Spring-heeled Jack

19th-century London was a scary place. It was the century that the city grew to become what was, at the time, the world's largest capital city and the capital of the British Empire. The population of London swelled from over 1 million in 1801 to just over 6 million by the end of the century. It was industrialising quickly, with the Port of London creating a need for shipyards and factories unlike anything seen before. Housing hit critical mass for the lower-middle classes, with thousands of people being crammed into small, cramped lodgings that practically and literally sat one on top of another. The factories spewed forth industrial smoke, making the view ever-misty, always smoky, limiting visibility.

Into this claustrophobic hellscape leapt a new villain, one that was neither man nor monster, but something of both.

This is the story of Spring-heeled Jack.

Also known as "The Terror of London" and Spring-heeled Jumping Jack (or just Jumping Jack), Spring-heeled Jack went from fanciful tale to terrifying urban legend in the space of a single year.

First reported in 1837 by one Mary Stevens, Spring-heeled Jack's earliest attacks were strangely random. Mary's account told of a bizarre character who leapt at her from the darkness in an alleyway and assaulted her, attempting to kiss her and tearing her clothing with "claws". She said his flesh was "cold and clammy as those of a corpse". Jack made his escape in this instance not by leaping away at the sound of her scream, but by fleeing as a person would.

He was at it again the very next day, this time leaping out and scaring the heck out of a coach driver, who was injured in the subsequent crash. On that occasion, however, multiple witnesses claim he escaped by vaulting a 2.7m (9ft) wall, all the while cackling with a "high-pitched, ringing laughter".

The news of these bizarre attacks soon hit the press, and the creature was officially given the name "Spring-heeled Jack".

At first, the authorities laughed at the reports, describing them as "the greatest exaggerations", but nevertheless, people were being injured, and eventually they were forced to take action. By 1838, the police had been instructed to search for the responsible party, with rewards offered for his capture.

Spring-heeled Jack was now a legitimate threat, but consider that he was also the perfect monster for the backdrop of the rapidly burgeoning, newly industrial London - a phantom leaping from dark, smoky gloom and leaping away like a devil in the night.

There were two more accounts of note: the first from a girl named Jane Alsop who reported encountering Spring-heeled Jack on the evening of 19 February, 1838. On that night, she answered the door to someone claiming to be a police officer, asking her to bring a light, but when she returned with a candle for them, the individual threw off the large cloak they were wearing and "presented a most hideous and frightful appearance". He spewed blue and white flames from his mouth, his eyes glowing red like "red balls of fire" before attacking her with his claws. She screamed, and her sister came to her aid, leaving Jack to flee into the night, but not before Miss Alsop got a pretty good look at him. It is from her that much of his known description comes. She reported that beneath the cloak, he wore a large helmet and tight-fitting clothing that resembled white oilskin. She also said she was certain the claws were made of "some metallic substance".

Nine days later, on the 28th February 1838, the second account of note took place when 18-year-old Lucy Scales encountered this spectre haunting the newly urbanised London. In her report to police, she said she and her sister were heading down an alley when they noted a person standing a little further along. When they came abreast of the cloaked person, he spurted "a quantity of blue flame" into her face, which temporarily blinded her and sent her into a violent seizure which continued for several hours. Miss Scales was still in the thrall of these fits when their brother arrived, finding Lucy on the ground and their sister attempting to support her head. Lucy's sister explained what had happened, describing their assailant as being tall, thin, of gentlemanly appearance, covered in a large cloak and carrying a small lamp or bull's-eye lantern.

After these encounters, sightings of Spring-heeled Jack became moderately common and in spite of only one of these early attacks mentioning the ability to leap supernaturally high, it seemed nearly every subsequent report had Jack making his escape by leaping away over fences and even small buildings, cackling his unusual laugh all the while.

There were many rumours of who this fiend was, and a cornucopia of suspects were named. One popular rumour from 1840 was that it was the Marquis of Waterford, known in local circles as "the Mad Marquis" because society considered his behaviour "wild", but no one ever said he was violent, and Spring-heeled Jack certainly was. Several men were arrested as suspects, but always, Jack returned, even when these men were incarcerated, thereby "proving" their innocence.

In 1904, 67 years after his first appearance, Spring-heeled Jack was seen for the last time in Liverpool, bounding up and down the streets by leaping from cobbles to rooftops and back. He eventually vanished into the darkness and smog and was never seen again.

There’s no explanation for why he disappeared, except the possibility that it simply fell out of fashion. Perhaps he died? Maybe he moved to a different country? Perhaps it was when the smog began to thin and people’s imaginations weren’t running quite as wild.

In my books, the reason Spring-heeled Jack disappeared is that he was apprehended by the International Paranormal Response and imprisoned in Gehenna for drawing attention to the supernatural world.

Of course, modern eyes viewing these events immediately tend to assume some kind of mass hysteria: a mugging version of "the one that got away" where each victim makes their encounter grander and more fanciful than the last, allowing their fear to remember rather than their logic. This would mean there was never just one Spring-heeled Jack, but many: anyone who attacked anyone on those dark and gloomy streets could potentially be the next instalment in the building of that Urban Legend.

And that may be the case. It certainly makes a certain measure of sense. It would explain how Jack managed to remain so spry across 67 years. It might also explain why he suddenly disappeared - as the legend fell from favour and people became distracted by other interests, it was no longer fashionable to encounter the Terror of London.

But what if it wasn't the case? What if Jumping Jack was just one entity the whole time, and none of it was exaggerated at all? Many of those who described his feats were considered credible witnesses at the time - that's why the police finally took it seriously. Was he even human at all, or some phantom conjured from the smoke and misery of overpopulation and wretched working conditions? Something more supernatural than natural?

Ultimately, the identity (or identities) of Spring-heeled Jack can never be known. He remains to this day a fascinating footnote in history and one of the most famous "phantom attackers" in history!

What do you think he was? A tall tale? Mass hallucination? An inventive but mischievous prankster?

Or something darker?