William Henry Hurlbert

[lynn cates]

Hall

Hello All. Found a Daguerreotype of Hurlbert's friend Hall. Link below.

Cheers.
LC

http://www.picturehistory.com/product/id/15987

[lynn cates]

Hall at trial

Hello All. Here is a snippet about Oakey Hall and is involvement in a suit. You'll recognise Labouchere's name.

Anyone know the incident?

("Anglo-American Times", June 12, 1885.)

Cheers.
LC

[TradeName]

Davitt Reviews Le Caron

The Speaker, Volume 6, November 5, 1892, Pages 549-551

LE CARON'S (REPUBLISHED) STORY
by Michael Davitt

[lynn cates]

information, please

Hello Trade. Thanks for posting this. I have long been intrigued by the London Bridge episode. I found out that the Lomasney family have a web site. I made contact with them but they had no information about Fleming.

Of course, if anyone REALLY knew about all this it was Michael Davitt. He stood to the Irish Nationalists as Burtsev did to the Anarchists--an information specialist.

I still am keen on Davitt's mid-October meeting with Sir Ed Jenkinson in Paris. Wish I knew what information was exchanged then and later between Davitt and John P. Hayes.

Cheers.
LC

[TradeName]

I'm curious about allegations that Jim McDermott coached Lynch (aka Norman), the witness in the Gallagher case.

The Clan-Na-Gael and the Murder of Dr. Cronin (San Francisco, G. P. Woodward, 1889), Pages 72-75
edited by John T. McEnnis

This chapter of the book is apparently a version of an article that originally appeared in the Chicago Tribune.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume XXIV, Issue 8498, 19 October 1889, Page 6

THE LONDON DETECTIVES

[lynn cates]

story

Hello Trade. Thanks for posting this.

Is there an issue number/date for the "Chicago Tribune" story?

Cheers.
LC

[TradeName]

You can search the Chicago Tribune for that periods at Google news (have to pay to view articles), but I can't get any hits for that particular article.

It appeared in the LA Herald for August 18, 1889, page 5, so I'd guess around that time. I don't know if it's possible if the Tribune sent it out without printing it itself.

[lynn cates]

check

Hello Trade. Thanks. I'll check to see if my archive gives me access.

Cheers.
LC

[Observer]

You know, as I trawl through this thread the two posters who predominate (Tradename, and Lynn Cates) seem to blend into one ! Two very diligent contributors though ! (heh-heh)

Go to it lads !

Observer

[lynn cates]

Hall

Hello All. My book on Abraham Oakey Hall has now arrived. He was Mayor of New York City from 1869-72.

He later went to London in the late 1880's. He was Hurlbert's closest friend.

Cheers.
LC

[TradeName]

Betty Paschal, the future Mrs T. P. O'Connor, worked for Hurlbert at the World. Here are a friendly portrait of Hurlbert and a JtR anecdote from her memoir:

I Myself (New York:Putman's, 1914), Pages 109-110
by Elizabeth Paschal O'Connor ("Mrs. T. P. O'Connor")

About this time A. M. Palmer produced the "Parisian Romance" with Richard Mansfield as Baron Chevrial. And he at once made himself and the play famous. After all the critics had written about the play I sent an article to "The New York World." Mr Hurlbert, who was then the editor, published it, and luckily it aroused a little controversy, and later on I received a short note from the editor saying that he would like to see me——and then I went on “The World " at a weekly wage as an ordinary reporter. And the work! Mr Hurlbert never considered me any more than if I had been a strong young man. I was sent at any time, day or night, to this, that, and the other person for interviews. I wrote a long series of articles called “ Curious Occupations," which necessitated my seeing half the crooks of New York. And I climbed up factory stairs, went over laundries, hospitals, shops, and manufactories of all kinds, and wrote and wrote about working women and every sort of subject until I had writer's cramp—and I have never entirely escaped from it since.

At the same time I had much for which to thank Mr Hurlbert. He was one of the people who should have been a teacher. His father was, I believe, a professor of sorts in the South. Mr Hurlbert himself had a lucid power of explanation and a quick critical faculty which was unsurpassed. He was a hard master, but a most profitable and inspiring one. He would cast his eye down a column of copy, take a blue pencil and run ruthlessly through two-thirds of it, and say, “This is all nonsense. Now I'll give you the names of a dozen books to read so that you will see why." And quick as lightning he jotted down the names of the books, and off I went to a library to get them. Now this was most kind, as he was a busy man and a most selfish one, but while I worked under him I felt my mind open exactly as if it had been a bud blossoming into flower, so helpful and so stimulating was his influence. He was at once a ruthless critic and also an encouraging, inspiring one. And he was always optimistic and illuminating, and I never knew anyone who possessed such a fund of knowledge upon every conceivable subject. He was a living, enthusiastic, joyous, intensely interesting encyclopaedia. I remember one dazzling evening hearing him give a complete history of Peru, so romantic and entrancingly interesting that a publisher present, with a pencil and half sheet of paper drew up then and there a contract for a book. And from Peru he transported us to Mexico, and opened up mines of gold and silver, and finally the evening closed with half a dozen ghost stories that were magnificently tense and thrilling. As a conversationalist Mr Hurlbert was unsurpassed, as a writer he should have left an immortal name. He was unhappily indifferent, unmethodical, and lacked concentration of purpose, but he possessed both brilliancy and genius.


Pages 213-214

One night in particular I remember. T. P. was speaking in Scotland, where I was to join him the next day, and I was alone on my floor, the servants all up above, when, about half-past two or three o'clock in the morning, I felt the quiver and grind of machinery. I looked at my clock, and was petrified with terror. It [The Star] was an evening paper--the machines never began before the moming—what could have happened? Had the Queen died? I jumped out of bed, threw on my dressing-gown, and rarr barefooted into the hall.

The night-watchman met me, his lantern swinging in his hand, followed by Max [a dog].

“What, oh, what has happened?" I gasped out.

"Jack the Ripper," he said, “has murdered two women to-night—not so far away from here either—and we are getting to press as early as anybody."

“Two!" I said. “Horrible ! How did he manage that?"

He told me as much as he knew, and I took Max in my room to guard me, and waited for the daylight.

What an impenetrable mystery Jack the Ripper was! The wretch evidently had a sardonic sense of humour, for he used to write to the papers to say a murder would be committed the next night, and sign his letters “ The Ripper"—and sure enough the murder, in spite of all vigilance, would take place neatly and deftly ; and, notwithstanding his grimly humorous letter of waming, no trace would be found. All sorts of theories were advanced, but there was absolutely nothing in any of them.

One night Mr Parnell came to see Mr Labouchere. He was wearing a long rough overcoat with the collar well above his ears, a slouch hat well down over his eyes, and he carried a black bag just the size for instruments. Mr Labouchere accompanied him to the door and said, “Shall I call a cab for you?"

“No," Mr Parnell said, “I will walk."

“Where," said Mr Labouchere, “do you live?"

“Over there," said Mr Parnell, sweeping his arm toward the darkness of the night into which he disappeared.

Mr Labouchere returned to his library and a group of friends, and laughing, said, “I do believe that I've just parted with ‘Jack the Ripper'—anyhow Parnell is the only man who answers to the description."

[lynn cates]

Jack?

Hello Trade. Lovely find.

The discussion of Jack the Ripper leaves me a bit puzzled. If she were reacting to the news that two women were killed, from whence was the name? Perhaps she conflated items after so long?

Cheers.
LC

[TradeName]

I don't think Mrs. T. P.'s recollections of the JtR letter are accurate either, so I'd assume some confusion in her memories.

[lynn cates]

logical

Hello Trade. Thanks. That's the logical explanation.

Cheers.
LC

[Phil Carter]

I Myself (New York:Putman's, 1914), Pages 109-110
by Elizabeth Paschal O'Connor


Pages 213-214


The night-watchman met me, his lantern swinging in his hand, followed by Max [a dog].

“What, oh, what has happened?" I gasped out.

"Jack the Ripper," he said, “has murdered two women to-night—not so far away from here either—and we are getting to press as early as anybody."

“Two!" I said. “Horrible ! How did he manage that?"

He told me as much as he knew, and I took Max in my room to guard me, and waited for the daylight.

What an impenetrable mystery Jack the Ripper was! The wretch evidently had a sardonic sense of humour, for he used to write to the papers to say a murder would be committed the next night, and sign his letters “ The Ripper"—and sure enough the murder, in spite of all vigilance, would take place neatly and deftly ; and, notwithstanding his grimly humorous letter of waming, no trace would be found. All sorts of theories were advanced, but there was absolutely nothing in any of them.

One night Mr Parnell came to see Mr Labouchere. He was wearing a long rough overcoat with the collar well above his ears, a slouch hat well down over his eyes, and he carried a black bag just the size for instruments. Mr Labouchere accompanied him to the door and said, “Shall I call a cab for you?"

“No," Mr Parnell said, “I will walk."

“Where," said Mr Labouchere, “do you live?"

“Over there," said Mr Parnell, sweeping his arm toward the darkness of the night into which he disappeared.

Mr Labouchere returned to his library and a group of friends, and laughing, said, “I do believe that I've just parted with ‘Jack the Ripper'—anyhow Parnell is the only man who answers to the description."

(my emphasis in bold)

Hello TradeName, Lynn,

Yet ANOTHER example appears, this time from 1914, telling us that there were loads of theories and no truth to any of them.
When oh when will the hint be taken... Goodbye Druitt, Kosminski and Le Grand etc etc.

Too many people have said that the theories were rubbish. How many does it take to be believed?

To me Edmund Reid, as this lady et al, may well have been pertfectly correct.

best wishes

Phil