Large Fierce Mammal

Springheel Jack by Saint John

The thing called Springheel Jack plagued Great Britain from 1837 to 1920. To this day, urban legend born of widespread public hysteria in the day of the “penny dreadful” will no doubt forever cloud the truth, but there is no arguing that something corporeal was molesting the populace.

The earliest recorded sighting of Springheel Jack was in London in September 1837. A man returning home late at night reported that a ghastly figure vaulted effortlessly over the ten foot wall of a cemetery and landed in his path. He described it as having pointed ears, large glowing eyes, and a large pointed nose. The man was apparently left unmolested, but a short time later on the same night, the same thing, or one just like it, attacked a group consisting of three women and one man, catching one woman – Polly Adams – while the others fled. Polly should have chosen her friends more carefully.

In the short time it had possession of her, Springheel Jack tore off her blouse, grabbed her breasts, and clawed repeatedly at her abdomen. The point of the attack is unclear because Polly was found, bleeding and unconscious, by a policeman walking his beat. It’s possible his presence interrupted the attack but later, similar events point to the ripping and tearing actually being the point of Springheel Jack’s MO.

The next reported incident occurred the following month when what appeared to be a man sprang out of an alley and grabbed Mary Stevens who was a servant returning from an errand for her employer. Before her screams resulted in the sounds of people coming to her aid and her assailant fled the scene, Ms. Stevens reported he wrapped his arms around her, kissed her face, and then ran his hands down her blouse. Her rescuers searched the area but the mysterious pervert was not found. There is no report in this case that the attacker behaved in any way that would indicate he was anything more than a sexual deviant bent on whatever level of sexual assault floated his boat so, lacking further evidence, I chalk this one up as a red herring, or at most, a copycat.

The next day, however, the real deal returned, leaping in front of a carriage causing the horses to veer so suddenly that a crash resulted. Witnesses reported that the perpetrator left the scene by leaping effortlessly over a nine foot wall. interestingly, this event occurred near the home of Mary Stevens.

A short time later, Springheel Jack attacked a woman near Clapham Church and, for the first time, left physical evidence of his presence – a pair of footprints that were three inches deep.

The public outcry built as news and rumour of further attacks spread, leading to Sir John Cowan, Lord Mayor of London, officially declaring Springheel Jack a public menace in January of 1838. A posse was formed – what we today would call a task force – that included the then 70 year old Duke of Wellington, charged with the mission of catching Springheel Jack. Not only did they fail to catch him, the number, nature, and severity of his attacks intensified.

At approximately 8:30 PM on 20 February 1838, 18 year old Lucy Scales and her sister Margaret were walking in the Limehouse area when Springheel Jack leapt in front of Lucy, spat what was described as “blue fire” in her face, and then escaped by jumping directly from the ground onto the roof of a house before disappearing from sight. The written report states that Lucy Scales was “blinded” by the attack, but it isn’t known if the reference is to blindness that was temporary or permanent.

Two days later, there was a knock at the door of a house on Bearhind Lane in the district of Bow. The knock was answered by yet another 18 year old female – Jane Alsop – who opened the door to find the figure of a black cloaked man in the gloom who said, “I’m a policeman. For God’s sake, bring me a light,  for we have caught Springheel Jack in the lane!”

Unquestioning, Lucy went to fetch a candle. When she returned, and attempted to pass the light to the alleged policeman, he grabbed the hair at the back of her head and spat what she described as a blue and white “gas” into her face. She attempted to flee back into the house but his grasp on her hair was too tight. Fortunately, Lucy shared the house with her father and two sisters, and it was one her siblings who came to her aid, attracted by the racket. By all indications, Springheel Jack lacked the stomach for dealing with complications, and he let go as soon as Lucy’s sister started pulling her back into the house. The door was slammed and locked whereupon Springheel Jack persisted in knocking for some time before suddenly leaving.

His departure was observed by several witnesses who reported seeing him drop his cloak in a nearby field only to have it carried off by someone else. Police believed that this pointed to the presence of an accomplice, but another clear possibility is that the second person was simply an opportunistic member of the indigent that abounded in the cities of Victorian England, who happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Jane Alsop’s statement to police says, in part, “He wore a large helmet and a sort of tight-fitting costume that felt like oilskin. But the cape was just like the ones worn by the policemen. His hands were as cold as ice and like powerful claws. But the most frightening thing about him was his eyes. They shone like balls of fire.”

The following night, a similar incident played out on Turner Street at the home of a man named Ashworth. A knock at the door was answered by a servant boy who opened the door to find a cloaked figure that asked to speak with his master. As the boy was turning away to comply with the visitor’s request, he reported noticing something out the corner of his eye that caused him to look back suddenly. It was then he noticed the visitor had orange glowing eyes and clawed hands resembling talons.

The servant’s reaction of horror apparently swayed Springheel Jack from his plan because he shook his fist at the boy, leapt into the street, and then completely over a nearby house. On this occasion however, yet another bit of evidence was collected by way of the young lad involved being fast of eye and quick of uptake. He told police that the stranger had a gold, embroidered letter “W” on his shirt that was visible when his cloak opened. He said it resembled something from a coat of arms. Great – another crazed nobleman.

Henry Beresford, the 3rd Marquis of Waterford, dressed in Eglinton armour, in a portrait done in 1840 by Robert Thorburn

The report of the monogram led police to suspect an Irishman; Henry Beresford, Third Marquis of Waterford, a man known for his twisted sense of humour and to whom we owe thanks for being one of the originators of the term “painting the town red”. Police had been working for some time on the theory that Springheel Jack was a man equipped with some heretofore unknown spring mechanism in his boots – just the thing a man with the means that were at the disposal of the good Marquis could devise. Just one thing – the Marquis of Waterford died in 1859 after being thrown by a horse, and it soon after became clear that Springheel Jack was still in business.

Appearances continued to be reported sporadically for many years, and point to a movement into western England. In August of 1877, Springheel Jack strode out of the night ignoring the challenge of a sentry at Aldershot Barracks, gave him a bitch slapping, and then departed by means of a sequence of “… astonishing bounds”. Shots were fired but without effect, although some sources claim that sentries at the time were not issued live ammunition but blanks instead. In the end, sentries were definitely issued live ammunition and ordered to shoot the “night terror” on sight. Interestingly, after that order was issued, the appearances stopped. In  his memoirs published in 1922, Lord Ernest Hamilton expresses the belief that the entire Aldershot episode was a prank perpetrated by a fellow officer – a Lieutenant Alfrey.

Springheel Jack seems to have slowly lost interest and has never been caught or identified. Theories abound, made all the more bizarre by people who insist on confining their thinking to the supernatural. While I feel no compulsion or duty to explain everything, my own thoughts tend toward doubting the veracity of eye witness testimony, by which many an innocent has suffered. That being said, should I happen upon an interesting mechanism in an antique shop some day ….