So many of us are both fascinated and entranced by things that are aesthetically Victorian—brass architectural details, clockwork jewelry, aggressive syphilis, unregulated industrial toxins, etc. Unfortunately, we don’t all have the luxury of being dead, so in hindsight, here is one of the coolest and weirdest whodunits since ever.
The reports of this bizarre leaping demonic figure were first reported around 1837 and ended around 1934—oddly, almost the exact same tenure as Queen Victoria herself. However, he was far more rakish than she, reportedly. Hard to say, though, as the appetites of monarchs have been known to be grotesque at times.
What comes off as most interesting about the reports of this bouncing demon is that there didn’t appear to be a goal for his antics. He never really demanded anything or lifted purses. He didn’t steal the virtue (such as it was) from young women. He didn’t appear to be overcome with a ferocious bloodlust, and he didn’t pillage, commit major arson, or start a pitchfork mob. (That was easy back then, right?). By all accounts, he just leaped menacingly about, occasionally causing minor injury and a definite need for an opium pipe or a snifter of brandy, perhaps both.
Jack’s first sightings were just rumors of a vague and menacing something occurring in the south of London and the villages around the area in the late months leading up to 1837. Some said a bear, some a spirit or ghostly force, some a devil, and some thought a nobleman was basically trolling the lower class for shits and giggles—leaping out and frightening folks just because they could. Basically, frat bros, 200 years removed.
A young woman, Jane Alsop, reported that on the evening of February 19, 1838, a policeman came to her door demanding she fetch a light because "for God’s sake," they’d just caught his reportedly nefarious "Spring-Heeled Jack down the lane." She hurried back into her home and brought a candle out. She noted this "policeman" was garbed in a long black coat and appeared official until she handed him the candle. Upon doing so, he shed his cloak and "vomited forth" a spew of blue and white flames, and his eyes turned to red balls of fire. Cool trick, bruh, but I bet David Blaine could do that underwater in chains after three months without food, so, like, chill.
Chill he did not, because after disposing of his cloak, he grabbed her and tore her dress with what she described as "metallic" claws. He seemed to be wearing some sort of helmet, and a suit likened to "white oilskins." I could Google it, or I could sort of imagine it as a Clockwork Orange thing. Codpieces and eyeliner. We’re going with the latter.
She ripped herself away from the miscreant, but he caught up with her again, tearing and slashing at her, barely in time for her sister to rush outside and save her. Though her wounds weren’t life-threatening, he had slashed at her shoulders, neck, and arm with no apparent goal. Indiscriminate, oddly cruel, and yet only vaguely malicious. Additionally, he had seemed to hold a candle "to his chest" at a point—perhaps to fuel the strange blue flames that he expelled? Maybe a time-traveling emo? It’s hard to say. When I personally vomit blue flames, it’s generally because of either vodka or Taco Bell, FWIW.
In another "attack," eight days later, on February 28, an 18-year-old girl named Lucy (who was returning home from a trip with her sister) passed an alley where she and her brother were accosted by a man lurking in an alley. He reportedly spewed a blue flame in her face that made her erupt in fits. Sure. I know why I don’t remember Friday, but whatever. Her description appears to be generally similar to the previous assailant. The nefarious attacker seemed to have no further desire for evil than to spring upon someone and give them a fright, as the brother who rushed up noted. Nothing was swiped, no one was killed, etc.
As time went on, several additional attacks were similarly reported: A mysterious and menacing man with claws, spewing blue fire, with flaming or red eyes, wearing a cape and leaping on roofs, bounding around improbably, with metal claws, red eyes, and occasionally bearing even more unrealistic features that seemed to prefer to spring upon people and tear them with metallic claws, rather than do any lasting damage or harm. Sometimes reported as having chemical fumes or haunting sounds, some attacks were reported as having aspects that sound almost futuristic. Was he a rakish visitor out of time? A Victorian supervillain? A proto-troll looking to raise hell? It remains unclear. No one was murdered or even seriously injured, but somehow, this Jack (as opposed to the arguably cooler ripper) was still in the forefront of the news of the time, as his odd visage was so unique and bizarre.
I maintain we need more criminals like this. Not breaking laws for personal gain, and not for malice, but just because it’s fun.
Esmeralda Rupp-Spangle was actually born in 1814—fact check it and try to argue. She can be found on Instagram as @EsmeraldaSilentCitadel if you feel like throwing rotten tomatoes or asteroids at her.
