notice.
In the fall of 1887, he went to London as correspondent of the same paper; and in 1890 was Paris correspondent of
the New York Herald. In 1891 he is again in London, where a play written by him and produced at the Vaudeville
theater, has added to his fame as a versatile and capable writer.
1 The Bay of San Francisco: The Metropolis of the Pacific Coast and its suburban cities: A History. 2 vols. Chicago: Lewis Publishing
Company, 1892.
[Dam] made a sudden dash for Grant as soon as he got aboard the Tokio, but the general parried all attempts
to obtain a political interview. He was quite willing to talk about the deficiency of good cigars in Europe, and to
impart the news that Mrs Grant had limited him to three cigars a day, but he would not speak of a third term. The
dashing newspaperman then sought Mrs Grant, saying that there were thousands of men and women in the United
States who would be delighted if the general should be the next President. Mrs Grant was fully equal to the occa-
sion. In the most cordial manner she replied: “I think in Switzerland we saw the finest scenery3.”
8 See Ben Fuller Fordney, George Stoneman: A Biography of the Union General. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland and Co., 2007.
[Dam] undoubtedly deserves all the denunciation heaped upon his devoted head. A man who would make cash
the price of a man’s freedom, who had fallen so low that he had become the most degraded of professional black-
mailers, certainly deserves no consideration at the hands of any honest man. The crime with which Dam is charged,
and of which he is probably guilty, is a most despicable one. . . . It is stated and substantiated that the Governor
once absolutely refused to issue a pardon to a certain criminal, and that Harry Dam subsequently issued it, being
paid $250. . . .
The newspaper went on to suggest that Governor Stoneman was involved, at least insofar as he must have known
what Dam was doing and not taken action against him, or, if not involved, that he was incompetent11.
This appears to have been the case of Henry Bolte whose solicitors, Siebe Brothers and Plageman, had sought a
pardon from Governor Stoneman and been ‘peremptorily refused’, Stoneman having ‘refused to sign the pardon
under any circumstances’. According to later claims by James R Rogers, who for eighteen years had some connec-
tion with the San Francisco detective department and was now working for Siebe Brothers and Plagemen, he was
contacted by Dam on the evening of the day Stoneman had refused the pardon, who said that Bolte would be
released from Folsom Prison the day after, 31 December 1886, and asking for $250. Both Rogers and Plageman
refused to pay the money. Rogers claimed that he had documents which proved his claims12.
In August 1888, an ex-convict writing about the pardon brokering scandal wrote that it was ‘a fact that the sale
of pardons was negotiated by the dozen’ and that an investigation ‘would have unearthed a mass of corruption suf-
ficient to contaminate the vilest slums on earth.’ He claimed that J D Silvarra, who brutally murdered his wife and
whose death sentence was commuted to life, purchased a pardon for $1,000; that John S Gray paid $1,500; that
11 Quoted by the Daily Republican, 29 November 1887. Also Los Angeles Times, 29 November 1887.
October 1886 letter from Harry Dam published in a large sums of money in an illegal manner, he would not have
newspaper about a pardon from the governor.
relieved himself from some of these annoyances at least15.
Tobin pointed out that Dam had no appreciation of the value of money and that his salary of $200 per month was
insufficient to satisfy his love for wine, women and song.
Dam issued another unequivocal denial, saying
Governor Stoneman’s plan with reference to pardons was simply this: he turned the entire business over to the
State Prison Directors. Every man recommended by them was pardoned, without exception, unless there was a
protest. The result was that a recommendation was equivalent to a pardon. All that I had to do was, at the Governor’s
direction, to send the papers back and forth, and make out a pardon when ordered. The facts were universally known
that a recommendation meant a pardon unless there was a protest. Governor Stoneman stated this again and again.
Dam denied that he had ever accepted money for a pardon and in fact claimed that he had turned money down,
claiming that when he left the job he did so ‘three degrees poorer than a church mouse16.’
But the allegations refused to go away, new California Governor Robert Waterman (1826–1891) being reported as
saying that ‘he considered the evidence of pardon-selling very strong against Harry Dam and intimated that if a com-
plaint were made by someone, he would issue a requisition to New York and have Dam brought home to answer the
charges against him17.’
It is perhaps ironic that in 1887 Dam published an article called ‘Practical Penology’.
15 Reported in the San Francisco Examiner and quoted in the Sacramento Daily Record-Union, 20 November 1887.
Dam had been collaborating with a compositor on the Herald named Frederick J Eustis (1851–1912) on what was
described as a ‘Turkish-American satirical comic opera’ called Mizpah which was given a single run-through matinee
performance at the Chestnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia. The tickets sold extraordinarily well, and it was antic-
ipated that the play would ‘prove the greatest success seen in Philadelphia for many a day18’, and, indeed, ‘prob-
ably the largest and most brilliant audience ever present at a matinee performance’ was present to see it—the show
being ‘received in an enthusiastic manner by what might be termed a critical audience19.’
Staged by Frank A Burr, a Philadelphia journalist who had set up a comic opera company called the Mizpah Opera
Company, the show transferred straight to the famous Hooley’s Theatre in Chicago, but here it nosedived. It had
promise, said the New York Times and ‘in better hands it might easily be shaped into something of value and given
a successful career’, but as it was it had ‘an idea of merit bunglingly worked out’ and was ‘pretty close to a flat fail-
ure at Hooley’s—a theatre where flat failures are seldom found20.’ Pretty soon the ‘flat failure’ turned into a night-
mare as the seats remained unsold. By early January the veteran theatre manager Richard M Hooley (1822–1893) was
suing Burr and his backer, a Connecticut capitalist named John B Wallace, for $2,000. Apparently Burr and Wallace
had guaranteed that the takings would exceed $2,100 a week, which they had failed to do. To add to the problems,
leading cast members refused to perform when their salaries weren’t paid and members of the chorus were pressed
into service as principals21. Poor Fred Eustis, who
Old Chestnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, where
Mizpah enjoyed a good reception at a matinee as composer of the opera and leader of the
orchestra, must have been feeling the failure
more keenly than most, ‘faced the frigid few in
the audience. . . picked up the baton and brave-
ly began the overture22. Burr blamed his backer
and denied that there had been a cast rebellion,
claiming that the star had been taken seriously
ill. However, if that was the case then the illness
was rife among the principals but left the chorus
untouched. In any case the rebellion was short
lived and the cast resumed their roles.
Attendances did not improve and it was reported
that hardly fifty people turned up to see the
show. Within days it was announced that the
intended move to Cleveland had been abandoned
and that the company had disbanded, most of
23 New York Times, 8 January 1887; Daily Inter-Ocean (Chicago), 8 January, 11 January 1887; Philadelphia Inquirer, 23 April 1887.
25 New York Times, Boston Daily Advertiser, 13 January 1887; Macon Telegraph, 16 January 1887.
27 Quoted in The Daily Picayune, 18 January 1887; Philadelphia Inquirer, 14 January 1887.
If things were not looking too good for H J W Dam at the beginning of 1887, his first professional theatrical offer-
ing being a disaster and the arrest of his writing partner for attempting to shoot his wife being reported in papers
across the country, they were beginning to look decidedly worse by December when Governor Waterman began drop-
ping hints that Dam might be forcibly taken back to California to answer questions. All things considered, Dam may
have thought it a wise career move to follow other American writers and head for London. His departure, however,
seems to have been a hasty one and it would seem that office gossip at the Star had no doubt that Dam was fleeing
the breaking scandal in California. Writing nearly thirty years later, in 1924, the distinguished British journalist
Lincoln Springfield (c.1866-1850) recalled in his autobiography that Dam’s departure had been a hasty one:
The office legend about Dam was that he had hitherto been private secretary to the Governor of California, and
had amassed thousands of dollars by the illicit sale of pardons to murderers, felons, and other unfortunates whose
lives or freedom were in the keeping of the Governor as the controller of the States prisons. At all events, Dam had
arrived hastily and quietly from the States, had joined us on The Star. . . 30.
Dam, it seems, was also the London representative of other newspapers, including the New York Times, for which
he was paid £4 a week, and afterwards for the London edition of the New York Herald31.
The new London evening newspaper, The Star, was founded by T P O'Connor (1848–1929) and launched on 17
January 1888. It was distinguished by its radicalism and as inaugurating what would be called the ‘new’ journalism.
O’Connor was born in Ireland and had been a journalist there. He had come
T P O’Connor, MP, in 1909. In 1887, he founded the to London in 1867 and worked for the Daily Telegraph. He afterwards became
London evening newspaper, The Star, and the inau-
gural issue appeared on 17 January 1888. London correspondent for the New York Herald (as would Harry Dam). He had
family ties with the United States, having married Elizabeth Paschal, the
daughter of George Washington Paschal, a judge of the Supreme Court of Texas.
An Irish Nationalist, he was elected a Member of Parliament in 1880 for
Liverpool Scotland district and remained one until his death. The Star was the
first of several newspapers he founded, the others were the Weekly Sun (1891),
the Sun (1893), and M.A.P. (Mainly About People), P.T.O. (Please Turn Over) and
the extremely popular T.P.’s Weekly (1902). O’Connor wrote about his experi-
ences with The Star in his autobiography, Memoirs of an Old Parliamentarian,
published in 1929, the year of this death. According to the Dictionary of National
Biography, differences arose between him and the proprietor, and O’Connor was
bought out reportedly for £15,000, subject to the condition that ‘he should not
start another London newspaper for three years.’
For a while there was an unfortunate Pole, who, for some reason or
other, was known among his associates as “Leather Apron” and who for
days figured at the top of the interesting personalities of the period.
Until in the end there seemed to be an accumulation of evidence that in
him the assassin was at last to be found.
My paper was one of the many which had printed all the evidence that
seemed to point to “Leather Apron” as the murderer, but soon afterwards
the poor devil was able to prove incontestably his innocence. A dexterous
expedient adopted by my then chief sub-editor (still a distinguished figure in
newspaper life) saved us from what might have been a ruinous action for Ernest Parke, editor of The Star in 1888.
(Courtesy of Simon Wood.)
libel. We got off, I remember, with fifty pounds—it might have cost us five
hundred or five thousand!
Writing in 1924, journalist Lincoln Springfield also referred to the libel action brought against The Star by John
Pizer and claimed that the Leather Apron story was the creation of Harry Dam. The accusation was levelled at Dam
by others and prima facie it seems unquestionably the case that it was widely believed. What is uncertain is whether
he invented it from whole cloth or not: was there really a man nicknamed Leather Apron who terrorised the
Whitechapel prostitutes, or, as one newspaper suggested, was Leather Apron a largely fictional character, wildly
exaggerated with dramatic flair and based on no more than a ‘wild looking’ man wearing a leather apron who had
recently turned up in Whitechapel and was thought to be an escaped lunatic, or did Leather Apron, the terror of
Whitechapel prostitutes, exist entirely in Harry Dam’s mind?
The story of Leather Apron is rather complex, relying in the main on press reports after the name had appeared
in the newspapers, so we can’t be certain that the name had a currency on the streets prior to its first appearance
in print. The name Leather Apron was first mentioned in passing in The Star on 4 September 1888 but scattered ref-
erences in various newspapers suggest that the name may have had a currency on the streets prior to 4 September,
suggesting that Dam may not have invented it.
Briefly, the story is that on Sunday, 2 September 1888, a man was accosted by one or more women in the street.
32 T P O’Connor, The Memoirs of an Old Parliamentarian, vol II. London: Ernest Benn, 1929, p. 256-7.
With regard to the man who goes by the sobriquet 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 Whitechapel33.
This scant mention in The Star on 4 September conforms pretty much with what appears in the official reports.
In a weekly report to Scotland Yard dated 7 September 1888, W Davis, the Acting Superintendent of H Division,
reported that ‘A man named “Pizer” alias “Leather Apron” has been in the habit of ill-using prostitutes in various
parts of the Metropolis for some time past, and careful inquiries have been made to trace him, but without success.
There is no evidence against him at present34.’ Later newspaper reports state that before Sgt Thicke arrested Pizer
he had for some days been looking for him but that the suspect had not been in any of his usual haunts.
However, the New York Times on 4 September carried a very lurid article which was dated the day previously (3
September) bylined from their own correspondent, who as far as we know was at that time none other than Harry Dam:
Whitechapel has a murder mystery which transcends anything known in the annals of the horrible. It is Poe’s
“Murders in 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 it leaves no
trace whatever of his work and o 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.
When the murder of Mary Ann Nichols, who was cut into ribbons last Friday night, was investigated it became
evident that the murder was the work of the same hand that committed the two preceding ones. All three were
A very funny incident occurred in connection with the latest Whitechapel murder yesterday. An American jour-
nalist, 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
If this account is true then the whole story about Leather Apron is based on a ‘wild looking man’, possibly insane,
maybe an escaped lunatic, who wore a leather apron and had been seen wandering the streets. He wasn’t called
Leather Apron, he didn’t threaten anyone with a knife, and he wasn’t the terror of the local prostitutes.
On 12 September, it was reported that Pizer had told a representative of the Press Association that he intended
to bring a legal action:
I shall see if I cannot legally proceed against those who have made statements about me. The charges made
against me have quite broken my spirits, and I am afraid I shall have to place myself under medical treatment for
some time37.
Sgt Thicke had been making inquiries for John Pizer without success, but eventually he received a tip off that
Pizer was in hiding in his home at 22 Mulberry Street. At 9.00am on 10 September 1888 Thicke and another police-
man went to the house and arrested Pizer without any difficulty whatsoever. Pizer asked what he was wanted for
and in an interview given after his release he said:
The sergeant said to me, ‘You are the man whom the women call “Leather Apron.”‘ This, however, I denied. I
do not acknowledge (said Piser to the reporter) that name at all, and I have not recently worn a leather apron.”
Were you not surprised (the reporter at once asked) when he said you were known as ‘Leather Apron’?”
“Yes. I was not aware that I was known by that name. None of my neighbours have ever called me by it38.”
Pizer further asserted, “I am” (proceeded Piser with considerable fervour) “quite innocent of the charge that
has been brought against me in connection with the murder in Hanbury-street. My character will bear the strictest
investigation. I can get references both from men of my own religion and from ‘Gentiles,’ for whom I have
worked39.”
By 26 September, American newspapers were reporting that John Pizer, who they mistakenly called ‘Isaac Piser’, had
commenced lawsuits against the Daily Telegraph and Mr. T.P. O’Connor of the Evening Star, claiming heavy dam-
ages from them for having publicly accused him of those murders at a time when he was confined to his house by
illness. It is stated that he has likewise commences proceedings against a New York newspaper on the same
grounds40.
40 Galveston Daily News, 26 September 1888; Daily Evening Bulletin (San Francisco), 1 October 1888; Daily Inter-Ocean (Chicago), 14
October 1888.
42 No mention of a leather-aproned Jew of this description has so far been found in Thomas De Quincey’s writings. Dr Julian North of
the University of Leicester, an authority on the works of De Quincey, indicated to Christopher T George in an email that she was unable to
pinpoint in the writer’s works the reference to ‘Leathern-Apron’ as described by Vance Thompson; email from Dr Julian North to Christopher
T George, 6 September 2008. On the other hand, the reference may be to De Quincey’s short story ‘The Avenger’ (curiously enough, also
the name given by Marie Belloc Lowndes to her murderer in The Lodger). In De Quincey’s ‘The Avenger’, a series of motiveless murders take
place in a German city. The murderer, who lives in the panic-stricken community, is eventually revealed by accident and proves to be a Jew
who had committed the crimes in revenge for ill-treatment in former years at the hands of the inhabitants of the place.
. . .Dam 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.
Here was a pretty kettle of fish! Whatever was this colossal blunder going to cost The Star in damages for libel?
Ernest Parke was in charge of the paper, and, if there be to-day a tinge of grey about his auburn locks —what the
comedians call a little icing on the top—we must attribute the beginning of that discoloration to the dismay occa-
sioned by this awful situation. He was, however, a man of action. Minions were hurried down to Whitechapel,
“Leather Apron” was secured, be was brought to Stonecutter Street, and he was reasoned with sweetly, before he
could get the opportunity of consulting a lawyer, or, shall I say? before a lawyer could get the chance of indicating
to him what wealth beyond the dreams of avarice might be his by the simple process of issuing a writ for libel. And
43 Vance Thompson, ‘The Police Reporter,’ Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine, Vol LXII, July-Dec 1898, p. 283-8.
45 H A Monroe, ‘A Pastor’s Summer Abroad: Dr Monroe Goes Slumming in the Modern Babylon’, New York Age, 8 November 1890. This is
an interesting article in its own right as its author appears to be Rev Henry Monroe, DD, the black pastor of St Mark’s Methodist Episcopal
Church in New York City (an established church serving the African-American community, which by 1889 was located on Fifty-third Street).
The circumstances of Harry Dam’s departure from San Francisco in the dawn of 1887 are familiar to his friends,
and also to those who did not hold him in esteem. His sojourn in New York and his success on the Times as a writer
of watering-place gossip have lured a number of brilliant journalists to Calypso’s shores.
In London he became correspondent of the New York Times at a stipend of £4 a week. He did his work well, but
he was hungry. One cannot drink the newest champagne in London on that, and it cost more to hang on the out-
skirts of Pimlico than the money will cover.
HE BUYS AN ORCHID
One day he accompanied two of his new found friends to Warren & Cralke’s, in Jermyn Street.
The two friends selected a rare orchid as a boutonniere.
Harry Dam followed suit, but selected one that was a little rarer.
“A guinea, please, sir.”
And Mr Dam realised that all flowers are not “born in the spring, tra la,” and that life is frequently real and earnest.
Then he hired himself to The Star, a newspaper edited by T.P. O’Connor, an old New York Herald Irishman, an
afterward a Member of Parliament. The Star had been successful up to a certain point, but it was scarcely a year
old; there was a prejudice against it because it was Irish, and because it followed the American fashion of endeav-
oring to give its readers the news.
Mr Dam’s affair with The Star has been hinted at occasionally, but is now made known through a letter just
received in this [?] from a writer in London.
Dam possessed the American reporter’s instinct for news, and he witnessed with disgust the feeble efforts of
the London brethren. Here was a subject which would make the fortune of a New York World or Herald. He brood-
ed over it and haunted Scotland Yard. There he found the police too much occupied with the movements of “sus-
pects” and dynamiters to think of Whitechapel more than a week46.
Presently there came a fourth assassination-September 8, 1888, and this was more than the American reporter’s
nature could stand.
On the 25th September, 1888, the police authorities were thrown into a fearful flurry by the receipt of a let-
ter signed “Jack the Ripper”. The letter is herewith given.
The London police kept the letter dark, because they were in the dark: at least they managed to keep the let-
ter dark for two hours.
46 The charge that the police were overly concerned with dynamite plots had been made at the time of the crimes by the Pall Mall
Gazette, 8 September 1888, which stated: ‘The Criminal Investigation Department under Mr Monro was so pre-occupied in tracking out the
men suspected of mediating political crimes that the ordinary vulgar assassin has a free field in which to indulge his propensities.’
Then an extra Star was shouted from Queen Victoria Street to Holland House. A facsimile of the letter signed
“Jack the Ripper” appeared on its front page, and edition after edition went flying across London bridge to
Southwark, and through the Borough, and down the Old Kent Road to Greenwich. From the Strand it flew through
Bloomsbury and past the Euston Road, and out to Hampstead and away to the other end of nowhere.
Suddenly from a circulation of 30,000 copies the Star went to ten times that or more. The other London papers
shuddered and went solemnly in a deputation to Scotland Yard. Sir Charles Warren protested as solemnly that he
had concealed the letter in his thickest safe, but admitted that there must be a leak in the Police Department which
he couldn’t account for. The deputation went back to its luxurious editorial palaces, and that night Cunningham
Graham arose in the House and hinted that Sir Charles Warren was a careless person.
Next day everybody bought the Star to see what it had to say about “Jack the Ripper”. It said a lot, and quite
enough to whet the appetite of a gore-loving public.
September 28th the police authorities at Scotland Yard received a postal card. The postman who delivered it was
as white as a ghost, and, as the Pall Mall Gazette said several days later, “nearly fainted from extreme emotion.”
The postal card he delivered was smeared with blood. A facsimile of it is probably familiar to EXAMINER readers.
There was a panic in police headquarters47.
The story contains a number of factual errors, not the least being that The Star did not scoop its competitors by
publishing the Dear Boss letter. In fact, The Star did not publish the letter at all and was almost unique among the
newspapers in pooh-poohing the idea that the correspondence was anything more than a hoax. Additionally, Sir
Charles Warren and Scotland Yard did not keep the correspondence under wraps, but were responsible for making it
public. The other thing we might note about the article is that the writer does not explicitly state that Harry Dam
was responsible for the correspondence, although that is the heavy implication.
Refutation was swift:
AN IDLE STORY
CHICAGO, Dec. 4. — A special from San Francisco was published this morning saying that while Harry Dam, a
New York and San Francisco journalist, ws at work on the London Star he concocted the “Jack the Ripper” letters
which created such a sensation in London in connection with the Whitechapel murders. In reply to the inquiry as to
the truth of the story, T.P. O’Cpnnor, M.P., who was editor of the Star at the time, says he never heard of the story
before and doesn’t believe a word of it48.
47 Francisco Examiner, 2 December 1890. This story was perhaps in some measure prompted by a bursting back into flame of the always-
smouldering pardon brokering scandal with the news that the new Governor Waterman intended to end his term in office with a ‘wholesale
prison delivery’ as theorised in the Fresno Weekly Republican, 21 November 1890.
48 Daily Evening Bulletin (San Francisco), 4 December 1890; Los Angeles Times and Woodland Democrat, 5 December 1890.
London, March 19.— Harry Dam, who was private secretary of Governor Stoneman of California, and who was
accused of selling pardons, is once more before the public. It will be recollected that while he was on T.P.
O’Connor’s Star the first Jack the Ripper stories first saw the light. Harry was accused of “faking” sensations to
help increase the circulation of the newspaper. Now Dam comes to the front as a playwright. . . 49.
Could it be that Harry Dam’s possible authorship of the Jack the Ripper letters was confused with his creation
(or promotion) of the Leather Apron theory? Certainly The Star appears to have been the origin of and main pusher
of the Leather Apron story, whereas it pretty much dismissed ‘Dear Boss’ as a hoax. Lincoln Springfield, who was
there at the time and was presumably speaking from personal knowledge, attributed the Leather Apron story to
Harry Dam.
In the next installment: ‘Henry Jackson Wells Dam (1856-1906): Part 2. Marriage, Theatrical Success, and Death
in Cuba’.
Acknowledgements
The authors thank Simon Wood and Dr Julian North for their help with this article.
Christopher T. George has served as an editor for Ripperologist since 2002 and has been a contributor to
the magazine for the last decade. A past editor of the U.S. Ripper magazine, Ripper Notes, he helped organ-
ize the first American Jack the Ripper convention in Park Ridge, New Jersey, in April 2000.
By profession, Chris is a medical editor in Washington, D.C., and he lives in Baltimore, Maryland, with his
wife Donna and two cats.
Paul Begg had a career background in newspapers, television and publishing before becoming a freelance
writer in 1979. He was formerly the Executive Editor and is a sometime cotributor to Ripperologist and is
author of Jack the Ripper: The Uncensored Facts, Jack the Ripper: The Definitive History, and Jack the Ripper
the Facts, and is co-author of The Jack the Ripper A to Z.
He lives in Kent where he runs a 15th century pub and restaurant — actually all the work is done by his
wife, Judy, and daughter, Sioban, and two Jack Russells.
By Jon Rees
Serial sexual murderers are depraved predators who kill for sexual pleasure, inflict pain and
torture in order to reach orgasm. Who, then, are these ferocious creatures? What drives them
to commit these horrors? And, finally, was Jack the Ripper one of them? In this second article
in my series that analyses the psychology of evil and the Whitechapel murders I shall examine
the idea of serial murder, attempt to answer the above questions and discuss if Jack the
Ripper’s murders had a sexual motive.
To kill for one’s own sexual pleasure is an horrific act, and murder and mutilation for sex-
ual kicks is undoubtedly evil. But why does it happen? Is it that common? And are the people
who commit it monsters among us, or are they indistinguishable from your relatives, friends,
and neighbours? And was the Ripper (often considered to be the first modern serial killer) a sex-
ual serial killer?
First, it is important to realise that not all serial killings have a sexual motive — I suggest sexual serial killing is
a distinct sub-set in a large group of possible motivations. Secondly, the experts cannot agree on whether the Ripper
killings were sexually motivated. Psychiatrists, psychologists and criminologists always like to use Jack the Ripper as
an example in their work, but do not agree on whether his acts had a sexual motivation or not. Clearly it is difficult
using 120-year-old evidence, which is also not always from primary sources, to establish a motive for these murders.
To truly know Jack he would need to have been extensively interviewed by a modern day expert. Nevertheless, I
shall attempt to ascertain if the Ripper was a serial sexual murderer.
I suggest that sexual serial killers commit their crimes for one reason only: to obtain maximal orgasm, which they
cannot achieve through any other means. They kill recreationally, and it is the kill that is usually the focus of the
sexual pleasure, though sometimes torture, mutilation or necrophilia also serves this purpose. While most murders
are committed for a purpose that it is relatively easy for the average, psychologically well-balanced person to under-
stand — jealousy, revenge or money — this is not the case for serial murder, and is certainly not the case for sexual
serial murder. We cannot understand them because their acts seem so far removed from normal human behaviour
and motivation. Jack the Ripper mutilated his victims’ bodies post mortem, and stole their organs. There is no way
that these degradations could have aided in the murder, so why would the Ripper have chosen to spend valuable
escape time doing this. A sexual motive is the most obvious solution. I believe that Jack the Ripper mutilated his vic-
tims’ bodies, faces and organs as an act of sexual degradation, helping him to achieve orgasm and act out his twist-
ed sexual fantasies. For those who suggest a medical reason for the Ripper stealing organs, why would he then feel
Although there is no definitive way to identify such killers before they commit their crimes, research into their
backgrounds has found many striking similarities.
Serial sexual killers will usually begin to kill in their mid- to late-20s, but the age can range between early 20s
and mid-30s. While the killers’ actions may appear to dictate otherwise to the casual observer, they do not sudden-
ly become psychotic and start killing; they are firmly connected with reality and aware of their actions at all times.
It is during childhood that they first begin to develop symptoms of their violent disorder. Their childhood play is joy-
less and aggressive. At an early age they become loners, and prefer fantasy to reality. Their sexual fantasies begin
in mid-adolescence (usually 10 to 15 years before they begin killing), and these fantasies will be a combination of
sexuality, violence and hatred. They commit rebellious acts and are difficult to control. They will commit many acts
of petty (and sometimes more serious) crime — indulging in lying, stealing, playing with fire and cruelty to animals
and other children.
Though they come from varied backgrounds, there are some features that can be quite common (but by no means
occur in all instances). They may be victims of physical or sexual abuse, be illegitimate/adopted, be the children of
prostitutes or have over-protective, controlling mothers. Despite all this and their deep resentment and hatred, no
particular childhood trauma has ever been found to explain the actions of a serial sexual murderer.
Their petty criminal behaviour will escalate and become more serious as they progress into adulthood, beginning
with assault and violence, and gradually committing crimes such as arson, abduction, rape, non-sexual murder and
then finally committing their first sadistic sexual or necrophilic murder.
How can a person gain pleasure from an act that most of us find deplorable? The thought of someone gaining sexu-
al arousal from taking a life is revolting to a well-adjusted person, so how can they feel pleasure from this heinous act?
In the literature, the serial sexual murderer is described as a sadistic sexual psychopath. They will deliver suf-
fering upon a living victim and gain sexual pleasure from it. The sexual and aggressive urges are linked together in
childhood, unable to achieve one without the other; they feel sexually dominant through the act of sadism. And, if
they want the dominance to extend into death, they may also engage in necrophilia.
I discussed psychopathia at some length in my previous article, noting that not all psychopaths are killers and
not all killers are psychopaths. In the same vein, not all sadists are killers (some may be sexually satisfied by engag-
ing in masochistic acts with a consenting partner) and not all necrophiles are murderers (preferring instead to dig
up corpses, or seek employment somewhere with easy access to them). It is through this lethal combination of sex-
uality, sadism (or necrophilia) and psychopathia that the serial sexual killer is born.
They will often be sexually dysfunctional, perhaps suffering impotence during normal sexual acts. They will often
be unable to maintain mature, consensual sexual relationships. Through fulfilling their violent sexual fantasies, they
are able to achieve the orgasm they cannot reach during normal sexual acts. Their sexual acts will often be regres-
sive, sadistic parodies of normal sexual acts.
All of us have sexual fantasies, mostly based upon mutual sexual satisfaction. This is not true for the serial sex-
ual murderer; their fantasies will have themes of power, dominance and exploitation. In these fantasies the subject
will be degraded and humiliated and the fantasist will gain enjoyment from imagining his partner suffering.
Eventually these fantasies will become too powerful to control. The fantasist will be unable to be satisfied by them
alone and they will move on to killing for the first time. They will feel empowered and the fantasies will be fuelled
by the act of the murder and will become more elaborate and more extreme.
We have seen that the Ripper does fit in quite well with certain aspects of the profile (if you will forgive the
word) of the serial sexual murderer. He had his characteristic signature, his victims were the weak and vulnerable,
his crimes became more elaborate over time, he took the organs of his victims and mutilated their bodies post
mortem. But there are also some contradictions. Jack was a fast worker — he disabled his victims and killed them
instantly, not in a slow sadistic manner. He only mutilated post mortem, and there is no evidence he had sex with
any of his victims — before or after death. Can this be explained by the characteristics we have seen of the serial
sexual killer?
It can be worked around: Not all serial sexual killers engage in the same acts. Jack killed in public places and
only had a limited amount of time. Slowly killing his victims would not have been practical. It was only after their
death that he had the chance to perform the aim of the killing, his mutilations.
Does the organ stealing fit into the category of serial sexual murderer? Yes, several other killers of this type took
their victim’s organs and ate them (just as the Ripper possibly did), Edmund Kemper and Jeffrey Dahmer being the
two most notable. Of the latter, from the reasons he gave after his arrest for doing this, Dahmer gave explanations
similar to primitive cannibalistic merger fantasies or an aberrational twist on the human desire to bond with others.
And, like the Ripper, Jeffrey Dahmer does not fit the classic profile of the serial sexual murderer, but there can be
no doubt he is one.
Perhaps the model is not perfect, psychologists and criminologists are constantly adapting and their knowledge
growing and in years to come we will have a better understanding of this breed of killer. And perhaps this is why the
Ripper does not fit exactly the profile of the serial sexual murderer — because he is the same, only different at the
same time.
In the 1980s the FBI conducted a study of serial sexual murderers on death row
in the USA. Many of those interviewed fit the traditional “profile” of the serial
sexual murderer, but out of those that did not one in particular stands out.In the
book written about the study, Sexual Homicide: Patterns and Motives, Robert
Ressler writes of a serial sexual murderer whose crimes seem very similar to Jack
the Ripper’s a century earlier.
The murderer in question slept in a bed with his mother and aunt when, at
age five, his aunt (who was pregnant at the time) suffered a severe haemorrhage
and miscarried, losing lots of blood in the bed, bedroom and bathroom. At around
the same time his grandmother also underwent a hysterectomy. These events trig-
gered a morbid fascination with blood and organs (both his own and female). He
began to link rage and sexual frustration, experiencing penetration fantasies (he
once was motivated to stab his girlfriend almost on impulse after she teased him
sexually). This penetration fantasy was also carried out in his murders when he
disembowelled his victims. Though it is difficult to be sure from the way the book
is structured, it is likely this murderer is the same as the one later described by
Ressler as thus: “In one case, there were no obvious signs of sex-
ual assault; however, the disembowelment of the victim was
later found to have sexual meaning for the killer1.”
1 Bad men do what good men dream, Robert Simon MD, American Psychiatric Publishing Inc, 2008
2 ibid.
Sources:
Robert I Simon M.D. — Bad men do what good men dream: A Forensic Psychiatrist illuminates the darker side of
human behaviour.
David Canter — Criminal Shadows
Robert K Ressler, Ann W Burgess, John E Douglas — Sexual Homicide: Patterns and Motives
David Putwain and Aidan Sammons — Psychology and Crime
David Canter — Criminal Psychology
Jon Rees is a student from Swansea, Wales. He is studying Criminology and Psychology at
Swansea University.
After graduating he hopes to start a Masters in Forensic Psychology. He is a regular poster and
moderator on JTRForums.com, and in his spare time is a Scout Leader.
By Simon D Wood
‘I wish to state emphatically that in recent years the Police have succeeded only by strain-
ing the law, or, in plain English, by doing utterly unlawful things . . .’
Metropolitan Police Memorandum initialled by Dr Robert Anderson, 13 December 1898: HO45/10254/X36450, sub. 77.
At some time after 16 November 1888, Francis Tumblety, an Irish-American pimple-banishing quack doctor bailed
in the sum of £300 on four counts of gross indecency — a contemporary legal term for homosexual conduct — fled
England for France. On 24 November, under the assumed name ‘Frank Townsend’, he boarded the steamship La
Bretagne bound for New York at the port of Le Havre. Nothing about him appeared in the British press. The first any-
one knew about his arrest was when a spate of stories sprang up in the American press. Here are two examples:
‘The Dr. Tumblety who was arrested in London a few days ago on suspicion of complicity in the Whitechapel
murders, and who when proved innocent of that charge was held for trial in the Central Criminal Court under the
special law covering the offences disclosed in the late “Modern Babylon” scandal1, will be remembered by any num-
ber of Brooklynites and New-Yorkers as Dr. Blackburn, the Indian herb doctor.’
Le Bretagne
The New York Times had more to say about the
Indian herb doctor arrested in London. On 4
December 1888, it reported:
‘Inspector Andrews, of Scotland Yard, has arrived in New York Inspector Walter Simon Andrews
The Gazette did not name any names: not Tumblety’s, not anybody else’s. Nor would any serving police officer
name Tumblety in connection with the Whitechapel murders, or in any other context, for many years.
In his 1928 book Masters of Crime, Guy Bertie Harris Logan, an English journalist and crime writer who was 19
years old at the time of the Whitechapel murders, wrote:
‘The murders ceased, I think, with the Millers Court one, and I am the more disposed to this view because, though
the fact was kept a close secret at the time, I know that one of Scotland Yard’s best men, Inspector Andrews, was sent
specially to America in December 1888 in search of the Whitechapel fiend on the strength of important information,
the nature of which was never disclosed. Nothing, however, came of it, and the Inspector’s mission was a failure.’
Logan was certainly right about one thing: Inspector Walter Simon Andrews travelled to America in December
1888. It could not be really said, however, that he was sent especially in search of the Ripper, since his original mis-
sion was to deliver a prisoner to the Canadian authorities. His journey was covered extensively in the American press.
‘NEW YORK, Dec. 15—[Special.]—Several Scotland Yard detectives are in this country looking up evidence for the
Times suit against Parnell2. Fred Jarvis of Scotland Yard has been in this country and he is now at Kansas City. It
was known in New York Friday last [7 December] that Chief Inspector Shore, Superintendent of the Criminal
Investigation Department of the Metropolitan Police, arrived and proceeded without loss of time to Kansas City.
There he was to meet with the representative of the Pinkertons3 and with Fred Jarvis . . .’
2 Charles Stewart Parnell (1846 – 1891) was an Irish nationalist political leader, member of the British Parliament and founder and leader
of the Irish Parliamentary Party. In March 1887 The Times accused Parnell of support for the murder of the Chief Secretary for Ireland, Lord
Frederick Cavendish, and the Permanent Under-Secretary, Thomas Henry Burke, in Phoenix Park, Dublin, on 6 May 1882, and published let-
ters that suggested Parnell was complicit in the murders. A Special Commission of Enquiry was created in August 1888 at Parnell’s request
to investigate The Times’s allegations. In February 1889 the Commission established that the letters were in fact a forgery by Richard
Piggott, an anti-Parnellite journalist. The Commission’s report published in February 1890 cleared Parnell of these accusations. Parnell then
took The Times to court and the newspaper paid him £5,000 damages in an out-of-court settlement.
3 The Pinkerton National Detective Agency, usually shortened to the Pinkertons, was a private American security guard and detective
agency established by Allan Pinkerton in 1850. On the death of Allan Pinkerton in 1884, his sons Robert A and William A Pinkerton took
over the management of the agency.
IMPORTANT CLEWS
A SCOTLAND YARD DETECTIVE’S DOUBLE MISSION
Working Up the Parnell Case in America
‘TORONTO DEC. 19—It seems that Inspector Andrews of Scotland Yard who brought the much-wanted Roland
Gideon Israel Barnett to this country for trial in connection with the wrecking of the Central Bank, has been killing
two birds with one stone.
‘Inspector Andrews left last night for Europe.
Charles Stewart Parnell
Before his departure he stated to an interviewer
that since he had been in Toronto he had
obtained some important clews in the Parnell
case, facts that he did not dream had existed, but
he refused to discuss the mysterious things he
had discovered. It is well known that the inspec-
tor paid several mysterious visits to parties in
this city whom he called friends, but even the
Toronto detectives would not divulge these
friends’ names. Several evenings were spent in
this kind of work, and it is to be presumed that
Scotland Yard has an agent in this city.
‘But Inspector Andrews is not the only officer
of Scotland Yard at present on a similar mission.
Inspector Fred Jarvis, a bosom friend of his, and
also Chief Inspector Shore of the same depart-
ment are in the United States hunting evidence.
It is said that for over three years three of
Pinkerton’s most expert men have been at work
on the Irish national societies. One of these men
is the celebrated McParland who broke up the
Molly Maguires4.’
‘NEW YORK, December 21—[Special]—The World’s Montreal special says: Inspector Andrews of Scotland Yard
arrived here today from Toronto and left to-night for New York . . . He refused to answer any questions regarding
his mission, but said that there were twenty-eight detectives, two clerks and one inspector employed on the
Whitechapel murder cases, and that the police were without a jot of evidence upon which to arrest anybody . . .
It was announced at police headquarters today that Andrews has a commission in connection with two other
Scotland Yard men to find the murderer in America . . .”’
But was Andrews really after the Whitechapel murderer? A report in a New York newspaper gave a totally differ-
ent account of his mission, ostensibly based on statements by Andrews himself.
‘Montreal, Que., Dec. 22, 1888.—Prominent Irish nationalists of this city are much excited over an avowal of
Inspector Andrews, of Scotland Yard, who brought Roland Gideon Israel Barnett, the wrecker of the Central Bank,
of Toronto, that he has also occupied his time, both here and in Toronto, in working up evidence for the London
Times with the object of associating the Parnellite party with outrages and murders in Ireland.
‘Ever since his arrival in the country and his subsequent lengthy stay in Toronto rumors have been current to
the effect that he was one of many men in the employ of the British government, arrayed against the representa-
tives of the Irish people in the search for the least evidence that will seemingly injure the Parnellites, but until
now Andrews has flatly denied it.
‘This morning, however, on the eve of his departure for home the emissary of Scotland Yard admitted that he
could not deny the charge, and practically acknowledged that that was his mission. He had, however, to admit that
he had not been very successful, many of the men whom he had interviewed declining to become informers on their
trusted leaders. Some evidence of an unimportant character may have been gathered, but it is the general belief
here that it will not affect the proceedings before the Parnellite Commission to any material extent. Mr. Andrews
distinctly said he had not been looking after Fenians and Invincibles, confining his attention to members of the
National League, especially recent arrivals from Ireland, though he had had communications with the English police
agents in the United States and from this latter source he hoped much5.
5 The Fenians, both the Fenian Brotherhood and Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB), were organisations dedicated to the establishment
of an independent Irish Republic in the 19th and early 20th century. The Irish National Invincibles, usually known as ‘the Invincibles’ were
a radical splinter group of the IRB established in Dublin in December 1881 under the direction of Patrick Joseph Sheridan. Its avowed aim
was to assassinate Irish government officials who aided English attempts at coercion. On 6 May 1882, members of the Invincibles commit-
ted the Phoenix Park murders. The Irish National League (INL) was a nationalist political party founded in October 1882 by Charles Stewart
Parnell .
A STARTLING REVELATION.
‘Though he could not divulge the secrets of his profession, he could say that there was an organized detective
system in behalf of the British government in both Canada and the United States, and that if the names of these
detectives were made public Irishmen all over the world would receive a shock that would cause a sensation beside
which the Phoenix Park tragedies would pale into insignificance.
‘These men were in the inner circles, in many cases occupied high positions in Irish societies, and every impor-
tant move was instantly reported to the London authorities by either a secret cable cipher or by mail. Many of these
men received annual allowances from the British government, but in all cases the payments were made through
some private persons so as to avoid suspicion and detection.
‘The chiefs of this detective service were Fred Jarvis and Chief Inspector Shore, and he had had a conference
with them at Niagara which he hoped would be fruitful. Other members of this British service were employed by
the Pinkertons, while still others occupied high positions in mercantile life.
‘Andrews further said that the greater portion of the Times evidence has been secured in the United States,
and he hinted that they had secured some correspondence between the Irish leaders in Britain and the extremists
on this side of the Atlantic.
‘Irish Leaguers here are very indignant at these statements, and unhesitatingly denounce them as the fabrica-
tions of a seeker after notoriety. Henry J. Cloran, President of the National League, declared that Andrews’ avowals
were nothing new to him. Long before he left London the leading Irishmen here were notified that he was coming,
and ever since Andrews landed at Halifax he had been watched by men in his own business, so that his every move
was known. They feared nothing from Andrews’ mission, for he had not been able to persuade even one poor wretch
to offer to perjure himself and curse his country; this notwithstanding the fact that several Leaguers offered to go to
London and tell what they knew on payment of a lump sum, which would have been handed over to the Parnell fund.
‘Already several cases of this kind have occurred, and in this way the Times has helped to pay Parnell’s expenses.
Members of the League in Canada did not care if Scotland Yard sent all its officers wandering through the country. It
would create no alarm if it was learned that English detectives had been in the habit of attending their meetings.
‘Judging by the experience of the Times with some of its witnesses, Inspector Andrews was so dubious of the
material offered to him that he concluded to make his return journey alone. Immigrants recently from Ireland could
probably tell many strange things, but their evidence might not be of a character suited to the purpose of the
Times.’
Andrews next travelled from Montreal to New York. This time the British press had something to say:
‘Inspector Andrews of Scotland Yard has arrived in New York from Montreal. It is generally believed that he has
received orders from England to commence his search in this city for the Whitechapel murderer. Mr Andrews is
reported to have said that there are half a dozen English detectives, two clerks, and one inspector employed in
America in the same chase . . . The supposed inaction of the Whitechapel murderer for a considerable period and
the fact that a man suspected of knowing a good deal about this series of crimes left England for this side of the
Atlantic three weeks ago, has, says the Telegraph correspondent, produced the impression that Jack the Ripper is
in that country.’
Virtually the same report appeared in the Thanet Advertiser on 5 January 1889. The Advertiser, however, added
a few highly significant lines:
‘The Irish American Nationalists suggest that the inspector is not in search of the Whitechapel murderer, but is
hunting up evidence for the Parnell Commission.’
According to the foregoing newspaper reports, Andrews’s journey from Toronto to Montreal took four days. It is
safe to speculate that during this time he stopped at Niagara on the American — Canadian border for a ‘conference’
with Inspector Frederick Jarvis and Chief Superintendent John Shore of Scotland Yard, whom he called ‘the chiefs’
of ‘an organized detective system on behalf of the British government in both Canada and the United States’.
We must ask ourselves why Andrews went from Toronto to New York via Montreal, which involved a 330-mile-long
rail journey, a full day of travel at the time, in the opposite direction. Furthermore, Andrews was reported to be in
Montreal ‘on the eve of his departure for home’, which suggests he was en route for Halifax, Nova Scotia. If he had
bought a return steamship ticket, could he have boarded the SS Sarnia in time for its return voyage to Liverpool?
The Dominion Line steamship Sarnia plied between Liverpool, Halifax and Portland, Maine. It sailed from Portland
on Thursday 20 December, arriving at Halifax on Saturday 22 December and departing the same day. It arrived at
Moville, north-west Ireland, at 9.00 pm on Sunday 30 December and landed mail before proceeding with its journey
at 10.20 pm. It reached Liverpool on Tuesday 1 January 1889. If Andrews had returned to England on the SS Sarnia,
he would have been somewhere on the Irish Sea on 31 December 1888, at the time the Pall Mall Gazette was report-
ing his arrival in New York.
‘I am prepared to substantiate on oath, the fact asserted by Mr Matthews that neither the “Assistant
Commissioner of Police” nor the department which he controls has given help to The Times in the presentation of
their case before the Commission.’
‘Mark my words, sir, we have not yet heard the last of this ultra morbid misogynist, this demon incarnate, whose
unholy delight is to dye his hands in the blood of his foully murdered victims. He has a nature which Moloch might
have envied, and in my opinion is not one to rest content with a paltry half dozen offerings. Before long his hell-
ish hands will again find work to do. Soon will the death groan of another unfortunate punctuate the stillness of
some Whitechapel purlieu, and next morning palsy-stricken London will cry, “Where are the police?’”’
The most probable explanation for the complete absence of post-Montreal American press coverage of Andrews’s
pursuit of the Whitechapel murderer is that Andrews did not go to New York at all. If he did, it was on some other,
secret, business, or to board a transatlantic liner bound for England.
Furthermore the reason for Andrews’s meeting with Shore and Jarvis at Niagara is unclear. The following press
report may throw some light on it:
Lincoln, Nebraska, [Tuesday] December 25th—It is reported that British detectives were in Lincoln seeking testi-
mony favorable to the London Times in the Parnell-Times trial. A correspondent made enquiries of John P. Sutton,
Secretary of the Irish National League of America, concerning the presence of such detectives here and their object
in coming. Mr Sutton said,
“There are no English detectives in the city now, but four or five passed through, east bound, on Friday or
Saturday last [21/22 December]. I do not know where they came from. Yes, they are real English detectives—
Scotland Yard men. These men are hunting up a number of scalawags throughout this country who have been pos-
ing as Irish revolutionists, but who are themselves discredited characters among those who are honestly opposed
to constitutional agitation as a remedy for Irish grievances. P. J. Sheridan, of Montevista, had occasion to deny the
rumour that he was about to appear as a Times witness. No man conversant with the present agitation for Irish leg-
islative rights has the smallest doubt of Mr Sheridan’s honour and integrity. He has no detrimental evidence to give,
and if he had, England has not money enough to purchase it. For years past the English government has had its spies
in all the large centers of Irish population. They have been here in Lincoln to our positive knowledge, and it is a
strong commentary on the strictly constitutional methods of the League, that the men have been unable to connect
the present movement with anything that, under American or English common law, could be deemed unlawful.”’
Just over two weeks later a variation of this story broke in an American newspaper, complete with numerous tran-
scriptions of letters and telegrams between Kirby, the private investigator from Montreal, and someone identified
only as J.C.S. Let’s see what it said:
‘ . . . during the past month Buffalo has been haunted by a Scotland Yard detective, who registered as J.T. Kerby
[sic], though in the correspondence he appears also under the assumed name of “Cris [sic] Thomas”.
‘His mission was to secure evidence to establish the authenticity of the letters in possession of the London Times,
implicating Charles Stewart Parnell with the murders which occurred in Phoenix Park some years ago.’
The upshot of the story was that the whole thing was a hoax in which, between August and December 1888, Kirby
was steadily milked of $500 of The Times’s money.
Superintendent Shore’s perambulations after leaving New York City, Kansas City and Niagara cannot yet be traced. We
are on slightly firmer ground, however, with Inspector Jarvis. Could he have been the Scotland Yard detective sent to
America in pursuit of the Whitechapel murderer? Jarvis was the ideal man for the job. He had spent two years doing secret
service work in New York, where he married Fanny, a local girl. Jarvis’s son, Walter Byron, was born in New York in 1872.
By 1881 the family had moved to London, and can be found in the Census living at 44 Edithna Street, Lambeth.
Jarvis arrived in New York In November 1888 armed with 44 warrants. He had ostensibly come to America to extra-
dite Thomas Barton, who was wanted in England for forging London and Northwestern Railway Company stock cer-
tificates. Their arrival was widely covered in the press. Some newspapers reported the basic facts of his journey;
some, the wildest rumours.
‘Frederick Jarvis, a detective inspector of Scotland Yard, London, England, whose appearance in New York some
time ago gave rise to the story that he had come over to collect evidence against Mr. Parnell in the suit against the
London Times, has been on the trail of the fugitive [Barton] almost from the day he absconded. The vigilant detec-
tive followed several clews, leading him through British America, Manitoba, Canada and ending in this city. . .
[Jarvis] did not know Barton, but after his arrest the officer introduced himself, and informed the prisoner that he
had charge of the execution of forty-four warrants charging him with forgery. Barton replied: “That is quite right”.
‘Edward Plant, of No. 64 Vincent Street, Macclesfield, England, who had been brought over to identify the fugi-
tive, recognized Barton as a man with whom he had played as a boy, and whom he had known intimately up to the
time of the flight.’
‘The [New York] Herald says: On the 11th December last the Herald astonished the Irish nationalists in America
by the publication of an article about the movements of London detectives. Some months before the date men-
tioned Fred Jervis [sic], a well known Scotland Yard man, arrived in America, and made no great secret of the fact
that he was here in the interest of the London Times to ferret out information about the movements of Irish-
American conspirators, and particularly those of dynamiters.
‘Chief Inspector Shore, superintendent of the criminal investigation department of the London metropolitan
police, also came out with the same intention—to try to connect the Parnellites with the crimes charged. Shore
went to Kansas City to meet Jarvis and the representatives of Pinkerton. Three of the Pinkerton men have been for
years at work on the Irish national secret societies. One of them, it seems, communicated direct with Scotland Yard,
and Manager Bangs of this city admitted it to an Irish nationalist, who caught him in a trap . . .
After the arrival of Shore and Jervis [sic] was known it was discovered that Inspector Andrews of Scotland Yard
was in Toronto and Montreal, also on the same errand . . .’
‘Friends of Ireland . . . were excited today over the report of a plot between English detectives, now in this
country in the interest of the London Times, and some hot-headed advocates of the cause, to blow up an English
passenger steamer in New York harbour . . .’
‘William Pinkerton stated: “It has also been published throughout the country that Superintendent John Shore,
of the Criminal Investigation Department in London, was in this country in connection with the Parnell case, as also
was Chief Inspector Jarvis and Inspector Andrews of the detective department of Scotland Yard, and that they with
members of Pinkerton’s agency were working on the same case.
“Mr. William A. Pinkerton states most emphatically that their agency is not now and never has been in the serv-
ice of the London Times in connection with the Parnell case, and that all these stories are sensational and absurd.
Superintendent Shore of Scotland Yard has not been in America in the past four of five years. Inspector Andrews of
Scotland Yard brought a bank defaulter from London, England, to Toronto, and turned him over to the authorities
and returned to England inside of a week.
“About six weeks ago the Pinkerton agency were advised from Scotland Yard to look for a man named Thomas
Barton, charged with forgery to the amount of about $125,000 on the London and Northwestern Railroad, in
England. About six weeks ago Chief Inspector Jarvis, of London, arrived in this country . . .
“Mr. Jarvis is the only English inspector that Mr. William A. Pinkerton knows of who has been in the United States
recently in connection with any business, and whose headquarters is at Scotland Yard.”’
‘ST. PAUL, Minn., Jan. 21.—The Scotland Yard detective, Jarvis, who was reported in a dispatch recently to be
working up evidence in the London Times’s case against Mr. Parnell, was in St. Paul a short time ago. His business
in America has nothing to do with the London Times or Mr. Parnell. He was in this country looking for Thomas
Barton, charged with forgeries on the London and Northwestern Railway to the amount of $125,000. Six weeks ago
the Pinkerton Agency was advised from Scotland Yard to look out for Barton, who was known to have crossed the
Atlantic, shortly after Chief Jarvis arrived in New York.
‘As it was known that Barton had friends and connections in Manitoba, Jarvis started at once for the Northwest.
He remained in Chicago one day and in St. Paul one day on his way to Winnipeg. While here he made himself known
to Chief of Police [John] Clark and Chief of Detectives John O’Connor, and was entertained by them.
‘While Jarvis was in Winnipeg working on a false lead Barton was apprehended and arrested in Philadelphia by R.
J. Linden, Superintendent of the Pinkerton Agency of Philadelphia. In returning from Winnipeg, Inspector Jarvis, know-
ing that Barton had been arrested, stopped over in St. Paul three days, being the guest of the local police officials.’
‘Philadelphia, Jan. 22—Captain Linden, of Pinkerton’s Detective Agency, with Frederick Jarvis, a detective inspec-
tor of Scotland Yard, London, England, arrested in this city last night Thos. Barton, of Macclesfield, England . . .
‘The London & Northwestern Railway Company instituted the search for him [Barton] and bear all the expenses
of the prosecution. Detective Jarvis is the one about whom there has been rumours of dynamite explosion plans,
and who has been talked of as having been sent here by the London Times to secure evidence.’
‘. . . the man was arrested in this city late Monday night by Captain Linden of Pinkerton’s Agency and Detective
Inspector Frederick Jarvis of Scotland Yard, London, England, and was given a hearing yesterday before Magistrate
Durham . . .’
‘The capture in Philadelphia of Thomas Barton, an Englishman charged with forgery to the extent of $100,000,
was reported yesterday by the Pinkertons. Barton was, up to 1886, they say, a silk weaver in Macclesfield, Cheshire,
England. He was a co-Trustee with his mother, under his father’s will, and on account of this office had possession
of scrip certificated of stock of the London and Northwestern Railway Company. He was thus easily able to forge
his mother’s name to the various deeds of transfer of the stock, and so dispose of the securities to his own profit.
The present cash value of the stock is put at £20,000.
‘In July, 1886, Barton came to this country, and in the following March his wife and his two sons sailed for Halifax,
en route for Montreal. Inspector Fred Jarvis of Scotland Yard, London, came here in November, 1888, to trace Barton
and secure his arrest. For this work he secured the aid of Pinkerton’s National Detective Agency.
‘It was found that Barton had lived for some time at 426 Poplar Street, Philadelphia, under the name of Henry
Cave, but when the detectives visited the house he had been gone for several months. He had, however, left his bag-
gage behind. Soon after a letter came to his landlady at 426 Poplar Street, saying that he was about to leave
Philadelphia. His wife was, after a long hunt, found near Brandon City, Manitoba. Jarvis, going there, secured infor-
mation which enabled him to arrest Barton yesterday at a boarding house known as the “Bradford Arms” at
Germantown, Penn. In this he was aided by Superintendent R. J. Linden of the Pinkertons. The prisoner seems to
have little money. He has been working as a weaver in this country. He is held for extradition.’
While it is odd that a reporter from St. Paul, Minnesota, got the story a day before the Philadelphia Enquirer did,
it is even odder that The Times had broken the story nine days earlier. In effect, on 14 January 1889 The Times had
reported:
‘Philadelphia, 12th January—Thomas Barton, alias Cave, of Macclesfield, England, has been arrested here . . .
This arrest was effected through the skill of Inspector Jarvis, of Scotland Yard, who came out for the purpose. The
prisoner is held in custody pending an application for his extradition.’
From the preceding accounts it is not clear who actually arrested Barton, but closer scrutiny reveals that Jarvis
was not involved and that it was all the work of the Pinkertons. This is borne out by The Times, which on 19 April
1889 reported Barton’s appearance at Bow Street Magistrates Court, London, and quoted Jarvis as saying that he
‘went to the United States and found the prisoner in custody at Philadelphia’.
On 18 January 1889, the Daily Inter Ocean reported William Pinkerton as saying:
‘As Barton was known to have a number of friends in Manitoba, Inspector Jarvis came direct through to Chicago,
remained one day, and then went to the British Northwest, awaiting the extradition of Thomas Barton to England.’
If nothing else, William A Pinkerton’s story confirms that Barton was arrested on 12 January and not 21 January,
Allan Pinkerton, the founder of the Pinkerton Detective Agency ‘The statement is published periodically in certain New York
newspapers that detectives from Scotland Yard, with the assis-
tance of the Pinkertons, are searching for evidence in the Parnell trial . . .
‘The published statements were so positive that a Tribune reporter asked George D. Bangs, the New York super-
intendent of the Pinkerton agency, if there was any foundation for them. He replied concisely: ‘So far as this agency
is concerned, the story printed in The Herald is made out of whole cloth. I know that Chief Inspector Shore is not
here, and that he has not been here. Inspector Jarvis is here, but I know that he is engaged in a criminal case in
no way connected with the Irish matter.’
‘Mr Bangs said that Robert A Pinkerton, who is at present in Chicago, attempted to answer a similar report print-
ed in The World in December. He sent to The World the following letter, which has never been published.
“Sir: In the issue of your paper for Sunday, December 23, I notice an article headed “Irish eyes followed him; a
detective’s hunt in Canada for evidence for the Parnell Commission,” and a special dispatch to The World from
Montreal, dated December 22, to the effect that for three months detectives from Scotland Yard, London, have
been visiting cities in Canada and the United States collecting evidence for the benefit of The London Times in its
suit against Mr Parnell, and that Chief Inspector Shore, Superintendent of Criminal Investigation Department, all
of Scotland Yard, were working in this country on the above matter, with the assistance of the “Pinkertons”.’
“The article goes on to say that for several years Pinkerton’s detectives have been working among Irish secret
societies in Kansas City, St Louis, Lincoln, Neb., and Chicago. I wish positively to contradict the statements above
“ROBERT A PINKERTON
“General Superintendent Eastern Division”
‘ROBERT A PINKERTON
‘General Superintendent Eastern Division
On 17 March 1890, the debate was resumed. Irish MP William Ellison-Macartney, a future Governor of Tasmania
and Western Australia, asked Matthews ‘whether there are two constables, named Jarvis and Shaw, in the employ-
ment of the British Government; and, if so, of what force are they members; whether it is the fact that they were
employed by the Times for the purpose of procuring evidence or the attendance of Sheridan or other witnesses
before the Special Commission; whether, if so employed, they were at Kansas City during the month of December,
1888; and whether they, or either of them, were at any time in communication with Sheridan?’ Matthews replied
that Jarvis and Shaw were inspectors in the Metropolitan Police Force and that it was not the fact that they were
employed at any time, directly or indirectly, by or for The Times, in procuring evidence or the attendance of any
witnesses. He concluded: ‘The answer to my Hon. Friend’s remaining questions is in the negative.’
‘ . . . On the 11th inst., in the House of Commons, Mr Labouchere made a speech in which he attempted to show
‘Sir,—Mr Labouchere has not made much progress with the proofs of his story about Inspector Jarvis. Last night
he endeavoured to extract some confirmation of it from Mr Matthews, but signally failed. Permit me to recall the
facts. On the 11th inst. Mr Labouchere charged the Government and The Times with being concerned together in a
discreditable intrigue to procure evidence in America incriminating the Irish members. He based this charge upon
the presence of Inspector Jarvis of the Metropolitan Police in the neighbourhood of P J Sheridan’s residence in
But Labouchere pressed on undeterred. On 28 March, he asked Matthews whether he would inquire from Jarvis
whether he was, in November or December of 1888, at Kansas City with two persons named Pinkerton, who have a
private detective agency in the United States; whether he went with the two Pinkertons to Pueblo, Colorado, and
whether he went himself to Del Norte, which is close to the ranch belonging to Patrick Sheridan; whether his pres-
ence in Del Norte was in any way connected with the vicinity of the ranch to that town; and whether the Pinkertons’
agency is employed by Her Majesty’s Government. Matthews reiterated that Jarvis had never been at or near Kansas
City, or Del Norte, Colorado. ‘The story of this officer’s mission to Colorado,’ he added, ‘is an absolute fabrication.
I make this statement on the information of Jarvis’s superior officer, who, of course, has taken proper means to sat-
isfy himself of the facts.’
Labouchere’s allegations were protected by parliamentary privilege, which allows Members to speak in Parliament
without fear of legal action on the grounds of slander. But when he published his allegations in his weekly journal
Truth on 3 and 17 April 1890 he ceased to be protected by parliamentary privilege and laid himself open to charges
of libel. Obviously, he wouldn’t have made this move if he hadn’t been absolutely certain of the truth of his allega-
tions. This time it was Metropolitan Police Commissioner James Monro who wrote to The Times. His letter was pub-
lished on 19 April 1890.
TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD
‘Sir,—My attention has been directed to a statement in this week’s issue of Truth, which is a repetition of asser-
tions made in the issue of the same periodical of the 3rd instant, to the effect that in November or December 1888,
an officer of the Metropolitan Police—Inspector Jarvis—was at Kansas City, and at Del Norte, a village in the State
of Colorado, United States of America, employed under the orders of Government in aiding The Times to procure
the evidence of P J Sheridan.
‘As Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis, responsible for and cognizant of the movements of the officers
of the force under my orders, I think it right to give to the statements and assertions above referred to the most
unqualified denial. Such statements and assertions are absolutely untrue. Since I became Assistant Commissioner
of Police in 1884 until now, neither Inspector Jarvis nor any other officer of the Metropolitan Police has been at
any time within many hundred miles of either Kansas or Colorado, nor has any officer of the force been in America
Monro’s letter was followed in The Times on 26 April 1890 by another letter also critical of the article in Truth.
‘Sir,—My attention has been drawn to a paragraph which appeared in last week’s issue of Truth, during my
absence from town. It refers to the Attorney General’s speech in the House of Commons, when he mentioned my
name in reference to P J Sheridan. As various constructions seem to have been put as to in what capacity and on
whose behalf I went to America, I may as well explain the fact that on 27th April 1889, Mr Soames wrote to Mr. St.
John Wontner saying he wanted to meet with a solicitor or experienced common law managing clerk, with a head
on his shoulders, and possessed of tact and judgment, who would undertake an important mission abroad for him,
to which Mr. Wontner replied as follows:
“Dear Sir,—The bearer, Mr Birch, has been with us for some years as a managing clerk, and has had considerable
experience in getting up difficult cases requiring careful and discreet inquiries. We have always found him very use-
ful, and he seems to be the sort of man you want. You can better judge after discussing the matter with him, and
if he suits you may have his services for the time, though we shall be very sorry to be without him.
“Yours truly,
“St. John Wontner.
“Joseph Soames Esq., 58 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, WC.”
‘After this correspondence, the matter, so far as Messrs. Wontner were concerned ended; in fact, up to the pres-
ent time they are completely ignorant of any of the details of my movements.
‘I went to America on my own responsibility as agent for Mr Soames, solicitor to The Times. My instructions were
to see Sheridan, test his evidence which he had already offered to give, and see how far it was corroborated, which
I did. Truth seems to doubt this, and states that I was “a sort of detective”, and that I was “endeavouring to get
Sheridan to give evidence for The Times in consideration of a high bribe”. Such statements are absolutely untrue,
and I think it only right to give them the most emphatic denial.
A heavy fog of denial hung in the air. The Government was against a public hearing. On 2 May 1890, Godfrey
Lushington, Permanent Under-Secretary at the Home Office, remarked in a memorandum:
‘ . . . if there have been any questionable proceedings on the part of the Government or Police Agents, these
might come to light in the course of the trial with damaging consequences.’
Yet the following month the unwanted public hearing appeared unavoidable. As usual, the American press was
well informed. The Galveston Daily News, a newspaper from Galveston, Texas, reported on 26 May 1890:
RESIGNATION OF MR MONRO
On 20 June, during the discussion of the Police Salary Estimates for the year ending on 31 March 1891, Labouchere
noted that the Metropolitan Police Commissioner’s salary was £1,500 a year, and added that It might be wise, see-
ing the position that official held, the duties he had to discharge, and the large force of men he had to command,
to grant a larger salary. He then said:
‘But I have heard that Mr. Monro received £1,000 a year from the Secret Service Fund… As I understand, Mr.
Anderson did receive a considerable sum from that source for looking after detective business in America in regard
to Irishmen, but this has been discontinued since he became Assistant Commissioner, and the duties have since been
undertaken and the money received by Mr. Monro.’ To conclude, Labouchere said: ‘This is most objectionable, if cor-
rect, and we ought to know exactly what the salary of the Commissioner is.’
Matthews replied that Monro received nothing but what appeared on the Estimates and added that he had an
Indian pension. Labouchere then asked who was now at the head of this detective business in America. Told that his
question did not relate to the subject under discussion, he asked whether any of the Assistant Commissioners
received anything from the Secret Service money. Matthews replied that no person down on the Estimates for a
salary received anything in addition to that salary.
Matthews replied that Jarvis’s salary was not included in the Estimates. Labouchere in turn insisted that it was.
He sat down after that statement, but the debate did not come to an end. Later in the day, Matthews stated that
Jarvis had not been paid one penny out of the sum allotted for special duties, nor had the sum of £1,000, or any sum
whatever, been paid to Monro. Crusty Irish member Timothy Healy would not take Matthews’s statement sitting
down.
‘I asked,’ said Healy, ‘how it was that this man Jarvis was enabled to pay this visit to Colorado, and how it was
that a certain journal in this country had a man placed at its disposition, when it was pretended that he was on his
holiday. When this man got to New York he was detached from that place by the Consul there and sent to Colorado.
It is all very well to say that this man gets nothing under this Vote, but we are entitled to complain of the system
whereby officers can be employed in this manner. What was the man doing in America? Can it be pretended that an
ordinary policeman could take a holiday in New York—a man who has only a salary of some 25s. a week? If this Vote
is the only Vote in the Estimates for this purpose, it is singular that the expenses of police officers in occult and
extraordinary duties can be screened and that the House can have no check upon them. It is an undoubted fact that
Healy emphasised that there were two grounds of complaint: that Jarvis had been detached in the service of
The Times, and that Monro had compelled Jarvis, ‘this unfortunate man’, by a threat of dismissal to bring the libel
action against Labouchere. Now that Monro was gone, Healy supposed that Jarvis would drop this action, because
he would not be very much interested in the dignity of Monro or the maintenance of the truth of his letter to The
Times. Jarvis had had to back up Monro and the Home Secretary and was compelled to make a statement to the
effect that he was never in America at all, or at all events, only in New York for a short time.
To conclude, Healy said:
‘I wonder whether the right hon. Gentleman the Home Secretary has the same idea of the truth of Mr. Monro
that he had, or whether he will receive that statement with some discount now that Mr. Monro has been compelled
to resign.’
Healy implied that Matthews had made his statement to the House on Monro’s authority, but had not probed the
matter thoroughly. He suggested that Matthews should ask Monro’s replacement [Colonel Sir Edward Bradford] to
inquire from Jarvis whether he had gone to Del Norte – in other words, ‘further West than Mr. Monro informed the
Home Secretary’. Will the Home Secretary’, asked Healy then, ‘say distinctly whether Jarvis went to America on
Scotland Yard business or for a holiday?’
Matthews began to show a certain annoyance at Healy's questioning. ‘I have over and over again stated to the
House that Jarvis did not go to Del Norte, Colorado,’ he said. ‘What is the use of asking me what fund he was paid
from?’ But Healy went on relentlessly. ‘Did he go to New York?’ he asked. ‘He was not paid out of this fund, and he
did not go to Colorado,’ reiterated Matthews. ‘I do not know why Jarvis went to Now York. I should think he went
on public business. The suggestion that he went on his holidays is a pure joke. It is as incorrect a statement as the
rest of his version of this affair.’
But Healy was undeterred by Matthews’s obvious exasperation. ‘The right hon. Gentleman has affected a very
fine anger,’ he said, ‘but I can assure him that, so far as I am concerned, I am completely indifferent to it.’ Healey
added that Matthews said he did not know what Jarvis went to New York for; but ought to know. ‘He knew the Police
Vote was coming on,’ went on Healy, ‘and ought to have known that this question would arise. It will be raised again
and again until the right hon. Gentleman finds out where Jarvis went to.’ To conclude, Healy asked Matthews
whether he would put to Monro’s successor the question addressed to himself as to the visit of Jarvis to Colorado.
At that point, Labouchere spoke against the continuation of the discussion. He recalled that Jarvis had brought
an action that was before a Court of Law. If a man brought an action he should have an opportunity of thrashing the
question out in Court and it was hardly fair to Jarvis to prejudice the case by discussing it in Parliament.
Yet Labouchere asked Matthews whether Jarvis was bringing the action with his own money, or using the taxpay-
ers’ money. Labouchere had no objection to the Government giving Jarvis money, but protested against Jarvis being
put forward in the case. He assumed that he would get a verdict and that that verdict would carry costs. ‘Well,’
concluded Labouchere, ‘I do not want the Government to give Jarvis money with which to bring an action against
me, and then when I get my costs to be told that Jarvis has no money. It is only fair that if the Government provide
Jarvis with money to bring the action, they should pay me my costs.’ Matthews reiterated that Jarvis would bring
the action at his own risk and cost.
‘LONDON, July 16.—Papers will be served on Henry Labouchere in a couple of days in a suit for $10,000 brought
against him by Inspector Jarvis of Scotland Yard. Labouchere stated in Truth that the visit of Jarvis to the United
States last year was in the interest of the London Times, and with the view of inducing Sheridan of Phoenix Park
notoriety to play the traitor to the Irish cause and return to go on the witness stand in behalf of the Times.
Labouchere has persistently refused to retract the allegation and, claiming that he has abundant evidence to prove
all he has said, proposes to fight the case in the courts. If the case comes to trial it will create a sensation in Irish
circles on both sides of the Atlantic, and bring to light some hitherto undeveloped facts concerning the methods
pursued by the Times to secure evidence, true or false, against Parnell and his associates.’
But Jarvis’s libel action was eventually settled out of court. At the eleventh hour, on 23 October 1890, the very
eve of the court case, Labouchere announced in Truth, his weekly journal, that he had ‘just ascertained beyond all
doubt’ that the whole story was, as Mr Matthews and Mr Monro had declared, absolutely false in every particular. ‘I
unreservedly withdraw my original statement and offer my apologies to Inspector Jarvis.’ he added and followed up
with a rather pathetic and wholly unconvincing explanation in a letter published in The Times on 23 December 1890:
‘. . . I heard that The Times was endeavouring to induce Sheridan to come forward as a witness before the
Royal Commission. On this I telegraphed to some friends in America, who were Home Rulers, to find out what was
doing. On receipt of my telegram they set out for Del Norte, in the vicinity of which place Sheridan was residing.
At Kansas City they received information which led them to conclude that two persons connected with the police
agency that was employed by The Times had been there, and that they had with them a third person who, from the
description given, they thought was Inspector Jarvis. This third person, they were informed, had left by train for
Del Norte . . .’
‘Jarvis brought an action against me for libel. I caused full enquiry to be made in America, and I came to the
conclusion that it was probable my American friends had been misled. I might have estopped the action by plead-
ing that there was no libel in what I had said, for the Government had employed policemen to aid The Times to
look after witnesses in England and in Ireland (vide Report of Evidence taken before the Commission) . . .
‘My solicitors, therefore, put themselves into communication with his solicitors, and I agreed to publish a retrac-
tion of my allegation, to pay his costs, and to give him £100 . . .
There is little doubt in my mind that Labouchere was manoeuvred into a retraction. The Times’s case before the
Special Commission had failed ignominiously and the British Government was in no mood for further humiliation.
What political concessions Labouchere won are unknown. We can only guess at the nature of the quid pro quo. With
the Special Commission all wrapped up, Parnell vindicated — only to be eventually destroyed by his personal indis-
6 In the foregoing press reports and Hansard transcriptions John Shore is variously described as Inspector, Chief Inspector, Superintendent
and occasionally Constable. For the record, John Shore was a Superintendent at the time of these events. He had been promoted from Chief
Inspector in 1886 at the same time as Chief Superintendent Adolphus Frederick Williamson was promoted to Chief Constable. See also
Dickens’s Dictionary of London 1888, Old House Books, Devon, 1993.
At the time nobody was under any illusions about Jarvis’s presence in Colorado. He also appears to have taken
the flak for Andrews and Shore, for no criticisms were levelled at their extracurricular activities in America and
Canada. And, since Jarvis and his superior, Superintendent Shore, were scheming together in America, the idea that
Jarvis was vindicated through some sort of internal disciplinary procedure beggars belief. In my view, this is anoth-
er instance of the smug, self-righteous Anderson at his dissembling best.
Anderson continued.
‘In due time Mr Wontner [Jarvis’s solicitor] called on me to say that, on Jarvis’s instructions, he had commenced
an action against Mr Labouchere, and that Messrs Lewis and Lewis now wished to compromise it: would I be con-
tent if the defendant paid all costs, and allowed judgment to be entered against him? “Certainly not,” I replied;
“the matter before me is the conduct of an officer of my department, and if the case is settled out of court, the
settlement must be on terms that will veto all suspicion of collusion.” The matter ended by Mr Labouchere paying
the costs, plus $100 for damages, and inserting an apology in Truth.’
‘Apart from the Le Caron disclosures I had nothing to do with the Times case.’
On this last point history would soon prove otherwise. Home Office correspondence and Anderson’s own writ-
ings suggest that he had a hand in arranging the extraditions of Roland Gideon Israel Barnett and Thomas Barton,
both of which he subsequently used for his own political agenda. A further example of Anderson’s audacity and guile
is the fact that his covert operation was not funded from the public purse. The Canadian Government paid Barnett’s
extradition expenses and the London & Northwestern Railway Company did likewise for Barton’s. Who funded Shore’s
trip is not known.
A question must be asked at this point. Why would the man in charge of the allegedly under-funded Whitechapel
murders investigation, cost-conscious Anderson, go to the trouble and expense of diverting Andrews from Montreal
to New York to hunt Jack the Ripper when a British detective was already on the spot? When Tumblety arrived in
New York on 2 December 1888, 49-year-old retired Superintendent James J Thomson and his wife Martha were
booked under the name Johnstone at the Gilsey House Hotel at Broadway and 29th Street. The Gilsey House was
described in Moses King’s Handbook of New York City, 1893, as catering for ‘very wealthy and extremely particular’
travellers.
Thomson was the private agent mentioned in the House of Commons debate on 6 June 1890. His conduit to
Anderson and The Times was William R. Hoare, the British Consul in New York who had sent Inspector Jarvis to Kansas
and Colorado. The Thomsons had been charged by Anderson on behalf of The Times to negotiate with General Francis
Millen, an Irish soldier of fortune who had been named by Monro before a Commons select committee as the head
of the ‘Jubilee Plot’ to assassinate Queen Victoria7. It was hoped that Millen would give evidence for The Times
before the Special Commission. The Times must have had deep pockets, for the Thomsons had been at the Gilsey
House, all expenses paid, since 21 November, and were still in residence in April 1889.
7 See Campbell, Christy: Fenian Fire: The British Government Plot to Assassinate Queen Victoria, Harper Collins, London, 2002.
‘ . . . amongst the suspects, and to my mind a very likely one, was a Dr. T . . . He was an American quack named
Tumblety and was at one time a frequent visitor to London and on these occasions constantly brought under the
notice of police, there being a large dossier concerning him at Scotland Yard . . . Tumblety was arrested at the time
of the murders in connection with unnatural offences and charged at Marlborough Street, remanded on bail,
jumped his bail, and got away to Boulogne. He shortly left Boulogne and was never heard of afterwards. It was
believed he committed suicide but certain it is that from this time the “Ripper” murders came to an end8.’
The letter has been used as evidence that Tumblety was a Ripper suspect. But is it? While the letter is histori-
cally important as the only mention of Tumblety by a Metropolitan Police officer in active service in 1888, Littlechild
was wrong about Tumblety’s going to Boulogne, wrong about his never being heard of again and wrong about his hav-
ing committed suicide. Could these errors be explained away by age or failing memory? This is unlikely when, twen-
ty-five years after the event, sixty-six-year-old Littlechild’s memory was perfect on the details of Tumblety’s arrest
for unnatural offences, his appearance at Marlborough Street, remand on bail and subsequent bail-jumping to
France. Why his memory failed him at this particular juncture is anyone’s guess, but in the complete absence of any
other evidence in support of Tumblety’s Ripper candidacy Littlechild’s suspicions should be treated with the utmost
caution.
Sims, for one, did not buy Littlechild’s suspect. His money stayed on Montague Druitt. Four years later, in 1917,
Sims repeated his assertion that Jack the Ripper had drowned himself. ‘His body,’ he wrote, ‘was found in the
Thames after it had been in the river for nearly a month.’
From the foregoing it is clear that Scotland Yard had no real interest in Tumblety either as a homosexual bail
8 In February 1993, Stewart P Evans bought from antiquarian dealer Eric Barton four letters addressed to George R Sims. One of them
was the Littlechild letter naming Francis Tumblety as a Ripper suspect. The story of Evans’s purchase of the letter has been told in The
Lodger: The Arrest and Escape of Jack the Ripper, Century, London, 1995, authored by Evans and Paul Gainey.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Simon'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, for in a letter to a friend
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 Susan moved to
California from Wales five years ago—not for personal protection, but to be with their daughter and grand-
daughters.
Andrew J. Spallek
At the West Sussex Record Office in Chichester there resides a large archive relating to the
extended family of Ripper suspect Montague John Druitt. This material, consisting largely of let-
ters and memorabilia, was compiled by Robert’s daughter Gertrude (Montague’s cousin) over many
years, and relates primarily to the family of Montague’s uncle, Dr Robert Druitt of Kensington.
In addition to fascinating correspondence, one can find such interesting items as fragments of dried leaves that
fell from the casket of Prince Albert Victor, and a lock of Gertrude Druitt’s hair. Both of these I have personally han-
dled, having spent two full days inspecting the archives.
The first day was spent primarily familiarizing myself with its contents. On the second day I was able to delve
more deeply into the contents. Although they do not point directly to the perpetrator of these horrendous crimes,
the items at Chichester do give valuable glimpses into the life of Scotland Yard Chief Constable Sir Melville
Macnaghten’s preferred suspect.
The only letter by Montague Druitt contained in these archives is one written to his Uncle Robert concerning the
visit of two other of his daughters, Emily and Katherine, to the Druitt home at Wimborne Minster in September 1876,
and Montague’s efforts at tutoring the girls in Latin. This letter has been published elsewhere and its contents are well
known, but it was interesting to find additional correspondence in the archives relating to this visit, showing that it
was not just the two girls who came to visit the Druitts at their home, Westfield House, but much of Robert’s family.
Combing through the archives was very fruitful in other ways. Reading through correspondence of the critical
period, I came across a letter written on 9 May 1888 by Montague’s mother, Ann Druitt, to her sister-in-law Isabella
Druitt, Robert’s widow.
Ann suffered from serious mental illness and at this time was in a downward mental spiral that would culminate
in her death in 1890 at Manor House Asylum in Chiswick. Or so we thought. The letter from Ann to Isabella is quite
cogent, indicating that Ann was by no means yet the raving lunatic she would become. Her illness had either not
progressed to that point or the nature of it may have been intermittent. An excerpt:
Thank you for your letter of yesterday. I am very glad to hear such good news of Lionel your son. I am (undeci-
pherable) very pleased he has settled down with such good prospects of success, also that he has financed(? unclear)
a (undecipherable) to take care of him(?). I am hoping to pay Georgie a visit shortly(?) the weather at present is
not very encouraging to (undecipherable) one to leave (undecipherable) it has been blowing and raining here from
(undecipherable) days & yesterday we had a regular downpour.1
1 This and all such excerpts are from the Druitt MSS at the West Sussex Record Office.
The letter goes on to discuss Queen Victoria’s visit to Berlin in April and other current events. It is by no means
the letter of a madwoman.
Perhaps the most interesting find was a letter written by Gertrude Druitt to her mother Isabella on 13 June 1887.
The letter contains an offhand remark that “Aunt William” is “to go to Linden Gardens.” “Aunt William” is clearly
Ann Druitt, the widow of Montague’s father, William Druitt. The reference to “Linden Gardens” is thought provok-
ing. Isabella Druitt lived at 8 Strathmore Gardens, Kensington. Prior to my finding this letter, the only Linden Gardens
I knew was in nearby Bayswater, a stone’s throw from Strathmore Gardens. Coincidently, this Linden Gardens is
where Assistant Scotland Yard Commissioner Sir Robert Anderson lived. I was puzzled at the thought that Ann would
stay so near Isabella’s home on a visit to London. Why would she not simply stay with her sister-in-law in their large
home at Strathmore Gardens? Then I made a startling discovery. There is also a “Linden Gardens” in Chiswick, and
it is but a few minutes’ walk from the location of the private asylum run by Thomas Tuke and his son, where Ann
Druitt’s life would end in 1890. My heart raced at this find! We had not known Ann Druitt to be in the Tukes’ care
until 1889. Now there is a strong indication that Ann may have been treated by the Tukes as early as 1887, giving
her son Montague reason to make his final Chiswick jaunt before launching himself into the Thames, his body to be
recovered at nearby Thornycroft’s Wharf on 31 December 1888.
Ann Druitt had apparently been committed to Brook House asylum in Upper Clapton, North London, earlier in
1888. However, the aforementioned 9 May 1888 letter from Ann to Isabella indicates it is written from Westfield
House, the Druitt home at Wimborne. She was released on leave from Brook House in August 1888 and was subse-
quently treated by a Dr Gasquet in Brighton, probably for her diabetes2. Where she was during the time of the
Whitechapel murders is not precisely known. The mention of Linden Gardens indicates the possibility that Ann Druitt
may have been treated by the Tukes in 1887 and could possibly even have been under their care during the period
of the Whitechapel murders.
Montague Druitt was a schoolmaster in addition to serving as a barrister. He resided at George Valentine’s school
in Blackheath, where he was on staff. In a note left behind at his Blackheath residence, Druitt lamented, “Since
Friday I felt I was going to be like mother, and the best thing for me was to die3.” Such a statement indicates that
Druitt was concerned about his own mental heath and dreaded what the future might bring. If Ann Druitt was indeed
being treated at Chiswick in December 1888, it is quite plausible that Montague embarked on a journey to take leave
of his mother in person before ending his own life. Even if Ann was not currently at Chiswick at the time of her son’s
suicide, Montague may still have had a reason for journeying there. If indeed Ann was treated at Chiswick in 1887,
3 Acton, Chiswick, and Turnham Green Gazette, January 5, 1889. It must be remembered that this in not an exact quote of the letter
nor is it certain that the letter was genuine. It was merely “produced” by Montague’s brother William Harvey Druitt at the coroner’s inquest.
My Dear Aunt,
You will be terribly grieved & shocked at the sad news I have to tell you. Our dear father passed away very sud-
denly this morning. He was quite usual and getting up when a severe heart attack came on. We were sent for &
(undecipherable) great pain which lasted about ½ an hour. He was quite conscious & told us what to do, but just
as Dr. Batterbury came into the room he turned over and passed away. He said we had done all we could have done.
We had brandy, hot (undecipherable), etc. He said it was caused by a cot of blood forming just like Aunt Jane. It is
so terribly sudden. We can hardly realize(?) it. Poor mother seems quite stunned. Arthur has fetched Willie & wrote
to Uncle(?) from Bmouth. I am not sure where you are at S?? (Strathmore?) or with him. I know how you will feel
for us all. We have indeed lost a good father6.
An interesting exchange of correspondence exists between Isabella and one Rev. Vosper Thomas, registrar at
Wimborne Minster, during the Autumn of 1888. Isabella desired to donate an altar cross to the church in memory of
her late brother-in-law, William. After a lengthy and somewhat heated exchange in which the church Board of
Governors asked for particular details on the cross which Isabella for some reason refused to give, the gift was for-
5 The second half of this return ticket dated Dec. 1 was found on Druitt’s body. There were actually three Hammersmith stations. The
one Druitt at which Druitt would have alighted is that on the Metropolitan District Railway, today’s District Line of the London Underground.
This is not to be confused with the Hammersmith & Chiswick station which was relatively near Tuke’s asylum as that station did not have
service from Charing Cross.
6 “Aunt Jane” is Jane Druitt, William’s sister who died unmarried in 1880. “Arthur” is Montague’s younger brother, Arthur Druitt. “Willie”
is older brother William Harvey Druitt. The Bournemouth uncle must be James Druitt, Sr.
mally declined in a letter dated 3 December 1888. The date is of interest as it is the date often given as the last day
Montague Druitt was seen alive7. Whether his suicide had anything to do with the rejection of the memorial to his
father is not known.
Also in the archives is an interesting letter which almost escaped my attention. Written from Cooma, Australia
on 27 February 1889 by Thomas Druitt to Isabella, it mentions the death of Montague:
We have the sad news about poor Montague. It came first from Christchurch & I saw the particulars in the Dorset
County Chronicle afterwards.
Thomas Druitt was a brother to Montague’s father, William. A clergyman, he emigrated to Australia where he
became a bishop. I almost missed this letter because the name “Montague” was written so poorly. I only caught it
because the significance of the date and the occurrence of a word beginning with an upper-case “M” drew my atten-
tion to it. This illustrates the extreme care with which the researcher must proceed while sifting any archives.
As a final note, allow me simply to say that there are other interesting “finds” in the archives. Correspondence
between Gertrude and East End stonemason Jabez Druitt links these families at the very time of the Whitechapel
murders. This is significant in that Jabez had a daughter by the name of Emily, who had indirect ties to the Earl of
Crawford. Researcher Stephen Ryder has discovered a letter from Crawford to Sir Robert Anderson regarding an
7 I tend to believe Druitt actually committed suicide the night of 1-2 December .
8 An article from the Salisbury and Winchester Journal and General Advertiser of 14 May 1887 details the burglary of Lonsdale’s Wimborne
home at a time when Rev. Charles Druitt was a house guest.
9 In his Scotland Yard memorandum, Macnaghten wrote, “from private information I have little doubt that [Druitt’s] own family believed
him to have been the murderer.”
Andrew J. Spallek has been studying the Whitechapel murders since their centenary in
1988.Originally from Chicago, he now resides in St. Louis, Missouri where he is an ordained
Lutheran pastor. He is also frequent visitor to England. Concentrating on suspect Montague Druitt
for the past three years, Spallek counts among his research accomplishments the identification
of Henry Richard Farquharson of Dorset as the Member of Parliament who in 1891 suspected
Druitt of being Jack the Ripper and now also the publication of the early Druitt photographs pub-
lished for the first time
Tuke's
Manor House
Asylum
The
Lamb
Tap
Thornycroft’s
Wharf
1908 Atlas Map of London, showing the relative positions of Thornycroft’s Wharf, Linden Gardens and Tuke’s Manor House Asylum.
The station shown here, near Tuke’s Manor House Asylum, is not the one that Druitt used as it did not have a service from Charing Cross.
Margaret Edwards Bird
Maggie Bird touched all of our lives. She was a woman full of energy, full of love and full of friendship.
A woman who was passionate about life, passionate about her interests, and passionate about her family and
friends.
Sixty years ago Maggie came into this world by herself. Sixty years later she fills this place with people and
with love.
And wouldn’t she have loved to see us all. We would have been smiled at, we would have been hugged, with-
in seconds we would have been laughing together and in my case before long she would have been stuffing food
down me because she would have known I hadn’t eaten!
That was Maggie. When you became Maggie’s friend it lasted a lifetime. And what a life it was, lived with
her own brand of joie de vivre and her infectious energy and drive.
Margaret Edwards Bird was born on 13 July 1949 in Barry in The Vale of Glamorgan, the only child of Peggy
and Emrys. Though known universally to all of us as Maggie, when in Wales it was strictly Margaret!
Maggie’s Dad’s job as a Mental Health Nurse kept them moving about and the young Maggie lived in Malvern
in Worcestershire, Farnham in Hampshire and Stockport in Cheshire. Through all of this she remained proudly
Welsh with a reoccurrence of the Welsh accent when speaking to anyone in the Home Country.
Maggie always maintained she had some Welsh magic in her, with the odd premonition to boot. She called
herself ‘The Welsh Witch’!
Apparently, some of the frostiest moments at home with John were when Wales were playing England at
Rugby — particularly if Wales won, which meant Maggie dancing around the room saying nasty things about the
English in Welsh! Indeed it was Maggie’s pronounced idea of Heaven to be stranded on a desert island with the
Pontypool Rugby Team front row!
I Beg to Report
A warrant was issued for Jenkins’s arrest on 20 August. Buena Park Police Lt Gary Worrall stated at the time that
the suspect, a native of Alberta, Canada, had apparently fled the state. It was thought that he drove 1,000 miles to
Washington state and then caught a boat to a peninsula on the border, where he walked into Canada.
The suspect was found hanged in an apparent successful suicide in a room at the Thunderbird Motel in Hope,
British Columbia, on 23 August.
Prior to his wife’s murder, Jenkins had been appearing as a contestant on the VH1 reality show ‘Megan Wants a
Millionaire,’ in which a woman tries to land a wealthy husband. A producer for the show revealed to CNN’s Larry King
that Jenkins had been a finalist in the show but any final episodes featuring Jenkins will not now air.
The voluptuous Ms Fiore recently moved to Los Angeles from Las Vegas, where the couple had married. Besides
having appeared nude in Playboy, she was recently featured in an ad for controversial ‘shock jock’ Howard Stern’s
radio show.
Jenkins reported Ms Fiore missing after he took her to a weekend poker party in San Diego. The couple report-
edly had shared a tempestuous relationship and it is thought Jenkins may have killed her after he found out that she
had been seeing an old boyfriend. California prosecutors said in a statement, ‘The victim had been badly beaten,
all of her fingers had been cut off, and all of her teeth had been forcibly removed.’
In the aftermath of Jenkins’s death, Farrah Emami, spokeswoman for the Orange County, California, district
attorney’s office, told reporters: ‘Based on the information we have, we believe that Mr. Jenkins is solely responsi-
ble for the murder of Jasmine Fiore. In light of the fact that he has been found dead, obviously the case against him
will be dismissed.’ She added, however, that the Buena Park police will continue to investigate whether anyone
assisted Jenkins in his flight from US authorities.
ISRAELI MAN ACCUSED OF KILLING AND DISMEMBERING GIRLFRIEND AND DAUGHTER. Friends of a troubled man who
is accused of killing and carving up the bodies of his girlfriend and her daughter have expressed shock at the news.
Police say Eli Fahima, 59, from Bat Yam was arrested by police in Haifa on 16 August for the alleged murder and dis-
memberment of Beatrice Rodov, 62, of Ramat Gan, and her daughter Denise, 36. Police theorise that Fahima killed
Mrs Rodov and her daughter following an argument with the mother ‘over money.’
On 12 August, Mrs Rodov’s mutilated body was discovered in a town garbage bin that had been set alight. Two
days later, a person strolling by the Alexander River north of Netanya was shocked to notice a human leg floating in
the stream. The leg belonged to Denise Rodov. Police say both corpses had been decapitated and several limbs were
missing.
Police tracked down Fahima in northern Israel by tracing the signal of a cellphone that he had stolen from the mur-
der victim’s apartment. The suspect Fahima had also
taken a car that had belonged to Mrs Rodov. Police searching the Alexander River
MORE MURDER AND MAYHEM IN ISRAEL. Israeli media were busy throughout August covering a series of bloody
murders. On 14 August, the day a second dismembered body was discovered in the Alexander River, the corpse of a
handcuffed man was found in an empty structure near Rishon Lezion. The next night, a middle-aged family man was
the victim of gang violence on a Tel Aviv beach. These incidents followed an evident hate crime two weeks earlier
when a gunman shot dead two people at a gay and lesbian centre in Tel Aviv. To date, no one has been arrested in
the shooting, which also left eleven people wounded.
Police Inspector-General David Cohen said, ‘We are looking at a series of incidents which have different circum-
stances and backgrounds. Police are working day and night in extended shifts to beef up our presence, while our
investigators are working long hours.’
The incident of gang violence left a 59-year-old man dead, and ten suspects have been arrested. The victim,
Leonard ‘Arik’ Karp, had been sitting on a bench on the beachfront promenade with his wife and 25-year-old daugh-
ter when a group of intoxicated or drugged Arab young men and women came by. After a violent altercation during
which his wife and daughter managed to escape, Mr Karp was allegedly beaten to death or drowned. (Some Israeli
reports of the incident use the word ‘lynched’ but it does not appear any actual hanging took place.) The suspects,
reportedly ranging in age from 17 to 21, are from Jaljulya, east of Hod Hasharon.
The suspects allegedly made a comment to the victim as they walked past and Mr Karp apparently made a remark
in response. The argument became violent, with the youths allegedly physically assaulting the family. Mr Karp’s wife
and daughter managed to excape to telephone the police. When they returned to the beach, Mr Karp was missing.
Some hours later, his corpse discovered near the beach.
Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu was briefed on the recent murders by Public Security Minister Yitzhak
REMINDER OF ELEPHANT MAN AUCTIONED ON EBAY. In an ebay auction sale to benefit victims of Proteus Syndrome,
the disease that caused the severe deformations to Joseph Merrick, the so-called Elephant Man, a decorative stone
from the Leicester theatre where Merrick made his first stage appearance has been sold for £122.
The online auction was set up by The Friends of Joseph Merrick to raise cash for research into the extremely rare
disfiguring disease from which he suffered. Merrick was born in 1862 in the slums of Lee Street in Leicester’s city
centre not far from the site of the Gaiety theatre in Wharf Street. He made his first appearance in a freak show at
the theatre in 1884. The Gaiety was demolished in March to make way for a new block of flats.
Housing developers Launch Padz announced in April that they would call the apartment building ‘Merrick House’
Joseph Merrick in memory of the city’s famous former resident. Parts of the
Gaiety Theatre, built in 1862 and also known as the
Hippodrome during its time as a theatre, were saved, including
120 stone roses. The developer has said these elements will be
incorporated into the housing project, which is expected to be
completed in 2011. The material is being held at the company’s
yard in Payne Street, Leicester. A commemorative plaque ded-
icated to Merrick was recently unveiled on the flats, as report-
ed here in the Rip.
Local historian Roy Townsend, age 69, said: ‘Obviously I
would have preferred the original building to still be there.’ Mr
Townsend added, ‘The house where [Merrick] was born is on
the site of what is now Lee Circle car park and there’s nothing
else around which is linked to him.’
AH, DEAR BOSS!—OR MORE ON OUR FAVORITE CASE IN THEATRICAL FORM. Here’s the blurb for this rather colour-
ful and way-out sounding Canadian stage show, the script for which is available for purchase:
A murder mystery and a romantic horror story for three actors and thirty puppets, Dear Boss is an imagined
investigation of the Ripper Murders. Charles Fort—a famous researcher of such phenomena as spontaneous combus-
tion, raining fish and frogs, ghosts and flying saucers—picks his way through the madness and mayhem of
Whitechapel in the autumn of 1888 to find answers to one of history’s most notorious riddles. Softcover, 107 pp.
$15.95.
If anybody happens to see a production or else to read the script, let us know what you think. We are depend-
ing on you so don’t let us down.
http://images.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://www.theatrebooks.com/images_d/dear_boss.jpg&imgrefurl=htt
p://www.theatrebooks.com/theatre/canadian_plays/index.html&usg=__eVfbHPlsOk_BnFEO2rzGcYvEAVQ=&h=123&
w=80&sz=5&hl=en&start=1&tbnid=puvqtJYt-fwijM:&tbnh=89&tbnw=58&prev=/images%3Fq%3Djack%2Bripper%2Bpu
ppet%2Bplay%2Bdear%2Bboss%2Beric%2Bwoolfe%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1T4GGLJ_enES281ES281
Trial at the Old Bailey as drawn by Thomas Rowlandson and Augustus Pugin for Ackermann's Microcosm of London (1808-11).
more than five shillings (equivalent to £30 today or 35
euros), theft of livestock, poaching of rabbits and cut-
ting down trees.
Included in the database are 900,000 sentences of
imprisonment and 97,000 transportations. Hanging was
bad enough but transportation could be a living hell.
Two examples of transportation are afforded by the
cases of Ferdinando Shakespeare, aged 23, and Joseph
Bloomer, aged 22, nailors, tried at Worcester Court
Assizes in March 1838. The men were indicted for
breaking into the shop of William Cox, at Cradley, in
the Parish of Halesowen and stealing bacon, cheese and
other articles. Both were sentenced to 10 years trans-
portation to Australia. See http://freepages.genealo-
gy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~shakespeare/criminal/con-
victs/ferdinando.htm.
Another grisly aspect of crime and punishment of the
day is that during the 18th century and for much of the
19th century, executions were a public spectacle. People
flocked to see hangings—the wealthy would even hire
the balconies of houses and pubs to get a better view.
Among the colorful trials in the collection are those
of ‘Jack’ suspect Dr Cream, who was sentenced to
death in 1892 for poisoning prostitutes; Isaac “Ikey”
Solomon, whom many consider to be the inspiration for A ship bound for Australia laden with convicted criminals
sentenced to transportation.
Dickens’ Fagan; and highwayman George Lyon, whose
pistol once failed when he attempted to rob a coach in the rain having allowed his gunpowder to get wet..
Ancestry.co.uk managing director, Olivier Van Calster, stated: ‘This collection will be of great use to social his-
torians as they contain a variety of in-depth information about crime and criminals in England and Wales during a
period of great poverty, change, and ultimately, reform.’
WHAT MAKES PSYCHOPATHS TICK? A veritable garish rogues gallery of criminals have fascinated us over the years:
real-life killers such as Jack the Ripper or Charlie Manson, the hippie mastermind behind the Tate-LaBianca murders
of the summer of 1969, or else fictional murderers and mutilators such as Dr Hannibal Lecter, played with creepy
relish by Anthony Hopkins in the film version of Thomas Harris’s novel Silence of the Lambs.
We all wonder if something happened in the life of an individual to produce psychopathic tendencies, or was it a
hardwired characteristic that lay dormant, awaiting an environment stimulus to explode and begin a cascade of terror?
‘The Anatomy of a Psychopath’, by Rick Nauert, PhD, Senior News Editor, psychcentral.com
Reviewed by John M. Grohol, Psy.D., 5 August 2009
http://psychcentral.com/news/2009/08/05/the-anatomy-of-a-psychopath/7559.html
WOTCHER! COCKNEY-TALKING ATMs IN THE EAST END. Just in time for next month’s London Jack the Ripper
Convention, two cash dispensing machines that will chat to you in the famous Cockney ‘rhyming slang’ have been
installed in the city’s East End. Sure to amuse—and maybe—confuse visitors from abroad if not from elsewhere in the
British Isles!
It’s your choice as the customer whether to have your prompts and options displayed in rhyming slang, or the
‘Cockney lingo’ as it were, just like in some machines you can choose a foreign language. At the least while you are
withdrawing your ‘Crosby, Stills and Nash’ [cash] you can be having fun! What would Jack the Ripper have made of
it???? Ha ha, wouldn’t you like to know?
One Cockney-talking ATM is located right in the middle of Ripper territory, on Commercial Street in Spitalfields,
by the corner of Wentworth Street and Fashion Street. The other machine is in Bow several miles further east at
Reviews
The Man Who Hunted Jack the Ripper:
Edmund Reid — Victorian Detective
Nicholas Connell and Stewart P. Evans
Stroud,Gloucestershire: Amberley Publishing, 2009
www.amberley-books.com
Softcover, 191 pages, illus; notes; biblio; index.
originally published as The Man Who Hunted Jack the Ripper: Edmund Reid and
the Police Perspective. Cambridge: Rupert Books, 2000
ISBN 978-1-84868-260-3
£14.99
This was something of an innovative book when first published, few people
having attempted to write a biography of a Victorian policeman since Belton
Cobb wrote Critical Years At The Yard back in 1956. And nobody has really taken
up the challenge since, although Nick Connell once more ventured into that field
with a biography of Walter Dew.
To be honest, though, this book isn’t really a biography of Inspector Reid at
all. Reid didn’t leave behind a lot of private papers and personal letters to be
plundered for insights into his character, personality, and motivations. So, one is
left with little more than a recounting of the details of the cases with which he
was involved, and even here we only have a handful—and those are rather rapid-
ly discussed. And even then it’s the Ripper investigation which grabs more than the lion’s share of attention.
The authors perhaps made as much use of the information available to them as they could and tell in some detail
his years of retirement in Kent when he was a genial, albeit somewhat eccentric character with a house he called a
ranch and a garden shed he called a hotel and from which he sold lemonade and postcards.
But there is so much that the book mentions with frustrating brevity. For example, Reid was an amateur balloon-
ist, described in one newspaper report as ‘the most daring balloonist of the early eighties’. In the 1870s he para-
chuted out of a balloon at a height of 1,000 feet and later he made a record ascent in the balIoon Queen of the
The Road Hill House mystery is an absorbing true crime murder mys-
tery and has been the subject of some excellent books, starting with John
Rhodes’ The Case of Constance Kent (1929), Yseult Bridges’ Saint — With
Red Hands (1954), Bernard Taylor’s Cruelly Murdered (1979), and, of
course, Kate Summerscale’s The Suspicions of Mr Wicher (2008), which
won the BBC Four Samuel Johnson Prize For Non-Fiction (which is Britain’s
biggest prize for non-fiction and worth a cool £30,000!)
Murder Most Foul hasn’t anything of the literary quality of
Summerscale’s book, which isn’t to say that Paul Chambers’ hasn’t pro-
duced a page-turner because he has, and his book is as meticulously
researched. It just lacks the literary pretence of wrapping up a factual
account as detective fiction
The Road Hill House case is an absolute classic: Francis Saville Kent,
the four-year old son of a factory inspector, was found stabbed and with
his throat cut in the privy at the family’s Georgian country house, Road
Hill House.
Scotland Yard were called in and the case was investigated by Inspector Jonathan Whicher, one of the Yard’s
first detectives, who became the model for Sgt Cuff in Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone.
Constance Kent confessed to the crime, but almost from the first her confession was doubted and numerous
problems with the sequence of events she described were raised by the various commentators. John Rhodes and
Bridges implied that the confession was concocted and that Constance was innocent; Taylor suggested that
Constance committed the murder but that the police investigation was obstructed by her father to hide his affair
with the housekeeper; and Summerscale argued that Constance did it, although suggesting that she may have had
the assistance of her brother William (as pointed out in a book way back in 1992, this was the conclusion Whicher
was strongly inclined to accept).
Paul Chambers reviews all the evidence and theories to come to his own conclusion, which is that…
Well, that would be telling!
It’s a pity that Chambers was somewhat pre-empted by the appearance of Summerscale’s book, as it is an emi-
nently intelligent and readable reassessment of one of the classic real-life ‘whodunnits’.
This engagingly written book looks at the four murders that occurred
on Britain’s railways from the inception of passenger carrying through to
the start of the 20th Century.
If one has a criticism of the book it is that more than three-quarters
is given over to the famous cases of Muller and Mapleton. It is from the
first of these that the book takes the new title bestowed upon it by
Amberley Books, Franz Muller having murdered Thomas Briggs in 1864
aboard the 9.45pm train from Fenchurch Street Station in London. It was
the first murder aboard a train, although there had been robberies and
somewhat serious assaults prior to that time.
In those days, and pretty much until the 20th Century, trains in Britain
had been divided into carriages which could hold about six people. There
were no corridors and no emergency cord to summon assistance. The mur-
der of Mr Gold therefore highlighted the growing concerns about railway safety.
The second railway murder has a particular interest because it involved Donald Sutherland Swanson, who in due
course would have overall charge of the Ripper investigation.
In 1881, on the 2.00pm express from London Bridge to Brighton, Isaac Gold was murdered by Percy Lefroy
Mapleton. A description and drawing of Mapleton was published in The Daily Telegraph, the first time this had been
done, and in due course Inspector Donald Swanson, accompanied by Inspector Jarvis and PC Hopkins, went to 32
Smith Street, Stepney, where Mapleton was calmly arrested.
The third case is particularly interesting because the murderer was never caught — or at least was never brought
to justice. In February 1897 Elizabeth Ann Camp was horribly battered to death in a second-class railway carriage,
her body being discovered when the train arrived at Waterloo Station.
Miss Camp, who was aged 27 and was a barmaid at the Good Intent Tavern in East Street, Walworth, which we believe
still exists as a pub, was returning from Hounslow, where she had visited a married sister. The police investigation, which
on the face of it seems to have been bungled, produced numerous suspects but no evidence against anyone.
The authors’ claim that Elizabeth had been terrified by the newspaper accounts of the Jack the Ripper murders,
and it is ironic that she should have been killed in what would appear to have been a similar outburst of ferocity as
the Ripper’s victims.
We do not know what the authority is for the claim that Ms Camp was terrified by stories of the Ripper, but her
murder was certainly linked with the Ripper. The magazine Judy noted in a short article in 1897 ‘a wave of hideous
crime’ which is thought to be sweeping the country, that ‘The Camp case has gone with the Whitechapel Murders,
the Great Coram Street case and numberless others, into the limbo of unsolved mysteries.’
Arthur and Mary Sellwood’s book was originally published in 1979, so perhaps back then they did not know that
the murder of Ms Camp might not have been as great a mystery as it is commonly thought. In November 1898 the
We’ve reviewed several of John Van Der Kiste’s books in the past, such as Dearest Vicky, Darling Fritz, Edward VII’s
Children, and Sons Servants and Statesmen. In tackling the subject of the thief-taker Jonathan Wild, Van Der Kiste has
moved time periods as well as publishers, going to Amberley from Sutton.
This fairly thin softcover book seems heavily overpriced at £12.99, but the meagre 90 pages is probably com-
pensated for by the somewhat small print.
Jonathan Wild set himself up as a public benefactor. In the days when such polic-
ing as existed was poor and largely ineffectual, Wild arranged to recover stolen prop-
erty and restore it to its rightful owner. He did this as a public service, any payment
he received being only a gift. Criminals who betrayed him or otherwise disobeyed his
orders or strayed onto his turf, generally did so only in ignorance or desperation, for
he had absolutely no compunction about turning them over to the authorities.
Among his associates and in some ways a criminal figure as famous as himself, if
not more so, was Jack Shepherd, who achieved considerable notoriety following his
daring escapes from Newgate prison. Shepherd was born in White’s Row, Spitalfields.
Overall, Jonathan Wilde: Conman and Cutpurse isn’t as comprehensive as Gerald
Howson’s Thief-Taker General: The Rise and Fall of Jonathan Wilde (1970), but a new
look at Wild is probably overdue and Van Der Kiste’s is as good an introduction to the
life and career of Wild and the villains with whom he associated as one is likely to
get.
For those to whom Jack the Ripper is nothing more than a crime puz-
zle to mull over from the comfort of an armchair on a winter’s evening,
the mystery of his identity is something to theorise about with friends over
a pint or to debate on an internet message board, the question of why
we’re fascinated by the murder of five or thereabouts down and out pros-
titutes over 120 years ago probably doesn’t matter a whole lot. But the
question of why certain individuals are remembered by history while oth-
ers, often more deserving, are forgotten is an interesting byway to explore.
Nearly three-quarters of a century ago John Dillinger died on the
pavement a short distance from the Biograph cinema in Chicago, gunned
down by FBI agents. Others had robbed more banks than Dillinger and had
shot more people and Dillinger may not have even been the brains of his
gang (an honour some have attributed to Harry Pierpont), yet Dillinger
was seized by popular culture and elevated above all the rest.
As Gorn says, Dillinger’s life and story has been the subject of motion
pictures, radio programmes, television dramas and documentaries; he
has been the subject of novels, short stories and poems; there are two
museums dedicated to John Dillinger and several websites, and his name
has been adopted by singers and bands like rapper Daz Dillinger and the punk band Dillinger Escape Plan.
Much the same can be said about Jack the Ripper. He, too, entered popular culture, and up to a point compar-
isons can be drawn with John Dillinger, helping to flesh out what the appeal may be.
But the real appeal of this book, of course, is the story it tells — the story of the year during which Dillinger criss-
crossed the American heartland, robbing banks, shooting people, and making daring escapes which humiliated the
fledgling FBI and its head, J. Edgar Hoover.
And that’s a story which has been told numerous times before, and will no doubt continue to be retold in the
future. Gorn is aware of those who have gone before him — John Tolland, Ellen Poulsen, Brian Burrough, Clare Bond
Potter, Dary Matera, William Helmer Rick Mattix, William Cromie, Joe Pinkston, and so on and on — but, as he points
out, each of these writers have looked at Dillinger from a particular vantage; Burrough puts Dillinger in the context
of the 1930s crime wave, Tolland attempts a psychological profile, Poulsen looks at the Dillinger gang from the point
of view of its women affiliates.
Gorn takes a slightly different approach. He tells the story of that tumultuous last year of John Dillinger’s life,
from his robbery of the New Carlisle National Bank in June 1933, one month after his release from the Indiana State
Penitentiary, to July 1934 when he was shot and killed, but, as Gorn puts it in the preface, ‘I seek to explain how
the Dillinger story was created, interpreted, and reworked, how Americans felt about his exploits, and how we have
come to remember him.’
Gorn succeeds admirably and Dillinger’s Wild Ride is compulsive reading from the first page, even though the
story has been told many times already. This book was unashamedly published to coincide with the release of the
movie Public Enemies (reviewed in Ripperologist last month), but as one would imagine coming from Oxford
University Press, this isn’t the typical bandwagon jumper we’re accustomed to find accompanying centenaries or
anniversaries or movie releases.
I would have to say Perjury: the Hiss-Chambers Case by Alan Weinstein. For whatever rea-
son, I find myself re-reading it every year—the pages are quite dog-eared. A close second,
though, would be David Hackett Fischer’s Paul Revere’s Ride, a masterly—and gripping—
examination of the events at Lexington and Concord in April 1775. And, full disclosure and
all that, I knew Fischer when I was in Boston and read one of his earlier books in manuscript.
Oh dear, why not make it easy and ask for my favorite food? Still, I would give the honors
to The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. A grand evocation of the American Dream, a cau-
tionary tale about love in all its bittersweet glory and the last few lines will be forever in Reading has not gotten any
easier for Don.
my memory: “Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year
recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster,
stretch out our arms farther . . . And one fine morning — So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back cease-
lessly into the past.” [Ellipses in original.]
I suppose, since I’m not sworn and under threat of perjury, I shouldn’t say myself (that’s a joke—I think). Trouble is,
I generally get hooked on one author after another. Still, for a lifetime of enjoyment I would have to say Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle and his grand gift to the world, Sherlock Holmes. Among modern
authors, my favorite of the moment is Ian Rankin, creator of the Edinburgh police
stories about John Rebus.
The Complete Jack the Ripper by Donald Rumbelow. I was a graduate history
student at the time and while I’d read magazine articles and references else-
where to the Ripper, Rumbelow made me realize that the historical method
could be applied to the Ripper crimes. This was important because I soon
moved on to Farson, McCormick and Cullen. On a sad note, I once lent those
three books to an erstwhile affection and she threw the books away because
they were “too scary.” [See comment above on The Great Gatsby.}
There are three or four of particular merit, but I think I would go with
The Jack the Ripper A to Z by Begg, Fido and Skinner. It sits by my com-
puter and whenever a question comes up I reach for it first. As a result,
my paperback copy is quite in tatters and most of the photo pages
gone. By now it is dated, which is why I look forward eagerly to the
new edition, but until then it still remains the court of first resort.
Murder in Spokane by Mark Fuhrman, which details the hunt for a serial killer of pros-
titutes in the late 1990s. I originally grabbed it because my sister and family are in
the process of moving to Spokane. As it is, though, Fuhrman makes many cogent
comments about serial- killer investigations. Moreover, the Met and City forces are
seen to have been more enlightened in 1888 than their Spokane counterparts 110
years later.
What book, any category, do you find yourself coming back to?
Without a doubt the Rev. E. Cobham Brewer’s A Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. It is great bedtime
reading. Do a few pages a night and, like me, by the time you finish you will be ready to start over. It is just chock
full of interesting facts and observations. Just be sure to get Brewer’s original and not the updated version that pur-
ports to be more accurate but is altogether less charming.
Yes, and one was The Deerslayer by James Fenimore Cooper, who evidently thrilled several generations of 19th
Century youngsters but left me bitterly disappointed after just three chapters. One book I did finish, as it was a bit
of an obligation to a friend in high school, but which I continue to look upon with
utter disdain is the incredibly over-hyped Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger.
Obviously, its appeal has been to self-indulgent, self-absorbed dilettantes who
never knew the true angst of teenage alienation.
“Yes,” says Don with a big grin, “it was The Crooked Arrow by Franklin W.
Dixon.” The book was one of the Hardy Boys adventures and was an eighth
birthday party present from Avery Hunt, perhaps my first “girlfriend” (what
ever happened to her?) Anyway, while I really can’t ever remember not read-
ing, until then it was always a means to an end. That is, either newspaper
sports pages, books on playing sports, ones about birds (I was quite the
youthful birder) or just how to do anything. But the Hardy Boys (and all the
other series books from Henty and Frank Merriwell to the near-present)
taught me reading was also wonderful fun and a great escape.
The Book
The Lodger: The Arrest and Escape of Jack the Ripper
(US title Jack the Ripper: First American Serial Killer)
by Stewart P. Evans and Paul Gainey
Century: London (1995) (forward by Nick Warren)
Cast back your mind to 1995 when the Maybrick Diary was still gain-
ing much of the attention in Ripper World. The Diary dominated so much
so that authors Evans and Gainey were as good as forced to state in their
introduction that “much of our research has been overshadowed by the
undoubtedly forged Diary of Jack the Ripper,...the whole Maybrick
debate has done no favours to serious Ripper researchers.”
Their book, however, revealed a new suspect based on new documen-
tary evidence. There might have been a collective intake of breath among
Ripperologists at the revelations, but the book turned out to be thorough-
ly researched and based on a document that has now been verified as
authentic. This book is important because it was the first to put forth ‘Dr’
Francis Tumblety both as a potential Jack the Ripper and as a contempo-
rary police suspect. It did so by publishing and analysing a letter written by
a Scotland Yard detective to a journalist. Not bad for a first-time book.
Stewart P Evans, known as a collector of true-crime books and associat-
ed items, was approached—via Camille Wolf—by dealer Eric Barton with an
item that he thought would be of interest. Barton’s instinct proved to be correct when this find turned out to be a let-
ter casting light on a contemporary police suspect whose name was little known in modern Ripperology until this point.
This document came from the collection of George R. Sims, a journalist, and had long been in Barton’s possession.
On receiving the letter, which he had purchased for his collection, Evans was astounded by its contents and imme-
diately saw that it was a major new piece of information. As Evans later explained:
On receipt of the letter I immediately recognised the name J.G. Littlechild as the ex-head of Scotland Yard’s
Special Branch, 1883-1893, and was amazed to see that he named a police suspect I had never heard of and that he
named the journalists who Scotland Yard’s senior officers believed were responsible for the original ‘Jack the
Ripper’ correspondence. I also realised that it was significant that Littlechild had not heard of a ‘Dr D’ (undoubt-
edly Druitt) in connection with the Whitechapel murders and that he stated that ‘Anderson only “thought he knew”
the identity of the Ripper1.
Casebook: Jack the Ripper states that the ‘discovery of Tumbelty as a suspect may be the
single greatest Ripper discovery of the 1990s’2.
Casebook also states that ‘The news of this new suspect was indeed one of the most cel-
ebrated discoveries of the past decade, and many top-named researchers admit that
Tumblety’s case is one of the most persuasive to have emerged in recent years3‘.
Tumblety researcher Timothy Riordan stated:
Until the publication of the Littlechild letter by Stewart P. Evans and Paul Gainey, Dr
Francis Tumbelty was almost completely forgotten by modern readers and historians.
Throughout most of the 20th century, he shows up occasionally as an obscure footnote to the
Lincoln assassination or as the subject of an article on early abortion prosecutions4.
It is fair to say that this book has suffered as a consequence of a lot of new informa-
tion coming to light since it was written, most notably by Wolf Vanderlinden and
Ripperologist contributors Carman Cumming, Scott Nelson and Timothy Riordan, much of
which has shaken the pillars on which the book’s central thesis is based. But The Lodger
made public the Littlechild letter, which in turn gave us Francis Tumblety as a suspect
and Thomas Bulling as the possible author of the “Dear Boss” letter. The book also
drew attention to hitherto largely ignored stories such as the Batty Street lodger. And
irrespective of Tumblety’s merits as a suspect, it introduced us to an extraordinary
and eccentric character whose life and activities spanned the second half of the 19th
century and who will soon be the subject of his own biography by Timothy Riordan.
It falls to few books in our field to have inspired so much. Little wonder that The
Lodger is considered a classic!
Ripperologist 57 and 63, just a couple
of the issues carrying updates on
Francis Tumblety.
Subsequent editions
July 1996 as Jack the Ripper: First American Serial Killer by Arrows
Books, London — UK paperback edition.
October 1996 as Jack the Ripper: First American Serial Killer by
Kodansha New York — hardback edition.
December 1998 as Jack the Ripper: First American Serial Killer
by Kodansha New York — US paperback edition.
A documentary was also filmed to accompany the book and
broadcast on Channel Four in the UK in 1996.
Author biography
Paul Gainey is a journalist hailing from the outskirts of Bristol. He began his career by working as a journalist
for regional papers. He joined the Suffolk Police Force in 1991 as a Press Officer. It was there that he met Evans and
agreed to help him write and research this book. This is Gainey’s only Ripper release.
Trivia5
t Originally it was planned that Martin Fido would be the co-author but this fell through.
t At the time (1995) the advance paid by the publisher for The Lodger was the largest advance ever paid for a
Ripper book.
t Stewart Evans was still a serving police officer when he wrote the book (whilst Gainey was a member of the
Constabulary as its Press Officer) and the authors had to obtain the Chief Constable’s permission to write the book.
t The book received huge publicity and the authors appeared on British and U.S. national television as well as in
all the leading newspapers.
t Johnny Depp bought a copy of the book in Murder One in Charing Cross Road in 1995.
t It sold 15,500 copies in first edition hardback, 15,000 copies in paperback in Britain as well as being published
in the U.S.A. in hardback and paperback by Kodansha.
t Many years ago Paul Gainey returned to his native Bristol area to live and work but took part in ‘The Trial of
Jack the Ripper’ TV programme.
There are murder cases which are remembered throughout the generations, some because they remain unsolved,
some because they are particularly gruesome, and others because they involved people who were already famous
for other reasons.