One Incontrovertible, Unequivocal, Undeniable Fact Which Refutes the Diary

[Iconoclast]

"Yes, officer, I did recently acquire a Victorian diary, you're right".
"Could I see it, sir?"
"Yes, of course, here it is. Can I ask why you wanted to know?"
"Yes, we've had a report that you - knowingly or unknowingly - purchased a diary of Jack the Ripper recently and the rightful owner would like it back".
"Well, he or she is welcome to mine if they want but - as you can see - it's really small and it has no entries in so I don't know how they could know it was Jack the Ripper's?"
"Fair point, sir. I really don't think this is what we're looking for. Here you go. Sorry for bothering you."
"No problem, occifer." [Hic].

'Similar' never necessarily equals 'the same'.

[Scott Nelson]

My main concern with your scenario is why would anyone just sit on it for decades? It’s one of the same issues I have with Anne’s provenance. If you have this thing purported to be Jack the Ripper’s diary, do you not at least try and get it authenticated / dismissed by some kind of expert?

Aldo, Eddie Lyons just telling Mike he was working on Maybrick’s house does not offer him anything new. He could have been aware of Maybrick’s house and the story of James Maybrick being poisoned. Or are you saying he had the rippers diary but no idea who James Maybrick was until Eddie told him he had been working on his house? Putting two and two together?

In the roughly 15 years since I think the old diary was pulled out of a skip and taken to Rupert Crew, it probably sat on a shelf somewhere until Devereux found it. I think his rewrite probably occurred post-1988 when the Michael Caine/Abberline program was broadcast. Then he passes it on to Barrett, telling him it's a real story, but not who it's about. Mike eventually figures out the story is about Maybrick and when Eddie, who was aware Mike had the diary, tells him a story he just heard from a colleague working at Dodd's house about a book being thrown into (and recovered from) a skip years earlier, Mike knows it's the 'real thing.'

At least that's how I imagine it would have transpired.

[rjpalmer]

"Yes, officer, I did recently acquire a Victorian diary, you're right".

A Scouser steps into a boozer and buys an unknown Thomas Gainsborough for twenty quid.

'I found it under the floorboards,' the bloke whispered, blinking wildly.

Once home, the Scouser is suddenly struck with terror that the local plod might learn about the transaction, so he rings an art shop in Oxford and orders a piece of blank canvas.

'It must be at least two foot blank,' he croaks.

Congratulations, Ike.

Even in his long career of blarney and bilge, Bongo Barrett never weaved such a ludicrous apologia, and yet you've drummed-up three or four takers for your 'doppelganger' theory.

With each passing week I'm less and less amazed that a Texan very nearly paid $190,000 for Albert's watch. He literally transferred the money into a British bank before the unmistakable odor of fish finally reached his nostrils.

[Iconoclast]

Goodness, I wonder at the stupidity of a man buying a knock-off Gainsborough and then seeking to purchase a blank frame from 1780-1790 (the latter, two years after he died) with which he is going to claim to the polis, "Yes, here's the Gainsborough that I bought".

I know our polis are not exactly savants, but I can't help suspecting that one or two of them might observe that it's not actually a Gainsborough at all, nor indeed a painting at all.

Or was the guy who enquired after a blank frame planning to hoax a Gainsborough in order to protect his ownership of his hockey one?

[Iconoclast]

It's nit-picking around the edges, probably, but I'm unaware of an offer of $190,000 for the watch. I was only aware of mooted offers of $40,000 and, subsequently, a claim by Feldman that Robbie Johnson had claimed an offer of $130,000.

As I say, at these amounts of money, the specific amount doesn't matter as it reflects not so much one Texan's gullibility and more the enticing promise of authenticity which James Maybrick's known signature - especially his idiosyncratic 'k' - promised.

I am ever intrigued by the inability of the scrapbook sillies to find an argument against its authenticity which no-one has managed to offer a meaningful counter to or to illustrate a contradiction within.

[rjpalmer]

I'm unaware of an offer of $190,000 for the watch.

Did you think I made it up, Ike? I'm shocked.

My source is Shirley Harrison, The American Connection, pg. 33. I've posted this before--and if memory serves, you commented on it before.





Admittedly, I am taking Harrison's word for the accuracy of this figure, but we also have in Albert's own writing a notation made sometime during his long, on-going negotiations with the Texan citing a figure over $125,000, and it would seem Honest Al knew how to strike a hard bargain.

It is not unusual to see the various Diary authors--Feldman, Harrison, Linder, Smith, Mitchell, etc.--give conflicting information, so there always remains a certain amount of doubt about who is, and who is not, accurate on these points.

[rjpalmer]

I know our polis are not exactly savants, but I can't help suspecting that one or two of them might observe that it's not actually a Gainsborough at all, nor indeed a painting at all.

And yet Barrett was such a --what was the phrase used by Alec Voller?--'mental vegetable' that when a bloke sold him an over-sized blue-black photo album with the Diary of Jack the Ripper scrawled in it over 63 pages, he immediately thought to call a bookseller in Oxford and order a generic blank Diary from the 1880s so he could wave it under Johnny Uprights nose if Eddie Lyons ever ratted him out.

As special pleading goes, this is utterly the bottom of the barrel. No criminal or gullible rube in the history of the world thinks that way, Ike, but if you think it's a good argument to bring before the 'court of history' by all means do so.

After all, it's all about belief, isn't it, no matter how unwarranted and ludicrous the belief might be?

And, anyway, who am I to argue with a man who compares himself to the Duracell bunny?



Have a great weekend, Ike.

[Iconoclast]

Oh readers, my dear readers!

What would you consider the more plausible, that a man might seek as a first line of defence an article with the principle characteristics of a Victorian diary so that he can at least say "Here's that Victorian 'diary' you've come looking for" or that such a man would seek a specific type of Victorian diary - from 1880-1890, to be precise - to hoax a diary of a man unequivocally and universally known to be well brown bread by the middle of 1889?

It's a difficult one, I know, dear readers, but those of you who are not amongst the unread, cognitively challenged class that occasionally frequent these pages will probably come to a similar conclusion - after a great deal of thought - that I came to.

[rjpalmer]

Oh readers, my dear readers!

What would you consider the more plausible, that a man might seek as a first line of defence an article with the principle characteristics of a Victorian diary so that he can at least say "Here's that Victorian 'diary' you've come looking for" or that such a man would seek a specific type of Victorian diary - from 1880-1890, to be precise - to hoax a diary of a man unequivocally and universally known to be well brown bread by the middle of 1889?

Well, Ike, I can't speak for the cognitively challenged--I'll leave that to you--but I think most rational people would realize that if a b.s. artist, ex-felon, swindler, and struggling freelance writer (who hid his career from the diary detectives) came forward with the dodgy Diary of Jack the Ripper in April, was discovered to have sought a blank Victorian Diary in March--and specifically insisted on a minimum number of blank pages that more or less coincides to the still unleased typescript of the said document found on his word processor--they would assume he did it to create the hoax.

On the other hand, I am fairly confident that in the vast annals of crime, you won't be able to come up with a single, solitary example of a man who bought a suspicious item from the back of a van (or the back of booth in a smoky pub) who immediately thought to run out and buy an unconvincing 'knock off' doppelgänger of the same item (even though it looks nothing like the same item) in case Johnny Law came knocking. You really haven't spent much time in the annals of crime, have you, Ike?

No one thinks that way, Ike--other than a Special Pleaders with an exceedingly desperate yet fertile imagination, but I'll rest easy until you can come up with an example from the real world that disproves my point.

And once again--when someone DID come knocking (Robert Smith)--and met Barrett in the pub with Eddie Lyons, did Barrett produce this 'doppelganger' and wave it in the air?

Did he $%&@. It suddenly slipped his mind!

It's the bottom of the garbage pail, Ike, but if you want to believe it, by all means do so.

[Iconoclast]

... discovered to have sought a blank Victorian Diary in March--and specifically insisted on a minimum number of blank pages that more or less coincides to the still unleased typescript of the said document found on his word processor--they would assume he did it to create the hoax.

Yep, that's right - "at least twenty" is definitely pretty much possibly maybe not-so the same as 63 pages of handwritten scrawl in the scrapbook, but even if this blatantly silly notion were true it would make an even greater mockery of the postage stamp diary he actually 'purchased' from 1891, a year unique amongst years ending in '1' at that point in time during which James Maybrick could not have written the Maybrick scrapbook (thereby seriously buggering-up Barrett's attempt at a hoax before he even got his wife to put pen to a paper).

Now, on that note, let us all remind ourselves of Barrett's hopes - he was looking for something to pass off as the scrapbook he had received in The Saddle, wasn't he? It's obvious, isn't it? So, would it have made sense to have asked for at least twenty blank pages which could have passed for those pages in the scrapbook still unwritten in? You just have to use your brain, I find, to work out what actually happened. He had a scrapbook with a number of blank pages at the end so the dream ticket would be something similar to show Plod if they plodded his way. He may not have got it, but he asked because he was covering his bases as they say in that brilliant sport, Rounders.

On the other hand, I am fairly confident that in the vast annals of crime, you won't be able to come up with a single, solitary example of a man who bought a suspicious item from the back of a van (or the back of booth in a smoky pub) who immediately thought to run out and buy an unconvincing 'knock off' doppelgänger of the same item (even though it looks nothing like the same item) in case Johnny Law came knocking. You really haven't spent much time in the annals of crime, have you, Ike?

You're absolutely right, I couldn't come up with another example of Mike Barrett seeking to create a believable record of a world famous criminal's crimes. You see, it is only Mike Barrett's psychology in early March 1992 that matters here, not the rest of the human race's. I'd have thought that was pretty obvious given that it was he who had received the Maybrick scrapbook. What would be really helpful here would be if someone could enumerate the thousands of times that someone brought a hookey but genuine journal of a famous criminal to the market and did not have a back-up article in case whoever had hookeyed it blabbed along the way. I personally suspect it has never happened and - even if it had - how could we be certain that they did not indeed seek such an artefact to pass off as the real thing? It's moot, though, isn't it, because it's only ever happened with Mike Barrett and James Maybrick's scrapbook.

No one thinks that way, Ike--other than a Special Pleaders with an exceedingly desperate yet fertile imagination, but I'll rest easy until you can come up with an example from the real world that disproves my point.

The best example I can think of from the real world is the only one any of us knows - Mike Barrett who brought James Maybrick's scrapbook to the market but before he did sought a similar sort of article should anyone come asking for it. That's the only reason I can think of for such a man to seek a diary from 1890 and accept one from 1891, but if anyone else thinks that would have been rational if he were attempting a hoax, do drop us all a postcard from Carstairs.

And once again--when someone DID come knocking (Robert Smith)--and met Barrett in the pub with Eddie Lyons, did Barrett produce this 'doppelganger' and wave it in the air?

Oh, what a shame, Muddy the Mud Boy has reared-up once again from the gooey mess that is his rightful home. By April 13, 1992, Barrett had shown James Maybrick's scrapbook to Rupert Crew Ltd., thereby massively reducing the relevance of producing a similar item should anyone ask for it. By the time Robert Smith 'came knocking' in April, May, or June of 1993 (I forget off the top of my head which actual month it was), Smith himself had long since bought the rights to publish James Maybriock's scrapbook so - pray tell - what would be the point of Barrett waving his tiny wee red diary around The Saddle?

It suddenly slipped his mind!

Yes, indeed. It suddenly slipped his mind in the spring of 1993 to pretend that he didn't own the actual scrapbook of James Maybrick revealing him to have been Jack the Ripper which the guy on his right had found under the floorboards of Battlecrease House on March 9, 1992, and which the guy on his left had paid £50,000 to publish in June 1992.

It's the bottom of the garbage pail, Ike, but if you want to believe it, by all means do so.

I'm not sure which bit I'm supposed to think blows the Maybrick hoax out of the water in the pail, though?

[rjpalmer]

Yep, that's right - "at least twenty" is definitely pretty much possibly maybe not-so the same as 63 pages of handwritten scrawl in the scrapbook, but even if this blatantly silly notion were true it would make an even greater mockery of the postage stamp diary he actually 'purchased' from 1891

You're off to such a poor start here, Ike, that I can't be bothered to read the rest of your essay.

This is ex-post facto reasoning of the worst sort.

The finished product that turned up in London in April was 63 pages of handwritten scrawl (often written large and with unnecessary waste of paper) but this has no bearing on what a hoaxer of the yet unwritten document would have wanted to seek out in March.

Obviously, the hoaxer could have adapted his pre-existing notes and/or manuscript to fit whatever Victorian/Edwardian memo book, photograph album, etc. that he could drum up.

You must simply learn to think more clearly, Ike--to cultivate what the poet Keats called 'negative capability'---an ability to put yourself into the mindset of the actors in our little drama, in this case, the hoaxer Michael John Barrett.

Keith Skinner has kindly informed us that the still uncirculated typescript of the hoax was 29 pages in length--not 63 pages-- and, as I say, the hoaxer could have adapted this typescript after he found the suitable raw materials.

The ambiguity of 'at least twenty blank pages' does not allow us to know whether Barrett wanted 20 blanks sheets, or 20 blank double-sided sheets (ie., 40 pages--which is the precise length of the typescript in one of Shirley Harrison's editions).

Adios. I probably shouldn't have even responded, but I had some time to kill. Like goldfish in a bowl, we're going over the same stale ground. Which rather reminds me of a famous Roger Waters song.

---

[rjpalmer]

Oh, what a shame, Muddy the Mud Boy has reared-up once again from the gooey mess that is his rightful home. By April 13, 1992, Barrett had shown James Maybrick's scrapbook to Rupert Crew Ltd., thereby massively reducing the relevance of producing a similar item should anyone ask for it. By the time Robert Smith 'came knocking' in April, May, or June of 1993 (I forget off the top of my head which actual month it was), Smith himself had long since bought the rights to publish James Maybriock's scrapbook so - pray tell - what would be the point of Barrett waving his tiny wee red diary around The Saddle?

Because, my dear полезный идиот, Robert Smith himself has claimed that Eddie Lyons told him at that meeting that he DID find a book at Dodd's house.

Your entire unconvincing theory is that Barrett sought a blank diary for this eventuality, and here was a chance to immediate dispel the relevancy of Eddie's discovery by producing the book that he had supposedly dug out of the non-existent skip---a 1891 red memorandum book.

It's your theory, Ike---not mine--that you can't make it make any sense to an impartial viewer is hardly my problem.

In the end, Robert Smith apparently wanted it both ways. He quickly dismissed Eddie's alleged admission and failed to return the diary to Mr. Dodd, yet years later (2017) he nonetheless resurrected the Eddie's alleged admission to argue for the diary's authenticity.

One CAN have one's cake and eat it, too.

[Iconoclast]

Your entire unconvincing theory is that Barrett sought a blank diary for this eventuality, and here was a chance to immediate dispel the relevancy of Eddie's discovery by producing the book that he had supposedly dug out of the non-existent skip---a 1891 red memorandum book.
It's your theory, Ike---not mine--that you can't make it make any sense to an impartial viewer is hardly my problem.

Honestly, dear readers, this is absolutely classic Muddy the Mud Boy glorying in the mussiest of mud baths!

Suddenly - absolutely out of nowhere - completely ex nihilo as only an entire universe of mud could conjure, Muddy has me arguing that Eddie Lyons was referring to the little red 1891 diary when he said he slung an old book into a skip which didn't exist. How much mud must it take to confuse a simple story such as mine!

Or did he argue it out of embarrassment when he realised what an utterly facile argument he had attempted to get away with in the first place?

So, to be clear before this mud sticks, Barrett got the Maybrick scrapbook from Eddie Lyons in The Saddle in March 1992 and only then did he need a similar item should anyone come a-knocking for the original back. We don't have to know the ins and outs of Barrett's reasoning - he simply had to reason it, and that would be his right to then do whatever he felt he wanted to do and no amount of naysaying nonsense from Muddy should alter your understanding of this. It is not for Muddy to declare that no-one else on the planet would have done this or anything similar, though he needs to claim it in order to pursue an argument he knows he's losing.

Fifteen or so months later, Robert Smith knew exactly what Maybrick's scrapbook looked like as he had agreed to pay a whopping £50,000 for the right to publish it and although he dropped that value dramatically after the viper Harris got his teeth into the viper Rendall, I am willing to bet that he knew exactly what it looked like so Mike waving a pathetically small red 1891 diary around in The Saddle when Robert met Eddie Lyons was really not going to end well.

Not one of Muddy's finest hours, I'd venture, dear readers ...

[rjpalmer]

This case does so love a good coincidence ...

RE: J. M. Jack. May I propose...

James Masterson Jack

Born Apr 1867

Crewe, Cheshire East Unitary Authority, Cheshire, England

Died 25 Mar 1912

Lancashire, England

Kirkdale Cemetery

Liverpool, Metropolitan Borough of Liverpool, Merseyside, England

J. M. Jack lived at No. 22 Brasenose Road, Bootle, at the time of his death, listed in the 1911 Census as a general laborer, living with his parents, George and Helen Jack.

If you take the key around to Brasenose Road you might still be able to get into the outbuilding, unless they changed the locks in the past 112 years.

The difference between 'good coincidence' and 'total irrelevancy' escapes me, Ike, but then as you frequently note, I dwell in the land of mud.

[Iconoclast]

RE: J. M. Jack. May I propose...
The difference between 'good coincidence' and 'total irrelevancy' escapes me, Ike, but then as you frequently note, I dwell in the land of mud.

The difference escapes me too as I hadn't previously considered it. I was merely commenting on the rather obvious fact (not opinion - remember, you can have personal opinions but you can't have personal facts) that an old bag with the name J.M. Jack on it and an old key in it turned up in Liverpool. That's definitely a coincidence (and a coincidence means that there are no causal links involved, you'll recall).

I would put it to you that you live in the same land as the rest of us, only you chose the muddiest of mud baths to muddle your way through life ...