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Kansas Physician Confirms Howard Report

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  • I've read every single post on this thread and I still don't understand any of it.


    • Originally posted by TradeName View Post
      Thanks, Jeff.

      Here's a book on stage make-up by C. H. Fox that is a combination of a handbook and a catalogue. It is illustrated with portraits and caricatures of actors in the make-up the author created for them. Some of the material may be considered offensive today.

      The Art of Making-up for Public and Private Theatricals (London: C. H. Fox, 1887), link
      by Charles Henry Fox

      Page 116

      Disguises for Detective Business

      An article about Fox that mentions his unhappy end.

      Stories from the Collections: the curious case of costumier C.H. Fox, link

      9th December 2015

      By Emma Skinner

      A version of one of the newspaper articles mentioned above can ne found on Casebook.

      Bucks County Gazette
      Bristol, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.
      24 July 1890, link


      Mr. Charles H. Fox, the celebrated wigmaker of Covent garden, has recently explained that he is constantly in the habit of disguising persons for purposes quite unknown to him. Being of opinion that a few more details about his "unholy art" would not be without interest, we dispatched a representative to see Mr. Fox, who went to business at once:


      "During the Jack the Ripper scare I must have had hundreds of customers. At last it got such a big thing, and I took such an interest in the affair, I sent across to Bow Street, and several of my customers were shadowed. One was followed to Mentone and another to New York. They all professed to be amateur detectives, but I fancy some were anything but that, and I even dare to say that the gentleman himself may have passed through my hands more than once. It is quite a common thing for large publicans, who own a number of houses, to disguise themselves and visit their various places to watch and see if there is any shady business going on with their responsible representatives, but I think the majority of my customers are jealous husbands who think it necessary to keep a sharp eye on their wives."
      It is interesting to sometimes discover what occurred to various people who are shown in a source. Three (at least) of the performers had sad ends that I know of. William Terriss, who had started with Sir Henry Irving, had developed a following with his public in heroic melodramas, and branched out into actor-managing on his own at the Adelphi Theatre on London's West End. In plays like the Sir Walter Scott-based "Peveril of the Peak", he packed them into his theatre. He became known as "Adelphi Terriss". But in 1897, he was stabbed to death by a mad, deranged and jealous actor named Richard Archer Prince, at the stage door of his theatre. The theatre and that entrance are still there - there have been reports of his ghost being seen around there. Prince was tried for the murder, but found guilty but insane and sent to Broadmoor (Sir Henry Irving, rather disgustedly, said this would occur because Terriss was an actor, not from another profession).

      Ironically, had he lived, Terriss would have been working on a new property of more lasting value than what he performed in. He was approached by George Bernard Shaw for a play, "The Devil's Disciple" to pioneer the role of "Dick Dudgeon" the hero in the ironic comedy. Because of his death, Shaw ended up working with Richard Mansfield - of "Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde" fame - instead .

      Two others who met sad ends (around the same time as Terriss, but in another part of the globe, were the acting couple of Arthur Dacre (originally Arthur James) and his wife Amy Roselle, who had also worked with Irving. Dacre was a serious actor, but his style was an acquired taste, and he was not too successful in the British Isles. He and Roselle took an acting troop to Australia, and tried their luck there. But it did not turn, and after the failure of a theatrical benefit for them in Sydney in 1896, Dacre and Roselle were facing poverty. He shot her and cut his throat.

      Last edited by Mayerling; 07-20-2017, 03:11 AM.


      • Thanks, Jeff.

        Sorry, Scott. This thread does lack any sort of unifying thesis.

        Here's a version of a column by Joseph Hatton which mentions the Cutbush story and then goes on the summarize the Howard/Lees story. Hatton knew Dr. Benjamin Howard.

        The Maitland Daily Mercury (NSW : 1894 - 1939), Wed 2 Oct 1895, Page 4

        Jack the Ripper.

        In "Cigarette Papers" contributed by Joseph
        Hatton to the Newcastle Weekly Chronicle,
        appears the following strange story:—-

        Not long ago there appeared, I think it was
        in the "Sun," a terribly realistic description
        of a criminal lunatic is [sic] confinement. The
        man had degenerated into an inarticulate
        beast. He was said to be the fiend known
        as "Jack the Ripper." The article attracted
        no particular attention. It wanted, I suppose
        the authority of a leading morning paper to
        make any serious impression. In the "Sun"
        I fancy, it appeared as a fanciful narrative
        from the pen of a clever novelist. It may
        have been true, nevertheless, and colour
        is given to it by a statement which has
        recently been made in San Francisco by Dr.
        Howard, an Anglo-American physician not
        unknown in London, and who is, I believe, a
        member of the Royal College of Surgeons. I
        knew Dr. Howard very well at one time, and
        always regarded him as a man of intellectual
        power. He has been telling the Bohemian
        Club of San Francisco a remarkable
        story, no other than the true and particular
        account of the capture and confinement of
        "Jack the Ripper," who turned, out to be
        a well-known London Physician, now supposed
        to be dead, who, indeed, for the sake
        of the profession and for other reasons
        was wiped out by a mock death and
        burial but who at the present time is under
        restriction as a dangerous lunatic. It was,
        according to Dr Howard, one Robert James
        Lees, a philanthropist and advanced labour
        leader and a friend of Mr. Keir Hardie, who
        through his extraordinary clairvoyant powers
        led, the London detectives to the home of the
        murderer. Mr. Lees is mentioned as still
        residing at 26 The Gardens, Peckham Rye.
        At present he is the leader of "the Christian
        spiritualists in Great Britian." A commission
        de lunatico inquirendo established the facts
        against the criminal who confessed to mental
        aberrations during which he lived some other
        life and awoke to find himself in strange places
        under strange circumstances. Dr. Howard
        declares that he was a member of the
        commission that sent "Jack the Ripper" to an
        asylum for the rest of his days. It is said
        that he wili have to answer for the breach of
        a vow which he made in common with his
        colleagues never to reveal what had passed.
        The story is told with remarkable
        circumstantiality and a newspaper publishes a
        portrait of Mr. Lees, who might well be
        interviewed on tho subject. If the narrative with
        which he is credited is true it is one of the
        most striking of hypnotic revelations.



        • An Australian newspaper in 1898 serialized a detective novel by Sir Gilbert Edward Campbell which had originally appeared in Beeton's Christmas Annual for 1888. (Doyle's A Study in Scarlet appeared in the 1887 edition.) Campbell was a defendant in the literary fraud trial of 1892. One of his co-conspirators, "Dr." Charles Monatgue Clarke, had been reported to Scotland Yard in 1888 as a person who matched Hutchinson's description of a man he had seen with Mary Kelly.

          The Publishers' Circular, November 1, 1888, Page 1374

          Beeton's Christmas Annual 1888

          The Mystery of Mandeville Square

          by Sir Gilbert Campbell, Bart.

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 29 April 1898, Page 4

          Chapter I. Opposing Elements

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 3 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter I. (Continued)
          Chapter II. At the Hilarity Theater

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 6 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter II. (Continued)
          Chapter III, Cutting the Cards

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 10 May 1898. Page 4

          Chapter III. (Continued)
          Chapter IV. Waiting for the News
          Chapter V. Where Mr. Marlow Was

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 13 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter V. (Continued)
          Chapter VI. The Dawn of Suspicion

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 17 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter VI. (Continued)
          Chapter VII. At the Inquest

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 20 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter VII. (Continued)
          Chapter VIII. Medical Advice

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 24 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter VIII. (Continued)

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 27 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter IX. The "Running Footman."
          Chapter X. A Sharp and a Flat

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 31 May 1898, Page 4

          Chapter X. (Continued)
          Chapter XI. A Munificent Proposal

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 3 June 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XI. (Continued)

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 7 June 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XI. (Continued)
          Chapter XII. The Vanishing Lady

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 10 June 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XII. (Continued)
          Chapter XIII. The Snare of the Fowler

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 14 June 1898. Page 4

          Chapter XIII. (Continued)
          Chapter XIV. The Bird is Trapped

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 17 June 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XIV. (Continued)

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954) Tuesday 21 June 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XIV. (Continued)
          Chapter XV. Throwing Down the Gauntlet

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 24 June 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XV. (Continued)

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 28 June 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XVI. A Striking Situation

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 1 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XVI. (Continued)
          Chapter XVII. The Last of the Plantagenets

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954). Tuesday 5 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XVII. (Continued)
          Chapter XVIII. An Unexpected Clue, link

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 8 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XVIII. (Continued)
          Chapter XIX. King Richard's Discovery

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 12 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XIX. King Richard's Discovery

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 15 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XIX. (Continued)
          Chapter XX. Playing to Win.

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 19 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XX. (Continued)
          Chapter XXI. Dealing the Cards

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 22 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXI. (Continued)

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 26 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXII. Wenlock's Trump Card
          Chapter XXIII. Charlie Royle Goes Abroad

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 29 July 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXIII. (Continued)
          Chapter XXIV. A House of Cards

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 2 August 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXIV. (Continued)

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 5 August 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXV. Second Sight

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 9 August 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXV. (Continued)
          Chapter XXVI. Cain

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 12 August 1898. Page 4

          Chapter XXVI. (Continued)

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 16 August 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXVI.--Continued
          Chapter XXVII. Outward Bound, link

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 19 August 1898, Page 5

          Chapter XXVIII. Vision of the Night

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tueday 23 August 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXVIII. (Continued)
          Chapter XXIX. Under the Stars and Strips

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Friday 26 August 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXIX. (Continued)
          Chapter XXX. Yellow Dog Gully

          The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 30 August 1898, Page 4

          Chapter XXX. (Continued)
          Chapter XXXI. Mrs. Wenlock's Opinion

          The End


          • In Mandeville Square, Campbell's detective, Matthew Wenlock, lives with his dotty mum who practices a form of cartomancy that has similarities to that described here.

            The Book of Days: A Miscellany of Popular Antiquities, Volume 1 (London: W & R Chambers, 1888), Pages 281-284
            edited by Robert Chambers

            Folk Lore of Playing Cards

            Campbell's book includes a section that contains a disturbing level of violence in which a victim's individuality is obliterated.

            Gertrude Marlow, daughter of the man whose murder constitutes the mystery of the story, has been wrongly committed to an asylum by her step-mother. One of the inmates is a man who imagines himself to be King Richard II.

            The Corowa Free Press (NSW : 1875 - 1954), Tuesday 12 July 1898, Page 4

            Chapter XIX. King Richard's Discovery


            "Doctor Parravicini," said Gertrude,
            venturing to lay a hand upon the arm of
            the keeper of Seldon Retreat, "let me
            beg of you to listen to me for a moment.
            I feol sure that the unhappy man who
            has just left us meditates some awful
            deed. His whole manner is fierce and
            threatening, and when you came up I
            saw a terrible scowl for a momeut upon
            his features."

            "1 thank you, Miss Marlow," answered
            the doctor, in kindlier accents
            than he had yet used towards her, "but
            will you permit me to be a better judge
            of my patients than you are. I have
            the most perfect command over them all,
            and even had I not the attendants to
            support me would overcome them all
            with my glance."

            He turned away from her, and
            endeavored to instil some life into the
            listless revellers, but in vain; the dances
            were gone through mechanically, the
            songs sung without spirit or energy, and
            the whole entertainment seemed about
            to prove a dismal failure. Gertrude
            and Martin remained near the door,
            watching the fantastically dressed crowd
            moving to aud fro, when suddenly their
            attention was attracted by the sound of
            a loud voice, and glancing to the spot
            from which it proceeded Gertrude saw
            the soi distant Richard II addressing a
            small crowd of maniacs.

            " My trusty lieges," cried he, " I tell
            you that the hour has come when you
            will be free; aye, and freed by my
            hand. Too lung has a felon, aided by
            some patent enchantment, detained you
            in dismal durance; but now our time of
            deliverance has arrived; and I, Richard,
            the last of the Plantagenets, shall again
            ascend the throne of my ancestors." His
            blue eyes flashed, and his long fair
            beard seemed to curl with the intensity
            of his passion. The crowd of madmen
            round him raised a feeble shout, which
            at once died sway as Doctor Parravicini
            stepped forward and accosted the pseudo

            "Enough of this," said he, sternly,
            "you are disturbing the harmony of the
            evening; return to your room at once,
            or I shall havo you conveyed there by

            For a moment the two men gazed
            into each other's faces; but the lunatic
            was the first to quail; be stepped back
            a pace, and his band stole towards the
            breast of his tunic.

            "Retire, sir," cried the doctor in an
            authoritative tone, placing his hand
            upon his shoulder as he spoke.

            Just as he did so a shrill scream broke
            upon his ear, Lady Montmorency de
            Courcy, alias Susan Hoggs, had quarrelled
            with one of the other female lunatics,
            and had suddenly flown at her and
            was tearing her face and hair. The
            doctor for a moment took his eyes off
            the maniac who stood before him and
            turned towards the combatants, and that
            moment was fatal to bim. With a wild
            yell of "Piers Exton, felon knight, have
            I found thee at last!" the madman's
            hand disappeared, in the breast of his
            tunic, and reappeared again armed with
            a kitchen cleaver, which he had somehow
            managed to obtain possession of. One
            sweep of his muscular arm buried the
            weapon in the doctor's brain, who fell at
            the feet of his slayer with a deep groan.
            As if stirred by some hidden spring, the
            crowd of lunatics, male and female,
            dashed upon the keepers, not one had a
            chance of escape, and death was
            inflicted upon them in its most hideous
            form by the nails, teeth, and feet of
            their insensate assailants. Richard II
            stood motionless, with his foot firmly
            pressed upon the body of his victim, and
            gazed proudly round upon the terrible
            scene before him; then as though seized
            with a sudden access of ferocity, he
            discharged a volley of blows upon the
            senseless body beneath him, shattering
            the head into one shapeless and
            indistinguishable mass. Gazing with grim
            approval upon his work, and holding
            the gore-stained weapon clutched tightly
            io his hand, he strode towards the
            shrinking Gertrude.

            "Ha!" cried he, with a freeh gleam
            of ferocity in his face, "what, another
            minion of the accursed Exton still
            living!" and raising the cleaver, he
            prepared to deal a deadly blow at Martin.
            Death appeared to be imminent, and
            the poor woman--was in the act of
            closing her eyee that they might not see
            the coming blow, when the sense of the
            immediate peril caused Gertrude to
            take a decisive step.



            • Here's a description of Gilbert Campbell from an Australian newspaper written at the time of his conviction in the literary frauds case.

              Weekly Times (Melbourne, Vic. : 1869 - 1954), Sat 8 Oct 1892, Page 11

              Sir Gilbert Campbell

              Sir Gilbert Campbell, Bart., who has
              just been sent to prison for 18 months
              in England in connection with the literary
              and art frauds, was pretty well known in
              London to a member of our staff. Tne latter
              says: I met Sir Gilbert Campbell
              under amusing circumstances. I
              was doing the editorial work for a paper
              which belonged to a needy aristocratic
              gentleman, Colonel A--, a man who had
              "plenty of social influence, but no hard
              cash," as he once confessed. One day a
              card was brought in to me, inscribed
              "Sir Gilbert Campbell, Bart." Contributors
              with titles were not very common
              in Fleet street, and when the office boy
              showed him in I conceived no
              wish that they should be. He
              was a shabby genteel man, with
              a bottle-green frock coat, buttoned
              across his chest; a tall hat with a
              reminiscence of nap still lingering upon it;
              and boots that revealed a gape between
              the sole and upper of each. He looked
              like a bookmaker down on his luck
              or a publican deprived of his license. His
              face was puffy and flushed.

              He sat down and said he had called to
              see whether the paper could take a series
              of sporting stories from him. I said we
              should be glad to consider any contributions
              received from his pen. He wanted
              a definite promise; but no journalist
              would be likely to invite contributions
              from a man with whose work he was
              not acquainted. He said he would send
              something in, and stipulated a very high
              price—-more than we were in the habit of
              paying. I said we should not pay that
              figure. "Oh," said he, but you must
              pay something extra for my name." I
              replied that a name was not worth as
              much as good copy to any paper.

              Then he became angry, and his puffy
              face became more puffy and more red.
              He went on to tell me about his ancestry
              and the departed glory of his race. I
              asked him how it was that a baronet with
              such an illustrious pedigree should be
              seeking for work in Fleet street. "Oh,"
              he said, in a loud voice, "what the
              blankety blank can a blank man do in
              these biank times? A man must blank
              well live, and if he can't live on his blank
              income, he must make money by writing
              blank stories for biank papers."

              I remarked that if his literary style was
              anything like that, I was afraid it was a
              trifle too ornate for our columns. He let off
              more steam, swore a lot, and
              took his departure. He never sent
              anything in. I saw him several
              times afterwards in Fleet street, looking
              seedier each time. He pressed me to have
              drinks, but I never happened to be thirsty
              and he sought the classic shades of the
              Cheshire Cheese, Moonie's [sic], and the ****,
              unaccompanied. Later on I saw him
              finally arrayed in broadcloth and fine
              linen. 1 supposed he had commenced his
              literary and art agency then. He found it
              more profitable than writing stories—-only
              the police stepped in! Poor Sir Gilbert


              • The year after "Mandeville Square," Beeton's Annual featured another story by Sir Gilbert Campbell.

                The Literary World, Volume 40, December 13, 1889, Page 504


                Beeton's Christmas Annual (Ward, Lock, and Co.), contains 'A Wave of Brain Power,' by Sir Gilbert Campbell, and a short musical play 'Minette's Birthday,' by Mr. R. Andre. Speaking of the book as a whole, the latter, though pretty, may be disregarded. The former is a highly sensational, oftentimes gruesome, narrative. Occult forces, exercised by Craddock Lipthwaite alias Revolver, chief dynamitard of a London gang, subject David Acland, a true-hearted young author, to the villain's will, and make him an active agent in a series of crimes. Rhoda Harding, David's betrothed, discovers his misery and exerts her ownspiritual and mental powers to combat the will and eventually to triumph over his cruel taskmaster. Human interests are not wholly absent from the working out of the plot, but many of the details are ghastly in the extreme, and more than one passage we wish we had never read.


                This story was also later serialized in an Australian newspaper, under a different title.

                Launceston Examiner, September 17, 1892 Page 1

                Chapter I. -- Great Grill-Street

                Launceston Examiner, September 24, 1892 Page 1

                Chapter II. -- In the Silent Night

                Launceston Examiner, October 1, 1892 Page 1

                Chapter III. -- A Pipe of Tobacco

                Launceston Examiner, October 8, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter IV. -- 13, Marshgate-Street

                Launceston Examiner, October 15, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter V. -- A Dastardly Scheme

                Launceston Examiner, October 22, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter VI. -- At the Chateau Music Hall

                Launceston Examiner, October 29, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter VII. -- A Domiciliary Visit

                Launceston Examiner, November 5, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter VIII. -- An Innocent Experiment

                [mentions "The Haunted and the Haunters" by Bulwer Lytton]

                Launceston Examiner, November 12, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter IX. -- A Guardian Angel

                Launceston Examiner, November 19, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter X. -- A Pinch of Snuff

                Launceston Examiner, November 26, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter XI. -- Master and Man

                ["They say there was a baronet there once or twice, rather a broken down one, I believe, but the real thing for all that."]

                Launceston Examiner, December 3, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter XII. -- Opposing Forces

                Launceston Examiner, December 10, 1892 Page 2

                Chapter XII. -- Opposing Forces (continued)

                Launceston Examiner, December 17, 1892 Page 13

                Chapter XIII. -- A Patriot's Resolve
                Chapter XIV. -- V. 29

                Launceston Examiner, December 24, 1892 Page 9

                Chapter XIV. -- (Continued)

                Launceston Examiner, December 31, 1892 Page 9

                Chapter XV. -- Another Defeat

                Launceston Examiner, January 7, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XV. -- Another Defeat (continued)
                Chapter XVI. -- Opening the Campaign

                [some text out of order]

                Launceston Examiner, January 14, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XVI. -- (Continued)
                Chapter XVII. -- A Sceptic Convinced

                Launceston Examiner, January 21, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XVII. -- (Continued)
                Chapter XVIII. -- A Timely Rescue

                Launceston Examiner, January 28, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XVIII. -- A Timely Rescue (Continued)
                Chapter XIX. -- The Return to Bondage

                Launceston Examiner, February 4, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XIX. -- The Return to Bondage (Continued)
                Chapter XX, -- 'From Information Received'

                Launceston Examiner, February 11, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XX -- From Information Received (Continued)
                Chapter XXI -- Harder Than Adamant

                Launceston Examiner, February 18, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XXI. -- Harder Than Adamant (Continued)
                Chapter XXII -- Waiting for the Explosion

                Launceston Examiner, February 25, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XXII. -- (Continued)
                Chpater XXIII. -- The Last Mission

                Launceston Examiner, March 4, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XXIII. -- (Continued)
                Chapter XXXIV. -- At the Police Court

                The prisoner, who, in the exuberance
                of his drunken spirits had
                simply knocked down his wife, and
                trampled upon her face, thereby totally
                disfiguring her for life, was, by the
                Draconic severity of the English law,
                sentenced to six weeks' imprisonment
                with hard labour, during which time the
                wife had the option of starving or applying
                to the Union for relief.

                Launceston Examiner, March 11, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XXIV. -- (Continued)
                Chapter XXV. -- Flight

                Launceston Examiner, March 18, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XXV. -- (Continued)
                Chapter XXVI -- The Fulfillment of the Prophecy

                Launceston Examiner, March 25, 1893 Page 9

                Chapter XXVI. -- (Continued)
                Chapter XXVII -- The Last Wave


                • Like "Mandeville Square," "Grill-Street" features a scene of disturbing violence that ends in the obliteration of the victim's indvoduality.

                  The villain of the story, Craddock Lipthwaite, flees justice and seeks refuge in Whitechapel. Finding the atmosphere of a rooming house too repellent,
                  he returns to the streets where an argument with a woman results in an angry mob mistaking him for Jack the Ripper.




                  As these thoughts passed through his brain he walked slowly along until he came to the line of iron railings which enclosed some large public building, of the name of which he was ignorant. He leaned against them for a moment, and pulling, out his pipe, was proceeding to light it, when one of the wretched outcast women who infest the neighbourhood came up to him, and pulling him roughly by the arm, suggested the propriety of his paying for some refreshment for her of a liquid and spirituous nature. The unceremonious grasp which she laid upon his arm caused him to burn his fingers with the match, and with an angry oath he pushed her away with more violence, perhaps, than be had intended. The woman staggered back, and, losing her balance, measured her length upon the pavement, uttering at the same time 'a dismal shriek for help. Half a dozen other women of a similar unfortunate class hurried up, a violent altercation ensued, and as Craddock Lipthwaite strove to disengage himself from them and proceed on his way, the woman who was still prostrate on the ground uttered a loud cry of “Murder!”

                  Murder! how the dread word rang out through the silent night; how it seemed to fly from house to house and be carried by the breeze over the roofs and down into the cellars. Murder! it seemed as if the word had a magic spell in it, which roused the whole neighbourhood from its slumber. No more rest, no more repose; half-dressed men stumbled out of doorways, pronouncing it in sleepy accents. Women, with their hair hanging down, and clasping their clothes with one hand to their bosoms, shrieked it out in accents of alarm and dismay. Children caught it up and lisped it out in awestruck accents. The very dogs, who barked and howled as the turmoil swelled louder and louder, appeared to be uttering the same dread word in their canine language. The sound of hurrying feet echoed along the pavement; lights appeared at the windows, doors opened and slammed again, and al Whitechapel was on foot to hunt down the mysterious murderer who had filled the locality with panic and affright.

                  The men who had followed Lipthwaite now came up to where he was standing, and one of them seizing him roughly by the collar, inquired with an oath what he was doing to the woman.

                  “He tried to murder me,” screamed the half-intoxicated woman, who still lay upon the pavement, “he is out on his devilish work again to-night, and I have barely escaped with my life.”

                  “Do you hear what the woman says?” asked the man, accompanying his demand with a rough shake of Lipthwaite's collar. “What have you been a doin' to her, you bloodthirsty villin? “

                  “Take your hands off me,” answered Craddock calmly, for he did not yet see the full horror of his position, “you have no right to detain me in this manner.”

                  “Come, stow that gab,” exclaimed another man, coming up and pushing with much violence against Lipthwaite, sending him staggering against the iron railings.

                  Craddock's hat was knocked off, but in an instant he recovered himself, and springing forward, caught his assailant by the throat, and held him with a grip of iron. “You insolent dog,” cried he, his face blazing with the intensity of his wrath. “How dare you venture to lay a hand on me?“

                  For a few seconds the man struggled stoutly enough, and strove to strike his assailant, but Craddock Lipthwaite's long arms held him at such a distance that he was unable to do so, and as the strangling clutch began to tell upon him his face grew black and his tongue commenced to protrude, whilst a hoarse, rattling sound gurgled from his throat.

                  A large crowd had by this time collected, and was increasing every moment. Those on the outskirts could see nothing of what was going on, but hearing that the man who had committed the terrible murders, which had overshadowed that quarter of the town with a mist of blood, were loud in their menaces and their calls for vengeance. “Lynch him!” shouted they, “Lynch him!” and the boys, who ever hover on the verge of popular outbreaks, as the stormy petrel skims over the wave at the approach of the tempest, took up the cry with shrill vehemence.

                  The tumult that had arisen, as if by magic around him, at length warned Lipthwaite of the perilous position in which he was placed, and letting the half insensible man drop to the ground, he endeavoured to force his way through the ring which had now formed around him, the prostrate woman, who was still raving wildly, and her female companions. But his attempts were vain, no one offered to make way for him, and darker, and darker, and darker grew the scowl upon the faces of the bystanders, and fiercer the yells for vengeance that went from the crowd. For the first time Craddock Lipthwaite realized the real danger of his position. “Great heaven,” muttered he, “the fools take me for the mysterious murderer who has half frightened them out of the small amount of wits they possess; and in their blind, unreasoning panic, they are as likely as not to tear me to pieces.”

                  “Listen, my friends,” cried he aloud, throwing all the calmness and persuasion of which he was capable into his voice. “You are completely in error. I am quite a stranger in Whitechapel; indeed, this is the first time I ever entered it in my life. 1 am an honest, hard-working man like yourselves, and look with as great horror as you upon the infamous crimes that have been committed in your midst.”

                  He spoke with such an air of truth and candour, that those who stood nearest to him were impressed with his statement, but his voice did not penetrate far, and from the more distant portions of the crowd rose a few faint cries, of “Hand him over to the police,” which were speedily drowned by the savage roar of “No police ! no police ! lynch the cowardly devil, and make an end of the thing once and for all.”

                  In spite, however, of these threatening suggestions, Craddock Lipthwaite might have induced, those standing around him to hear reason, had it not been for a strange unforeseen incident, which entirely changed the face of the whole affair.

                  “Then what did the woman mean by saying that you had tried to murder her?” asked one of the men who had first accosted him, speaking in a more civil manner than he had yet done. “She swears I don't know what, and makes out a black case against you, guv'nor.”

                  “Pshaw,” returned Lipthwaite, scornfully, casting a look of bitter contempt upon the outcast, who was now sitting up on the pavement rocking herself to and fro, and muttering a farrago of nonsense with drunken volubility. “Are men's lives to be placed in jeopardy by the statements of such cattle as those?” and, taking a step forward, he pushed the woman roughly with his boot. His contemptuous manner, more than the actual brutality of his behaviour, seemed to goad the unhappy creature to madness. She uttered a scream like a wild beast, and springing to her feet, lacerated his face with her nails, and tore his hair before he could make an effort to defend himself.

                  Furious both at the pain and at the ignominy of the assault in such a place, and by such a creature, Lipthwaite swore a deep oath, and raising his right arm, struck the woman a savage blow which felled her to the earth. Even, however, this cowardly act upon his part might not have injured him with the crowd which surrounded him, the members of it being for the most part perfectly accustomed to see the weaker sex cuffed and kicked, without any feeling of disgust arising in the hearts of the lookers on, but as the unfortunate woman fell backwards, she caught hold of her assailant's coat, and tearing it open, the long keen knife, which Lipthwaite had secreted, fell with a clang upon the ground. With a cry of triumph, the outcast darted upon it, and waving it high above her head, shrieked, “Now, who is the liar, he or I? He says he ain't the cove wot does the murders; why, 'ere is the very knife with which he cuts our throats and rips us open. Now, am I right or I not? Curse you all, are you going to let him slip through your fingers, now that you have got him?”

                  The tide had now turned and Craddock Lipthwaite would have been safer in the midst of a pack of famished wolves than in the centre of the howling crowd which now set up one long yell to heaven for his blood.

                  In an instant the unfortunate man saw that all was over, and at the same time the ghastly vision of David Acland recurred to his mind. He was the object of universal execration--all were crying out against him, all were thirsting for his blood. Death was very near to him now, and what a death, one by inches, one by kicks and blows, a death amidst the mud and mire of a crowded thoroughfare, with not one pitying eye to look upon him or one heart to feel sorrow for his untimely end. “Better the convict prison,” he muttered to himself, “at least, that gives me a chance of life.” Then lifting his voice he shouted with all the force of his lungs, “Police!” “Police!” A roar of execration and hatred greeted this appeal, and the answering shout came swiftly back “To hell with you, you murdering dog, we want no police to do our work.”

                  Wildly he glared round at the ring of smiling faces which was narrowing round him, and read in them that his fate was sealed. “At any rate,” he thought, “I will have blood for blood, and those who attack me shall not escape unscathed.”

                  As these thoughts passed through his mind he sprang at the woman who was still flourishing the upturned knife, and endeavoured to wrench the weapon from her grasp. With a wild shriek she sprung backwards into the crowd which opened to give her passage, and at the same time a small urchin, who had crept between the legs of the bystanders, cast a handful of mud in the hunted man's face. From that moment he felt that it was all over with him, for the flashing eye which had to some extent kept back the crowd was now temporarily hidden, and the infuriated mob closed around their victim.

                  As he strove to clear the foul mud from his face a man struck him a heavy blow upon the back of his head with a wooden shovel which he was carrying, causing him to fall upon his knees, but saving him from many other blows which whistled harmlessly over his head. In an instant, however, Craddock Lipthwaite was on his feet again, and having partially cleared his eyes attempted to grapple with his nearest assailants, at the same time shouting loudly for the police. Blows now rained upon him like hail, the blood streamed from his face, and his shouts and cries grew more and more feeble. Now he was down again upon his knees, whilst his assailants kicked savagely at his back and ribs, and once again he was on his feet, only kept erect by the pressure of the crowd, and a target for every blow that could be aimed at him. His shouts had now died completely away, and only a hoarse gasping sound issued from his throat. For an instant the crowd drew back a little, as though to gather strength for a fresh onslaught upon the wretched man who was standing alone in its midst.

                  His aspect was so terrible that a thrill of horror passed for an instant through every heart. Hardly a feature was visible, nose, lips, eyes, and forehead seemed to have been mashed into one unrecognizable pulp, his right arm hung broken and helpless by his side, a few tattered shreds of garments hardly covered his body, his boots were nearly ground to powder. He stood erect amongst them, an image of life in death, a low moaning sob breaking at intervals from the mutilated lips. It was a sight that might have moved a heart of stone, but the hearts of the rough crowd were made of some harder materials, and as the wretched creature stood swaying unsteadily backwards and forwards a stout man of the East End bully type stepped up to him, and with a tremendous left handed blow felled him to the ground. Craddock Lipthwaite fell with a sickening crash upon the flagstones, and the crowd, as though their appetite for murder had been freshened, looked upon the prostrate form with more inveterate ferocity than ever.

                  Dull heavy thuds were heard as fists and boots rained a hail of blows and kicks upon the motionless body, which now did not gratify its murderers by the utterance of a single groan.

                  All at once a cry was heard, "Here's Joe the Knacker, make way for him, and let him treat the devil as he treated the poor women."

                  Once more the crowd drew back a little from the bruised and disfigured mass of humanity, and a tall young fellow, whose thigh boots and linen vest were marked with huge patches of grease and mud, was pushed forward to the front rank. He held a long shining knife in his hand, and amidst the shouts of "Rip him up as he did the poor girls," he bent over the motionless form.

                  "Now then, Joe, show us a sample of your handiwork," was the cry that arose, mingled with peals of brutal laughter.
                  The man looked upon the still breathing body before him, and then glared helplessly at the threatening crowd. "I can't do it," exclaimed he, with an oath, and casting the knife aside he elbowed his way out of the ring.

                  But the woman who had been the primary cause of Craddock Lipthwaite's terrible fate was close at hand. During all that terrible scene of Lynch Law she had contrived to retain a front place, and more than once had had the inexpressible felicity of administering a blow or a kick upon the unhappy victim.

                  With a cry of exultation she darted upon the knife which the horse slaughterer had let fall, and kneeling beside the prostrate form gashed the abdomen with hideous transverse wounds. As if the excruciating pain had once again aroused Craddock Lipthwaite to a sense of agony he uttered one long ear-piercing shriek, which for a long time haunted the slumbers of the listeners, rose to his knees and endeavoured to compress the gaping wounds with his hands, then fell back heavily, a dead man.

                  When the police, by the merciless use of the batons, forced their way to where the body was lying, they found it entirely unrecognisable, and no one could trace in that battered fragment of humanity either the intellectual features of the Apostle of Brain Power or the crafty lineaments of the dreaded Revolver.



                  • In "The Great Grill Street Conspiracy," Sir Gilbert Campbell mentions that one of the characters, Rhoda, read a story by Bulwer Lytton, "The Haunted and the Haunters," which inspired her to try her own hand at exercising mental powers.

                    Here's a link to the first version of the story.

                    Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 86, August, 1859, Pages 224-245

                    The Haunted and the Haunters, or, The House and the Brain

                    Later a truncated version was published in a book, which a note explaining the reason for the abridgement. I'm not sure which version Campbell was familiar with.

                    A Strange Story; and The Haunted and the Haunters (London: Routledge, Warne, and Routledge, 1864), Pages 325-343

                    This tale first appeared in Blackwood's Magazine, August, 1859. A portion of it as then published is now suppressed, because encroaching too much on the main plot of the "Strange Story." As it stands, however, it may be considered the preliminary outline of that more elaborate attempt to construct an interest akin to that which our forefathers felt in tales of witchcraft and ghostland, out of ideas and beliefs which have crept into fashion in the society of our own day. There has, perhaps, been no age in which certain phenomena that in all ages have been produced by, or upon, certain physical temperaments, have excited so general a notice,-—more perhaps among the educated classes than the uneducated. Nor do I believe that there is any age in which those phenomena have engendered throughout a wider circle a more credulous superstition. But, on the other hand, there has certainly been no age in which persons of critical and inquisitive intellect-—seeking to divest what is genuine in these apparent vagaries of Nature from the cheats of venal impostors and the exaggeration of puzzled witnesses-—have more soberly endeavoured to render such exceptional thaumaturgia of philosophical use, in enlarging our conjectural knowledge of the complex laws of being—-sometimes through physiological, sometimes through metaphysical research. "Without discredit, however, to the many able and distinguished speculators on so vague a subject, it must be observed that their explanations as yet have been rather ingenious than satisfactory. Indeed, the first requisites for conclusive theory are at present wanting. The facts are not sufficiently generalized, and the evidences for them have not been sufficiently tested.

                    It is just when elements of the marvellous are thus struggling between superstition and philosophy, that they fall by right to the domain of Art—-the art of poet or tale-teller. They furnish the constructor of imaginative fiction with materials for mysterious terror of a character not exhausted by his predecessors, and not foreign to the notions that float on the surface of his own time; while they allow him to wander freely over that range of conjecture which is favourable to his purposes, precisely because science itself has not yet disenchanted that debateable realm of its haunted shadows and goblin lights.


                    • Some items related to the Mary Rogers ("Marie Roget") case.

                      Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography, Volume 5 (New York: D. Appleton, 1888), Pages 308-309

                      ROGERS, Mary Cecilia, b. about 1820: d. in Weehawken, N. J., 25 July, 1841. She was the daughter of a widow that kept a boardinghouse in Nassau street, and was engaged by John Anderson as a shop-girl in his tobacco-store on Broadway, near Duane street, where young men of fashion bought their cigars and tobacco. No suspicion had ever been attached to her character, and much excitement was manifested when she suddenly disappeared. A week later she reappeared at her accustomed place behind the counter, and in reply to all inquiries said that she had been on a visit to her aunt in the country. Several years afterward she left her home one Sunday morning to visit a relative in another part of the city. She requested her accepted suitor, who boarded with her mother, to come for her in the evening; but, as it rained, he concluded thut she would remain over night, and did not call for her. The next day she failed to return, and it was ascertained that she had not visited her relative. Four days later her body was found floating in Hudson river, near Weehawken, with marks that showed beyond doubt that she had been murdered. Every effort was made to determine by whom she had been killed, but without success. A few weeks later, in a thicket on the New Jersey shore, part of her clothing was found, with every evidence that a desperate struggle had taken place there; but these appearances were believed, on close inspection, to have been arranged to give it that aspect. Subsequently it was shown that she had been in the habit of meeting a young naval officer secretly, and it was alleged that she was in his company at the time of her first disappearance. He was able to account for his whereabouts from the time of her leaving home until the finding of her body, and the murder would have been forgotten had not Edgar Allan Poe revived the incident of the crime in his "Mystery of Marie Roget." With remarkable skill he analyzed the evidence, and showed almost conclusively that the murder had been accomplished by one familiar with the sea, who had dragged her body to the water and there deposited it. Many persons were suspected of the crime, and, among others, John Anderson, whose last years, he claimed, were haunted by her spirit.


                      A brief bio of John Anderson.

                      Makers of New York (Philadelphia: L. R. Hamersly, 1894), Page 213
                      edited by Charles Morris

                      JOHN ANDERSON, the millionaire tobacconist, was the son of William Anderson, who came from England to this country early in the present century, his immigration being due to Robert Fulton, the celebrated inventor of the steamboat. He became an earnest and patriotic American, took part on the side of his adopted country in the second war with Great Britain, and fell in battle, as an officer, in the year 1812. His son John was born shortly after his death.

                      Deprived of paternal care, the son, as soon as of sufficient age to engage in the struggle of life, began a career which proved quickly successful, and rapidly led to fortune. The business into which he entered was that of tobacco dealer and manufacturer, and his history as a merchant presents no salient points on which we need to dwell, other than to say that he won honor and respect among his fellow-merchants of New York, and eventually retired from business as one of the millionaires of the metropolis, and as one of the liberal supporters of art, science, and humanity.

                      Among his intimate friends must particularly be mentioned the famous Italian patriot Garibaldi, who had come to this country as an exile from his native land. Here he was forced to labor for his daily bread, but found in Mr. Anderson a warm and appreciative friend, who did much to assist him, and earnestly encouraged his patriotic views. In 1860, the year in which our own civil war was impending, the struggle for liberty began in Italy, and Garibaldi, gladly hearing the news of the patriotic uprising, was quickly upon the occan on his return to his native land. His fellow-patriot Avezzana, who was prevented from accompanying him by the fact of his having here a wife and children, was liberally aided by Mr. Anderson, and enabled to join his chief and engage with him in the great struggle for Italian liberty. A great sympathetic meeting of the citizens of New York was called, and an address to the people of Italy prepared, under the supervision of Mr. Anderson, whose earnest tones warmed the hearts of the friends of liberty in all lands.

                      Mr. Anderson was as warmly interested in the defense of his native land against rebellion as he had been in the liberation of Italy from tyranny. In the carly days of the war, when the State proposed to raise a fund for the families of drafted men by the issue of bonds, and its legal right to do so was questioned, Mr. Anderson solved the difficulty by immediately heading the subscription, an example which quickly brought in the requisite funds. Later, when Jersey City found itself unable to provide, in a legal manner, for putting its contingent into the field, Mr. Anderson cut this knot also by sending to the mayor a gift of $60,000, a sum which fully sufficed to send the regiments on their way to the seat of war.

                      In 1870, Mr. Anderson, having retired from business, went to Europe with his wife, and while there had the pleasure of meeting again his old friends, visiting Avezzana, then residing in Florence, and remaining for a time as the guest of Garibaldi in his island home. On his return to New York he purchased a tract of land at Tarrytown, and built there the handsome brick mansion which remained his home during the rest of his life. This beautifully situated dwelling, with its well-kept grounds, is among the ornaments of that locality.

                      In 1873, Professor Louis Agassiz, who desired to establish a school for the instruction of teachers in natural history, applied to the Legislature of Massachusetts for a grant of money for that purpose. His appeal failed, but when the news of the failure of this highly worthy project came to the attention of Mr. Anderson, he immediately resolved to furnish the desired sum. The well-situated and beautiful island of Penikese was placed by him at the service of the great naturalist, and with it the sum of $50,000 as an endowment for the proposed school, to which was justly given the title of “The Anderson School of Natural History."

                      Mr. Anderson was twice married. By his first wife he had six children. His second wife was a descendant of the same family as Washington Irving, and had one son by a former marriage, Stanley Conner, a well-known sculptor. In the fall of 1880 Mr. Anderson made another visit to Europe, intending again to visit his old friend, the liberator of Italy. But soon after reaching Paris he was taken suddenly ill, and died there on the 22d of November. His remains were brought home and interred in the family tomb at Greenwood.


                      The story about Anderson believing he was haunted by the spirit of Mary Rogers came out during trials contesting his will. This is a summary of the case.

                      A Treatise on the Medical Jurisprudence of Insanity (Albany: Mathhew Bender, 1893), Pages 181-185
                      By Edward Cox Mann

                      The Psychological Aspect of the Anderson Will Case

                      The last will and testament of John Anderson, the millionaire tobacconist, was executed October 25th, 1879; a codicil was added to this will on September 29th, 1881, revoking some provisions of the will. John Anderson died on the 22nd of November, 1881.

                      The case was commenced about May 27th, 1882, and was brought by Mary Maud Watson, a granddaughter of John Anderson, her mother's name having been before marriage Mary Louise Anderson, afterwards Mrs. Carr. The action was brought to recover one undivided fifth part of the property mentioned in the complaint, it being part of the realty belonging to the estate of John Anderson, deceased.

                      The plaintiff claimed that the alleged will and codicil were not, nor was either of them, duly executed; that at the time of the execution thereof respectively, the said John Anderson, deceased, was not of sound mind or memory nor capable of making a will or codicil thereto, and that the execution of said alleged last will and codicil, respectively, was procured by the undue influence, duress and restraint exercised upon him.

                      The only heirs-at-law and next of kin of the said John Anderson, deceased, are and were John Charles Anderson, the only surviving son of said decedent: Kate Anderson, of the city of New York, his widow; Laura V. Appleton. wife of Edward J. Appleton, of Brooklyn, N. Y., the only surviving daughter of said decedent; Fannie A. Barnard, Mary A. Wagstaff, wife of Alfred Wagstaff; Alice Barnard, George G. Barnard and John Charles Barnard, the surviving children of Fannie A. Barnard, deceased, a daughter of said decedent—-said Alice, George G. and John C. Barnard being minors, and said Alfred Wagstaff being their general guardian; Agnes Bryant and Amanda Bryant, the only surviving children of Amanda Bryant, deceased, a daughter of said decedent, and lastly, Mary Maud Watson, the plaintiff in this suit. The testimony of the appellants discloses many indications of mental disorder, the most prominent being as follows, viz: The case as developed on the trial claimed to show on the plaintiff's side that John Anderson, deceased, was not of sound mind and memory at the time of making his will, for the following reasons, viz., Mr. Anderson was a man between 50 and 60 years of age, who, by his own efforts, amassed a large fortune. He was a man of limited education, and on reaching the age of 50 or 60, he was under the impression, or stated that he began to be visited by ghosts or spirits. That he supposed his boy, Willie, then dead, appeared to him, and that he held communication with him from time to time, or with his spirit after death. That on one occasion he handed to a man, who had saved this boy's life, $100, saying that the boy, Willie, then dead, had appeared to him, and had asked him to make that gift of that $100. That the decedent supposed that he was haunted by the spirit of Mary Rogers, a girl formerly in his employ, and who had disappeared, and that her spirit gave him much trouble for some period of time, until finally he announced that it was all right with her and with her spirit, and that she gave him no more trouble. He adhered to these news and would not be persuaded that they were all delusions or imaginations. That he believed a certain investment would pay 25 per cent., because the spirit of Mary Rogers said so. That he believed the mother of the plaintiff illigitimate, and that his wife was a prostitute or had been. That, although a man of large wealth, he lived with his wife and one servant in a large house, which was but partly furnished. That the house had steel shutters, which were closely drawn at night. That he was afraid his food would be poisoned, and gave directions to keep the ice box containing food locked. That he gave directions that no brass pins should be around the house, because he was afraid of being poisoned or affected by the pins. That he gave directions never to unbolt the door unless it was first learned who sought admission, because he was afraid somebody would shoot him. That he believed there was a conspiracy on the part of his family, or some of them, to stab him or kill him, or both. That he believed his son was a thief and robbed him of a large amount of property in a house of prostitution, though his son was the residuary legatee under his will and inherited the bulk of his property. That he had exaggerated ideas of his ability to re-fashion the governments, or some of them, in Europe, or to fashion these governments into a republic. That he stated that he expected to be a man of much importance in such a republic. That he desired to go away from the world and be alone. That he was troubled with loss of sleep and severe pains in the head. That he had an intention to kill himself on that account. That shortly after making his codicil he left for Europe, with the remark that when he got away from these people he intended to make a different will. That late in life his walk was irregular; that his feet and hands shook, and left foot dropped and he walked with a halting gate [sic]. That he became weak and feeble in body, incoherent in conversation, passing from one subject to another, without apparent causes, from business to the discussion of the situation of spirits. That he made untrue and disgusting remarks about men or acquaintances. That he threatened or offered to expose his person in a public place in order to convince his friend that his physical powers were not impaired. That he had a shot gun, rifle and sword ready to do deadly injury to a son-in-law of his. That he died within about two years from the date of his will, and within a few months from the date of his codicil. That out of a fortune of several millions, he left the child of his daughter the income of $20,000. That at one time, late at 'night, he left the residence of his son-in-law, Geo. C. Barnard, in cold weather, in his stocking feet, without shoes and without a coat. and was afterwards, in that same night, discovered at the Astor House in that condition. That he refused to go to the residence of Judge Barnard because they had a conspiracy to kill him. That he tried to persuade a friend or a gentleman to go to Judge Hackett and converse with him on that account.

                      On the contrary, the witnesses to the will testified that in their opinion (?) said decedent was of sound mind and memory when he made the will.

                      The facts we relate were testified to by several witnesses, one of whom, Mr. McCloskey, had been acquainted with the decedent for thirty-five years and had been connected with him in business.

                      The great medico-legal point in this case is this: Did the delusions of the decedent (Anderson) influence the disposition of the will? If so, the mental disorder was sufficient to vitiate the will in question. There, it seems to me, we are brought face to face with a will, the manifest offspring of a gross delusion.

                      A person to make a valid will, must understand perfectly the nature and amount of the property they are disposing of; must have a sound disposing mind and memory; must not ignore the natural claims of relationship and affection, and must be free from undue influence, duress or restraint.

                      The first trial was before Judge Van Brunt, but he would not give the case to the jury, but directed a verdict for defendant. An insane delusion affecting the provisions of a will must invalidate it. Now, can a belief in Spiritualism and communications from the so-called spirit land be considered an insane delusion? A very safe rule in medico-legal trials of this sort is the following: When a person entertains a belief opposed to the general experience of mankind, and incapable of being verified by human means, and such belief leads the person to disregard the ordinary obligations of duty and affection, it is to be hoped that a will based upon such conditions may never stand. Any alleged religious belief that leads a testator to commit wrong and injustice may safely be set down as a delusion.



                      • In the 1887 trial contesting John Anderson's the Judge disallowed a question about Anderson having said that he had paid Poe $5,000 to write "Marie Roget" in order to divert suspicion from himself.

                        New York Tribune, June 03, 1887, Page 3, Column 5

                        Closing Testimony at the Anderson Trial

                        The taking of testimony in the suit of Mrs. Mary Maud
                        Watson for the recovery of an interest in real estate which
                        formerly belonged to her grandfather, John Anderson, was
                        finished yesterday in the Supreme Court before Justice Lawrence
                        and a jury. The plaintiff recalled in rebuttal denied
                        that William Girod had any conversation with her mother in
                        which her mother admitted the validity of Mr Anderson's
                        will. John Charles Anderson never supported her or gave
                        her dresses, except some that had been worn by his daughter.

                        Felix McCloskey declared that John Charles Anderson's
                        statement that the witness did not enjoy the confidence of the
                        dead millionaire was untrue. Several questions asked by
                        ex-Judge Curtis, counsel for the plaintiff, were ruled out. Among
                        these were inquiries whether John Anderson had referred to
                        Peter B. Sweeny as a ringleader of the Tweed "ring;"
                        whether Sweeny had told the witness that he would not
                        nominate Anderson for Mayor because he was crazy and that
                        Anderson had offered him $50,000 for the nomination of himself
                        for Mayor, and $100,000 for the nomination of Justice
                        George G. Barnard, his son-in-law, for governor; whether
                        Sweeny said the Mary Roger's scandal would defeat Anderson
                        and that Anderson was crazy on the subject; and whether
                        he had been told by John Anderson that he had given Edgar
                        A. Poe $5,000 to write the story of "Marie Roget" in order
                        to divert suspicion from himself. On various points the witness
                        contradicted the witnesses on the other side.

                        Dt, Matthew D. Field, examined as an expert in insanity
                        cases, in reply to a hypothetical question embodying the
                        testimony for the plaintiff in regard to John Anderson's delusions,
                        said that a man entertaining such views must be insane.
                        Ex-Judge Arnoux asked Justice Lawrence to direct a verdict for
                        the defendants, which was refused. The case will be given
                        to the Jury to-day.


                        Another paper's account.

                        New York Sun, June 03, 1887, Page 4, Column 2

                        Scandal of Tweed's Day
                        A story that John Anderson Offered a Bribe to Peter B. Sweeney

                        Felix McCloskey was a witness again yesterday
                        in the case before Judge Lawrence in which Mary
                        Maud Watson is trying to break the will of her grand
                        father John Anderson the tobacconist. Mr Curtis
                        asked the witness whether Peter B Sweeney had told
                        him that he Sweeney would not nominate John Anderson
                        for Mayor because Anderson was crazy; that Anderson
                        had offered him (Sweeney) $50,000 for the nomination
                        of himself for Mayor and $100,000 for the nomination
                        of George C. Barnard, his son-in-law, for Governor.
                        The question was ruled out. McCloskey was also
                        prevented from telling whether Sweeney said that the
                        Mary Rogers scandal would defeat Anderson, and that
                        Anderson was crazy upon the subject. Mr McCloskey
                        was not allowed to answer a question as to whether he
                        had been told by John Anderson that he had given
                        Edgar Allan Poe $5,000 to write the "Mystery of Marie
                        Roget" in order to allay the suspicion that Anderson
                        murdered Mary Rogers. Judge Lawrence refused
                        yesterday to direct a verdict for the defendant and the
                        case will be summed up today.



                        • A letter Poe wrote when he was shopping "Marie Roget."

                          The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Volume 17 (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1902), Pages 112-113
                          By Edgar Allan Poe

                          POE TO ROBERTS.

                          (From the Collection of Mr. F. R Halsey.)

                          Philadelphia, June 4, 1842.

                          My Dear Sir, —- It is just possible that you may have seen a tale of mine entitled "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," and published originally, in "Graham's Magazine" for April, 1841. Its theme was the exercise of ingenuity in the detection of a murderer. I have just completed a similar article, which I shall entitle "The Mystery of Marie Roget—-a Sequel to the Murders in the Rue Morgue." The story is based upon the assassination of Mary Cecilia Rogers, which created so vast an excitement, some months ago, in New York. I have, however, handled my design in a manner altogether novel in literature. I have imagined a series of nearly exact coincidences occurring in Paris. A young grisette, one Marie Roget, has been murdered under precisely similar circumstances with Mary Rogers. Thus, under pretence of showing how Dupin (the hero of "The Rue Morgue") unravelled the mystery of Marie's assassination, I, in reality, enter into a very long and rigorous analysis of the New York tragedy. No point is omitted. I examine, each by each, the opinions and arguments of the press upon the subject, and show that this subject has been, hitherto, unapproached. In fact I believe not only that I have demonstrated the fallacy of the general idea-—that the girl was the victim of a gang of ruffians-—but have indicated the assassin in a manner which will give renewed impetus to investigation. My main object, nevertheless, as you will readily understand, is an analysis of the true principles which should direct inquiry in similar cases. From the nature of the subject, I feel convinced that the article will excite attention, and it has occurred to me that you would be willing to purchase it for the forthcoming Mammoth Notion. It will make 25 pages of Graham's Magazine, and, at the usual price, would be worth to me $100. For reasons, however, which I need not specify, I am desirous of having this tale printed in Boston, and, if you like it, I will say $50. Will you please write me upon this point? —- by return mail, if possible.

                          Yours very truly,

                          Edgar A. Poe.

                          George Roberts, Esqr.


                          The first appearance of "Roget."

                          The Ladies' Companion, November, 1842, Pages 15-20

                          The Mystery of Marie Roget
                          A Sequel to "The Murders in the Rue Morgue"
                          [Part I]

                          by Edgar A. Poe

                          The Ladies' Companion, December, 1842, Pages 93-99

                          The Mystery of Marie Roget
                          A Sequel to "The Murders in the Rue Morgue"
                          [Part II]

                          by Edgar A. Poe

                          The Ladies' Companion, February, 1843, Pages 162-167

                          The Mystery of Marie Roget
                          A Sequel to "The Murders in the Rue Morgue"
                          [Part III]

                          by Edgar A. Poe


                          • An advertisement for an interesting sounding pamphlet about the Rogers case from 1841.

                            New York Tribune, August 10, 1841, Page 2, Column 5


                            Life and Murder of Mary C. Rogers, the beautiful
                            Cigar Girl, in pamphlet form, with a splendid Portrait, declared to be
                            a perfect likeness, will be published at 21 Ann-street this morning at
                            6 o'clock, with further particulars of the Murder, the knowledge of
                            which is confined to the Police and the writer of this pamphlet. Nine
                            persons, Broadway Gamblers, supposed to be concerned in the Murder;
                            State's evidence expected. The Life is full of interest: it
                            contains an account of several attempts at courtship aud seduction,
                            brought about her by manifold charms; as also of the early attachments
                            in which she was known to have been engaged. Price 6 cents.

                            Sunday Times Office, 31 Ann-st


                            Link to a 1904 article by humorist turned criminologist William Montgomery Clemens which critiques the views of both Inspector Thomas Byrnes and Poe. I don't know if Clemens or his editor is responsible for misspelling Poe's middle name.

                            The Era Magazine: An Illustrated Monthly, Volume 14, November, 1904, Pages 450-463

                            The Tragedy of Mary Rogers

                            Solution of the Mystery Made Historic by Edgar Allen [sic] Poe

                            by Will M. Clemens

                            A new wrinkle introduced by Clemens is this notice he found about a coroner's inquest on a man found drowned. Clemens argues that the man was murdered with Rogers.

                            Page 462

                            In the New York newspapers of August 5, 1841, I find this obscure item: "On August 3, the body of an unknown man, about thirty-five years of age, was found floating near the foot of Barclay Street. The body had been in the water for some days and was badly decomposed. The unknown was a tall, swarthy man, and had on when found a white shirt, silk vest, dark pantaloons, 'morocco' shoes and worsted hose. The coat was missing. The coroner's jury returned a verdict of found drowned."


                            Here's a version of this notice from the Tribune.

                            New York Tribune, August 04, 1841, Page 2, Column 4

                            Coroner's Office

                            The Coroner yesterday held, an inquest
                            at No. 198 Front st. on the body of an unknown man aged about
                            40, found floating in the East River at the foot of Catharine st.
                            He had been in the water several days, and was clad in morocco
                            shoes, worsted hose, dark cloth pantaloons, white shirt and
                            satin vest. Verdict, found drowned.


                            Like to a later magazine article which mentions the Clemens article.

                            The Scrap Book, Volume 9, June, 1910, Pages 801-817

                            The Mystery of Mary Rogers
                            by Frank Marshall White


                            • In a 1978 collection of Poe's tales, editor Thomas Ollive Mabbott discusses the story that John Anderson paid Poe to write Marie Roget. Mabbott mentions that Anderson in 1845 advertised in the Broadway Journal, which was edited by Poe at the time. Here's a link to Mabbott's essay. The discussion of Anderson is on pages 720-721. (The page numbers are embedded in the text.)

                              A link to page 720 in the Google books preview of a 2000 edition of Mabbott's collection.

                              Edgar Allan Poe: Tales and Sketches: Volume 2: 1843-1849 (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2000), Pages 720-721
                              By Edgar Allan Poe, Thomas Ollive Mabbott, Eleanor D. Kewer

                              Mabbott cites this article:

                              New York Tribune, May 27, 1887, Page 2, Column 5

                              They All Thought Anderson Sane
                              Mr. Achenberg Gives Some Information about Mary Rogers

                              Much of the testimony presented in the Supreme Court
                              before Justice Lawrence and a jury yesterday, in the
                              suit of Mrs. Maud Watson, granddaughter of John
                              Anderson, the millionaire, against Messrs. Phyfe and
                              Campbell, the present owners of property in which she
                              claimes an interest was of a negative character. Ex-Judge
                              Hooper C. Van Vorst testified that while he was a
                              tenant of John Anderson he had ocasional converstaions
                              with him on business matters, and found him a shrewd
                              and careful business man. "I did not regard him as a
                              very liberal landlord," the witness said. "None but
                              absolutely necessary repairs were made. I regarded him
                              as rational."

                              Amos R. Clark, a neighbor of Mr. Anderson at Tarrytown,
                              during five years; acquaintance saw nothing irrational
                              in him, and never heard him speak of Garibaldi,
                              Mary Rogers, or ghosts.

                              Andrew C. Wheeler, known in journalism as "Nym
                              Crinkle," testified that while living at Tarrytown he had
                              frequent conversations with Mr. Anderson, whom he
                              once asked whether his house was haunted. The reply
                              was: "The only people who haunt me are those
                              who want money." Mr. Anderson was not
                              boastful or grandiloquent and never made an irrational
                              remark. In 1880 Mr. Anderson furnished money for a
                              Democratic newspaper, of which the witness was editor.
                              It lasted only a year and cost Mr. Anderson from $6,000
                              to $8,000. The witness had heard him speak of the case
                              of Mary Rogers, referring to the "Marie Roget" of Edgar
                              A. Poe. He did not know that Mr. Anderson paid Poe to
                              write the story in order to divert suspicion from himself,
                              nor did he know that Mr. Anderson was arrested at Saratoga.
                              The witness's daughter was once engaged to
                              marry the step-son of Mrs. Anderson, and the witness
                              came to court at her request.

                              Josiah F. Kendall, Benson Ferris, Abram E. Revere
                              and David Silverman, all of Tarrytown, never saw
                              anything irrational in Mr. Anderson. David Armstrong,
                              who bought material for Mr. Anderson's house at Tarrytown,
                              explained the working of the steel shutters with
                              which the house was provided.

                              William H. Hike and Robert H. Archenburg bore testimony
                              to Mr. Anderson's business ability. Mr. Archenburg gave
                              the following sketch of Mary Rogers:

                              She was a young woman employed in Mr. Anderson's cigar
                              store, who disappeared in the year 1847 [sic]. She was very
                              attractive--in fact, just the person to draw the trade of the
                              young men. This is what Mr. Anderson had her for, I suppose.
                              I believe she was the first girl ever employed at a
                              New-York cigar stand. I have known young men in Albany
                              to promise themselves that upon reaching New-York
                              they would go to Anderson's store and buy cigars from
                              Mary. I even went myself before I knew John. (Laughter.)

                              Cross-examined, the witness said that John Anderson
                              was not disposed to talk of Mary Rogers when her name
                              was mentioned after the mysterious discovery of her
                              murdered body in Hoboken.

                              Alfred Wagstaff, husband of Mrs. Mary A. Wagstaff, a
                              granddaughter of Mr. Anderson, identified Mr. Anderson's
                              signature to a letter dated "Isle of Wright, October 9,
                              1871," addressed to William Girod, in which he asked:
                              "Is McCloskey one of the seventy? If so, they have begun
                              in high places."

                              The trial goes on today.


                              A 1922 letter by Mabbott.

                              The New York Herald, November 22, 1922, Page 10, Column 5

                              Poe's "Marie Roget"

                              Did it Give the Final Solution of the Mystery of Mary Rogers?

                              To The New York Herald: Miss
                              Edith Anderson's recent letter on Poe's
                              solution of "The Mystery of Marie
                              Itoget" leads me to call attention to an
                              article, "The Tragedy of Mary Rogers,"
                              by Will M. Clemens in the Era magazine
                              of November, 1904. Therein the
                              author shows that Poe's solution cannot
                              be accepted in view of all the known
                              facts and that the confession of which
                              Poe speaks in his note is not entitled
                              to full belief.

                              It is probable tbat Mary Rogers's
                              male companion instead of being her
                              murderer shared her fate and that the
                              motive of the crime was robbery. I
                              note that Poe's words are somewhat
                              guarded in his motto and note and he
                              emphasizes his correctness about details
                              according to the confession. Actually
                              Poe's destructive criticism in destroying
                              several absurd theories might have
                              proved valuable, but some very important
                              evidence was not accessible to him,
                              and tends to discredit the confession,
                              which was made by the mother of the
                              three probable assassins in such a fashion
                              as to throw suspicion on nobody
                              by name and take it away from her

                              Nobody was ever convicted of the
                              crime and Poe's story should be regarded
                              as a remarkably logical story
                              based on a small nucleus of fact and
                              pointing out obvious errors in other
                              solutions, but in itself must be read
                              only as a story and not a complete or
                              final solution of the mystery.

                              Thomas Ollive Mabbott

                              Columbia University, November 21.



                              • Publishing and Crime

                                Tradename-- I'd like to say thank you for all the wonderful information you've posted over the last few years. I found your work on Springmuhl of Hopein fame and it has kept me busy for nearly a year now.

                                A while ago a poster mentioned that they couldn't see where all this information is going, and I'd like to throw in a thought to that point:

                                There seem to have been connections between some Anglo-American publishers and international organized crime.

                                Crime against sexually available women was often featured and sometimes facts obscured by publishers, almost as if they intended to protect perps while being excited by sex crime themselves.

                                A great deal of international organized crime at this time was prostitution, the so-called "White Slave Trade". Lots of money was made from that racket. Publishing is another facet of the entertainment industry; pornography is its underbelly.

                                I would be very interested to hear Tradename's opinion on what I see as an overall trend in this evidence.