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The London Medicine is the sequel to Funny Little Games in which celebrity composer Michael Maybrick, well-connected in royal and masonic circles, was exposed at the notorious Whitechapel serial killer JACK THE RIPPER, revealed by deciphering his self-styled funny little games. The personal vendetta against prostitutes was over and Michael Maybrick was free to continue furthering his ambitions for fame and fortune, but a persistent problem had yet to be resolved. There remained a nagging belief that his brother James suspected his nefarious activities, as perhaps did his wife Florence, despised by Michael as an adulteress. There could only be one solution. The London Medicine.
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PHILIP DAVIES
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The London Medicine is the sequel to Funny Little Games, essential reading before reading this ongoing saga of celebrity musical composer Michael Maybrick. Born in Liverpool, Maybrick travelled Europe as an operatic baritone, before settling in London where he achieved celebrity status as a musical composer, achieving a high rank within Freemasonry, and mixing in influential social circles, including royalty.
But Michael Maybrick had a darker side, a narcissist with a dual personality and psychiatric disorder caused by an adolescent encounter with a Liverpool prostitute. Michael Maybrick was none other than the notorious Jack the Ripper, the serial killer responsible for murdering numerous prostitutes on the streets of Whitechapel. The victims met their deaths as the consequence of Maybrick’s self-styled ‘funny little games’, in which they were carefully selected by their names, from which were plucked a gradually evolving anagram of Michael Maybrick’s own name. A vengeful and macabre exorcism of his adolescent trauma, a deeply satisfying self revelation of his own name, in a code known only by the killer himself.
Now the mission was complete, the panic in Whitechapel had subsided, and all should have boded well for Michael Maybrick, destined for fame and fortune, with a knighthood in prospect, but a problem had arisen. Did his brother James nurture a suspicion of Michael’s nefarious activities? Had James even mentioned his suspicions to his wife Florence, despised by Michael as an adulteress? There could only be one solution…
An uneasy calm descended over Whitechapel as the eventful year of 1888 drew to a close, and the name of Jack the Ripper began to evolve into legend. Two hundred miles away in Liverpool, Michael Maybrick was the house guest of brother James at Battlecrease House, where Florence, anticipating a frosty festive season, dutifully faded into the background, as expected of an obedient Victorian housewife.
James had been married for less than eight years, but, whilst in Michael’s company, had a tendency to revert to bachelor status, a totally different person, resentful of marital ties to Florence, vulnerable to his brother’s powers of coercion, and happy to boast of his extra-marital affairs. Just how far had Michael ventured in sharing his own fantasies over the years? Did James also entertain a masochistic streak, practiced on prostitutes prepared to indulge in sadistic fantasy at a price? Whilst working in Virginia, James was a regular visitor to a brothel owned by a Mary Hogwood, on record as stating,
I knew James Maybrick for several years, and up to the time of his marriage he called at my house, when in Norfolk, at least two or three times a week, and I saw him in his different moods and fancies. It was a common thing for him to take arsenic two or three times during the evening. He would pull from his pocket a small vial in which he carried his arsenic, and, putting a small quantity on his tongue, he would wash it down with a sip of wine. In fact, so often did he repeat this that I became afraid that if he died suddenly in my house, then some of us would be suspected of his murder. When drunk, Mr. James Maybrick would pour the powder into the palm of his hand, and lick it up with his tongue. I often cautioned him, but he answered ‘Oh, I am used to it. It will not harm me.’
3Liverpool Citizen. 21 August 1889.
Another acquaintance of James’s, whilst in Virginia, was master mariner Capt. John Fleming, who provides further commentary on James’s propensity for arsenic.
I was in the said James Maybrick’s office. He was cooking in a small pan over an oil stove, what I took to be hominy, a food much partaken in the southern states of America. I saw him deposit in the food a grey powder resembling light coloured pepper. He said to me, ‘You would be horrified, I daresay, if you knew what this is.’ I said, ‘There’s no harm in pepper,’ and he answered ‘It is arsenic.’ I then said, ‘Good God man, that is a deadly poison.’ He, James Maybrick, said, ‘We all take some poison, more or less, for instance I am now taking enough arsenic to kill you.’ He then offered me a little of the compound, saying that a little would not hurt me, but I declined it, saying that I would not meddle in such a thing. He answered, ‘I take this arsenic once in a while because it strengthens me.’
Just what were James’s ‘different moods and fancies’ to which Mary Hogwood refers? Outrageous it may seem, but no-one seems to have considered the possibility that James, particularly when high on drugs, could have indulged in sexual fantasies. Just how did James pass his time when down in London? Did he physically assault Florence on occasions?
Was James, like Michael, subject to strange bouts of irrationality? There was a family precedent. Their uncle, another Michael Maybrick, brother to their father William, had spent the last months of his life as a patient in a mental institution in Old Swan, Liverpool. Very little attention appears to have been paid to James’s idiosyncrasies, other than occasional references to ‘extra-marital affairs’ of which very little is known, but which could encompass a variety of activities. Michael would have taken great delight in fanning 4the embers, stoking the fires within, sharing alcoholic fantasies of how all women were whores, and should be treated as such. As always, Michael would have exploited the situation to his own advantage, seizing every opportunity to acquire material for a personal insurance policy, just in case. ‘I actually find relief in writing. You should maintain a journal, and unburden your concerns.’ James, ever mindful of pleasing his brother, mulled over the idea, and agreed to give the suggestion serious consideration. A diary might be a good idea, particularly if Michael approved.
By the time New Year’s Eve arrived, Florence had come to realise just how much influence Michael exercised over her husband. On the 31st December, Florence penned a letter to her mother in Paris.
In his fury he tore up his will this morning, as he had me the sole legatee and trustee for the children in it. Now he proposes to settle everything he can on the children alone, allowing me only one third by law. I am sure it matters little to me, as long as the children are provided for. My own income will do for me alone. A pleasant way of commencing New Year.
Etched in Arsenic. Trevor Christie.
The friction within the marriage was now palpable, but little did Florence realise that the imminent New Year was about to become the worst year of her life. The days ticked by, with January and February as dull as any other year, with James pursuing his clandestine habit, and Florence, half his age, trapped with two adorable little children in a loveless marriage. Florence Aunspaugh, daughter of a close American friend of the Maybricks, remembered James well. 5
You would not term him a handsome man. He had a fine forehead, very pleasant intellectual face and an open, honest countenance, light, sandy coloured hair, grey eyes, and a florid complexion. He had none of that blunt, abrupt manner so characteristic of the English, but was exceedingly cultured, polished and refined in his manners, and was a superb host. But there were two unfortunate features in his make-up. That was his morose, gloomy disposition, and extremely high temper. He also imagined he was afflicted with every ailment to which the flesh is heir. Yes, Mr. Maybrick was an arsenic addict. He craved it like a narcotic fiend. He used it right in our home. He was always after the doctor to prescribe it, and the druggist to make him up a tonic with arsenic in it. He once said to my mother, ‘They only give me enough to aggravate and worry me, and make me always craving for more.’ He was always taking strychnine tablets, and was great on beef broth and arsenic. My father once said, ‘Maybrick has got a dozen drug stores in his stomach.’
Letters of Florence Aunspaugh to Trevor Christie. University of Wyoming, Laramie.
‘A narcotic fiend with a high temper, yet polished and refined in manners,’ does tend to portray James, just like Michael, as being capable of harbouring multiple personalities, with the effects of his addiction causing Florence, three months earlier, in November 1888, to confide in the family doctor, Arthur Hopper, about James’s ‘habit of taking a strong medicine, which had a bad influence on him.’ At around the same time, James consulted a separate medical practitioner, Dr. J. Drysdale, on five separate occasions, complaining of headaches and numbness down the left leg and hand. According to the doctor, on being asked what medicines he had been in the habit of taking, James listed nitro-hydrochloric acid, strychnine, hydrate of potash and several 6other drugs, but on no occasion was he prepared to admit to taking arsenic.
Then, in late February 1889, James met salesman Valentine Blake, in Liverpool promoting the sale of ramie fibre, a potential substitute for cotton in the manufacture of fabrics, and, in the course of conversation, it was revealed that the manufacturing process involved the use of arsenic. When Blake let slip that he had in his possession a quantity of arsenic, James immediately offered to promote ramie fibre on the Cotton Exchange, on the basis that Blake’s available supply of arsenic would surreptitiously end up in James’s possession. The deal was struck, and around 150 grains of arsenic changed hands. In Blake’s own words,
I told him to be careful, as he had almost enough to poison a regiment. When we separated, James Maybrick took away the arsenic with him, saying he was going home to his house in Aigburth.
Affidavit. Valentine Blake.
This was probably the first drug deal on Merseyside, only coming to light twelve months later. 150 grains constitute a serious amount of arsenic, and Valentine Blake’s inference was that James must have secreted the stache at Battlecrease House, where Florence Aunspaugh provides a unique insight into the Maybricks’ lifestyle,
Battlecrease was a palatial home. The grounds must have consisted of five or six acres, and were given most excellent care. There were large trees, luxuriant shrubbery, and flowerbeds. Dotted around the grounds were little rock nooks or summer houses with seats, covered with old English ivy and other running vines. A conservatory was near the house, and a pair of peacocks roamed the grounds. Running through the grounds was a small natural stream of water, part of7which had been broadened and deepened to form a lake. This pond was stocked with fish, and swans and ducks were swimming on the surface. Mr. Maybrick was very fond of hunting, and had quite a few dogs. I saw six horses, a pair of handsome looking blacks which were always hitched to the carriage, a pair of greys, which were hitched to what they called a trap, and two saddle horses, one Mr. Maybrick used and the other Mrs. Maybrick.
Letters of Florence Aunspaugh to Trevor Christie. University of Wyoming, Laramie.
By now, the Maybricks’ delicate marital situation was compounded by financial problems, resulting mainly from James’s insistence on keeping up appearances. Theirs was a costly lifestyle, with expensive overheads resulting in a financial overload, of which a contributing factor was Florence’s predilection for retail therapy to the point of extravagance, all based on credit, and for the main part unbeknown to James. Soon, demand notes began to arrive at the house, intercepted by Florence, who was reduced to pawning jewellery, and borrowing from moneylenders to settle the accounts. In a letter to her mother in Paris, Florence wrote,
I am utterly worn out, and in such a state of overstrained nervousness I am hardly fit for anything. Whenever the doorbell rings, I feel ready to faint for fear it is someone coming to have an account paid, and when James comes home at night, it is with fear and trembling that I look into his face to see whether anyone has been to the office about my bills … my life is a continual state of fear of something or somebody. There is no way of stemming the current. I would gladly give up the house tomorrow, and move somewhere else, but Jim says it would ruin him outright, for one must keep up appearances until he has more capital to fall back on8to meet his liabilities, since the least suspicion aroused, all claims would pour in at once, and how could Jim settle with what he has now?
Florence Maybrick.
This was not the idyllic, sophisticated lifestyle envisaged by Florence on the S.S. Baltic in mid-Atlantic, or on her wedding day in Piccadilly, made worse by a lack of real friends in Liverpool. Well aware of James’s occasional intakes of white powder, on or around the 12th March, Florence wrote a letter to Michael, the precise contents of which are unknown, as Michael claimed to have destroyed the letter. Perhaps the letter contained a plea for financial assistance? What is known for certain, by Michael’s own admission, is that Florence wrote of James’s illicit intake of powders, which in her mind may have been the cause of his persistent headaches. Michael’s officially recorded response was that when he raised the matter with James on the occasion of a weekend visit to London one week later, James’s response was ‘Whoever told you that? It is a damned lie.’ It is, however, inconceivable that the topic was not pursued, as the brothers had two full days in London in which to discuss Florence’s allegation. James had confided in friends of his arsenic addiction, yet Michael, accomplished and convincing liar, would repeatedly claim that their conversation on the subject ended there and then. So far as Michael was concerned, the content of their fraternal discussions was nobody else’s business, and if James denied taking arsenic, so be it.
As well as expressing concern over James’s ongoing drug problem, Florence had also learned of his extra marital activities, although uncertain with whom, by which time she 9too was not averse to flirtation, and, whilst maintaining a secret bond with Edwin, soon developed an illicit association with Alfred Brierley, a cotton broker twelve years younger than James, trading at the same Liverpool Cotton Exchange. The mutual attraction had not passed unnoticed in the workplace, however, and word eventually filtered through to Edwin, who had little option but to sulk in silence. Likewise, Matilda Brigg’s spinster sister, Gertrude Janion, who had also been casting eyes at Alfred, was not amused. The gloom of winter gradually dissipated with the welcome onset of spring, and one day, on returning home early, Florence found the children playing unattended in the garden, with children’s nurse Alice Yapp pre-occupied in gossiping with the kitchen staff. A confrontation ensued, in which Alice was given a humiliating dressing down in front of the other servants, resulting in an unforgiving resentment within the young servant girl, whose upbringing did not readily relate to subservience, despite her position within the household. After all, Alice had been interviewed personally by Mr. Maybrick, not his wife, who was only the same age as she was. Alice was deeply offended, and would not forget.
Michael in the meantime, content with the outcome of his funny little games in Whitechapel, toured the country as Mr. Maybrick and Stephen Adams, counting down the hours to his big day at United Grand Lodge in April, yet still mulling over how to deal with Florence Maybrick. He had thoroughly enjoyed desecrating Florence’s lookalike in Miller’s Court, but in reality she was still very much alive, with those penetrating blue eyes, empty and expressionless perhaps, but potentially dangerous, as only Michael Maybrick understood. One light-hearted and innocuous remark made by Florence 10over dinner at Christmas, after two glasses of claret, had hinted that Michael could be the Whitechapel Murderer. Intended as frivolity and accepted as such by all present, the remark had nonetheless struck home. This woman could bring about his downfall, should she just once voice her light-hearted banter in Liverpool social circles. Florence definitely had to go. It was pre-destined anyway, and now it was just a matter of how and when this could be achieved, without incriminating himself.
In March 1889, Florence duly obliged by elevating her flirtations with Alfred Brierley into an adulterous relationship, with apparent disregard for the consequences. Florence covertly telegrammed a reservation at Flatman’s Hotel, Covent Garden, under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Maybrick, Manchester, for the weekend of the 23th March, at the same time arranging to liaise, whilst in London, with family friend John Baillie Knight, to discuss arrangements for a potential separation from James. The love tryst was a momentous move, spontaneously undertaken with unaccountable lack of forethought, and even less intelligence. Alfred Brierley may well have been unmarried, eligible, and captivated by Florence’s seductive looks, but Florence was married, and Brierley worked alongside her husband in the Liverpool Cotton Exchange, where rumours were already beginning to circulate.
Brierley turned up at Flatman’s Hotel the day after Florence, whereupon, for whatever reason, the intended love affair metamorphosed into disaster, with Brierley losing his nerve after half-heartedly spending the night together, and catching the train back to Liverpool the following day. Florence, 11recklessly infatuated, was understandably distraught, and John Baillie Knight arranged for her to stay with his aunt Margaret over the next few days, during which time he arranged for Florence to contact a firm of solicitors, who drafted a letter of proposed separation, on the grounds of James’s adultery. The letter was never delivered.
Sunday the 25th March 1889, was to provide Michael Maybrick with yet another platform for furthering his prospects of social advancement, on the occasion of the opening of the new headquarters of the 20th Middlesex (Artists) Rifle Volunteers. Lieutenant Maybrick was responsible for directing the entertainment in the presence of HRH Edward, Prince of Wales, Grand Master of English Freemasonry, four weeks before Brother Maybrick would be presented to the Prince for investiture as Grand Organist of the United Grand Lodge of England.
On that same evening, with Brierley safely back home in Liverpool, Florence was wined and dined at the Grand Hotel and Gaiety Theatre by John Baillie Knight, and on the next, incredibly, by Michael Maybrick, offering an evening of in-depth conversation at the Café Royal, with a very understanding and concerned psychopathic serial killer, intent on her demise.
The day after she was with Brierley in London, I took her to dine out at the Café Royal in Regent’s Park, and took her to the theatre. She has come to me time and again for money, and always got it.
Michael Maybrick.
Florence had visited Michael at his home address at Wellington Mansions, Regent’s Park, just down the road 12from the Café Royal, a meeting of desperation, with little thought for the consequences. If the statement is true, and monetary dialogue had taken place between the pair on more than one occasion, the social butterfly had fluttered into a very tangled web indeed. An expert at psychological manipulation, Michael would have drawn on the occasion by helping Florence unburden her problems, gleaning whatever information was on offer, and soon confirming that which he had already suspected, that not only was Florence foolish and impulsive, as proven by the weekend’s events at Flatman’s Hotel, but she and James had indeed harboured light-hearted but foolish fantasies that Michael Maybrick may have been Jack the Ripper. After an evening at the Café Royal, however, Florence would have been totally reassured by the mass murderer’s convincing pretence of sincerity and empathy, soon realising how silly she had been for nurturing such suspicions. Michael could be a really understanding person, and Florence told him so.
On Florence’s return to Liverpool on the 28th March, nothing untoward appears to have happened, and, before very long, fear and apprehension were replaced by complacency. On the following day, James and Florence attended the Grand National at Aintree, where, in an outstanding display of ineptitude, Florence drifted away from James, and consorted arm in arm with Alfred Brierley. Once home at Battlecrease House, she was confronted by her furious husband, fearful of scandal, overwhelmed with rage, and engulfed by a full day’s intake of alcohol and noxious substances. His brother’s cultivated vilification of Florence, simmering inside James’s head, was fully released, and a serious confrontation ensued, with Florence threatening to walk out, following which James 13was heard to shout ‘Florie, I never thought it would come to this. By heavens, if you cross that threshold, you shall never enter this house again.’
That night, James Maybrick, the ‘narcotic fiend with a high temper’, displayed his true colours, and Florence awoke the following morning with a black eye. The first person she turned to was Matilda Briggs, at whose suggestion the pair went to see Dr. Hopper, to whom Florence recounted the incident in graphic detail, confiding that James was having a secret affair, and confessing to serious financial indebtedness, which would inevitably lead to further disruption of the marriage, if and when discovered. As a longstanding personal friend of James, Dr. Hopper somehow managed to broker a reconciliation, with James promising to honour Florence’s debts. Another tiff occurred the following day, however, after which Florence complained of feeling unwell, resulting in the cook running off to summon the local general practitioner, Dr. Richard Humphreys. All was not well at Battlecrease House, and the clock was ticking with a grim inevitability, as James’s drug habit developed into a serious addiction, resulting in repeated bouts of illness and irritability, which he refused to acknowledge were the consequence of his poisonous intake.
A grain of arsenic is the size of a peppercorn, and two are sufficient to kill a man. When incorporated into legally available medicines, arsenic content was measured in drops, with a hundred drops per grain, the average prescription dose containing four drops. Local chemist Edwin Heaton, operating close to the Liverpool Cotton Exchange, was the source of James Maybrick’s legitimate but limited supply of 14‘recreational’ arsenic, in the form of liquor arsenicalis, later confirming that over a ten year period, James’s daily prescription dose had increased from four to seven drops, and, when James went away on business trips, he would make up packages varying from eight to sixteen doses.
He used to call continually at my shop, sometimes four or five times a day, for what he called his ‘pick-me-up’, but which was liquid arsenicalis.
Edward Heaton.
Two weeks after the Grand National, James travelled to London to stay with Michael over two successive weekends on the 14th and 21st April, possibly with a view to arranging settlement of Florence’s debts, which by now had been discreetly transferred to two London moneylenders. Evenings spent together over brandies in Michael’s sumptuous drawing room would invariably have centred around Florence, guided by the host into alcohol fuelled fantasies of the ideal solution, which, of course, would never be fulfilled. James was well used to Michael’s mood swings, which indeed had given rise to his own suspicions of Michael’s Whitechapel involvement, a source of much amusement whenever the topic had been raised. James simply did not realise how distinctly unamused Michael actually was, as he laughed off the suggestion. Michael was his mentor, was always right, always had been, and how thoroughly enjoyable it was just to fantasise between themselves over what Florence really deserved. An invariable topic of discussion during more rational moments would have been James’s obsessional fear of infirmity, as a consequence of which Michael obligingly introduced him to his own physician, Dr. Charles Fuller, who diagnosed severe indigestion, much to James’s disappointment as a confirmed 15hypochondriac, writing out two prescriptions which James took back to Liverpool, for preparation by his local chemists.
James Maybrick had been initiated into Freemasonry in 1870 into St. George’s Lodge of Harmony No.32, meeting at the Adelphi Hotel, in Liverpool, subsequently joining the Lodge’s associated Jerusalem Chapter No.32 two years later. Whilst in London, Michael would undoubtedly have taken the opportunity of inviting James to the Masonic Hall in Great Queen Street, where rehearsals would have been under way for the forthcoming Grand Investiture, introducing him to his contemporary Grand Officers, including the Lord Chamberlain, the Earl of Lathom, Deputy Grand Master of the United Grand Lodge of England, Provincial Grand Master of Lancashire, and senior member of James Maybrick’s own Lodge. Perhaps whilst James was engaged in conversation elsewhere, Michael chose a discreet moment to quietly confide in the Lord Chamberlain his concern that brother James had been behaving somewhat strangely over the last few months on the occasion of his trips to London, and just perhaps he might have been connected to the murders in Whitechapel. Just perhaps, but worthy of mention?
The Earl of Lathom would undoubtedly have been totally nonplussed at such a remark, preposterous, yet presented with such embarrassed humility by a truly just and upright man, that it could only have been made as the result of much soul searching. Speculation was rife throughout the nation as to the possible identity of the Whitechapel Murderer, and innocent men were being unjustly named as suspects on a regular basis, yet why else would this highly trustworthy man jeopardise his reputation by making such an allegation 16against his own brother, without possessing a genuine belief in its authenticity?
Three days later on Wednesday 24th April 1889, the Annual Investiture Ceremony of the United Grand Lodge of England took place before a select audience of 1700 Freemasons in full masonic regalia, followed by a resplendent procession into the adjoining banqueting hall, to the resounding tones of the mighty Grand Lodge organ. Poignantly, seated at the dining table close to the newly appointed Grand Organist was the recently knighted Bro. Sir Polydore de Keyser, the first Roman Catholic Lord Mayor of London, whose outgoing celebrations in November had been marred by the horrific murder of Mary Jane Kelly. Also nearby was Bro. Henry Homewood Crawford, newly appointed Grand Steward and City of London Solicitor, acting on behalf of the police at the inquest of Catherine Eddowes, alias Mary Ann Kelly.
The appointments at Grand Lodge were as follows,
Michael Maybrick was in his element, divinely protected, truly unassailable on a mission guided by angelic providence, with not one soul present having the slightest idea the most wanted man in the land was in their midst. From his position to the right of the Grand Master, the Earl of Lathom quietly watched, still undecided what to make of Bro. Maybrick, strangely detached, yet with the uncanny ability to instantly charm, even the normally aloof Sir Polydore de Keyser. Could his brother James really be Jack the Ripper? Best let the matter rest for the time being.
On James’s return to Liverpool on Monday the 22nd April, family life at Battlecrease House continued as usual, with both parties publicly maintaining the pretence of a happy marriage. In a few days time, Florence and James were due to attend a Masquerade Ball, the kind of social pageant in which Florence had delighted whilst in Alabama, and personal appearance was, as always, of paramount importance. Habitual visits to the up-market milliners and haberdashers of Liverpool’s Bold Street, no expense spared, had ensured that Florence would be the belle of the ball, but an embarrassing problem had surfaced, quite literally. Acne had begun to appear on Florence’s otherwise flawless face, and remedial measures were necessary. Back home in Alabama, the family physician, Dr. Greggs, would have prescribed the usual face wash of elderflower water, tincture of benzoin and a drop or two of arsenic, which would usually alleviate the outbreak within two or three days. Similarly, when the young Florence had been in Germany, her friends would have made their own cosmetic solution of lavender water, elderflower water, and fly-papers, containing small amounts of arsenic, to make a similar preparation. So Florence accordingly went about buying fly-papers from a local chemist in Liverpool, and preparing a lotion to assuage the unsightly spots.
On Friday the 26th April, four days after James’s return from London, there arrived in the post at Battlecrease House a parcel, postmarked London, containing a bottle of medicine, labelled Nux Vomica. Dr. Fuller was later to state categorically that he had only provided James Maybrick with two written prescriptions which, on his return to Liverpool, 19were presented to local chemists Clay and Abraham. The parcel definitely did not emanate from Dr. Fuller, so who sent the mysterious bottle, why, and what did it contain? Housemaid Mary Cadwallader was adamant that the London Medicine did not arrive unexpectedly.
Mr. Maybrick told me that he had been up to London, and was expecting medicine a day or two before it arrived.
Mary Cadwallader.
On the afternoon following receipt of the medicine, James was due to attend a race meeting on the Wirral, on the opposite side of the River Mersey, but in the morning became ill, and in the words of the children’s nurse, Alice Yapp,
I remember Mr. Maybrick going to the Wirral Races on the 27th April, and after he had gone, between ten o’ clock and eleven o’ clock, Mrs. Maybrick came to me and said, ‘Master has been taking an overdose of medicine. It is strychnine, and very dangerous. He is very ill.’ I said, ‘What medicine is it?’ and she said, ‘Some which has been presented by a doctor in London.’
AliceYapp.
James and Florence clearly believed that the medicine had been sent by Dr. Fuller, but the doctor would later confirm that he had provided written prescriptions only, and those for harmless indigestion remedies. On arrival at work that Saturday morning, James had confided to office clerk, George Smith, that he was feeling unwell,
He said that he had taken an overdose of medicine, and there was strychnine in it, that he was on the W.C. for an hour, and all his limbs were stiff and he could not move.
George Smith.
20James was an authority on the taste and effects of strychnine, and was unequivocally of the opinion that such was the content of the mysterious London Medicine. Just as Michael had anticipated, James could not resist that extra dose, resulting in the symptoms described by George Smith. During his visit to London, James had also come into possession of certain pills which were definitely unrelated to Dr. Fuller’s prescriptions, and which he had reason to believe had originally been prescribed for Michael. Dr. Fuller would later confirm that James ….
…. had been taking a pill which he said I had prescribed for his brother. This, however, is not the case. I had not prescribed it. He told me of nothing else he had been taking. I asked him if he had been taking any medicine, and he said the pill was the only thing he had been taking.
Dr. Charles Fuller.
Just what was the mysterious pill of which the doctor had no knowledge, but which James attributed to his brother? The answer may well be provided by an article in the Liverpool Weekly Post a month later.
It was freely rumoured that Mr. Maybrick had told a friend of his, living in the neighbourhood, that he had taken an overdose of medicine which contained poison, and that he felt the worse for it. We are able to give the true story which gave rise to this rumour on the authority of the gentleman himself, who got it at first hand. It appears that it had been apparent to his friends on the Exchange that for many weeks past Mr. Maybrick had been seriously ill. He had been petulant in his manner and very delicate in appearance, as compared with his usual state of health. Some weeks ago he went up to London to consult a leading physician as to his ailment, and this gentleman, in addition to some other medicine, prescribed for him certain pills. Mr. Maybrick took them, and21told a friend that he did not rely on the specified dose, namely two pills, but had taken four, and had felt much worse for it. He made a second visit to London, and upon this occasion the physician told him that he had done great wrong in doubling the dose, because the pills consisted largely of strychnine.
Liverpool Weekly Post. 25 May 1889.
The story certainly conforms to the known facts, even down to James’s deterioration in health since his secret dockside arsenic deal with Valentine Blake. James incorrectly believed the strychnine based pills had been prescribed for Michael by Dr. Fuller, but it appears Michael had given James the pills without Dr. Fuller’s involvement, confirmed on James’s next visit to the doctor, one week later, when he explained to James the strychnine content of the pills he had been taking. The doctor must have been mystified by this strange sequence of events, and without doubt would have raised the subject with Michael, but no further reference is made to this matter. James, of course, was quite content with this useful supplement to his usual drug habit, suspecting no ulterior motive, and subsequently confiding his intake of the pills to a close friend and work colleague on the Exchange, very likely his lifelong pal George Davidson, who would prove not only concerned with James’s welfare, but sufficiently suspicious of this strange sequence of events as to contact the press, hence the newspaper article. James was under the total misapprehension that both the pills and the London Medicine were legitimate prescriptions emanating from Dr. Fuller, rather than substances insidiously introduced by his own brother.
The London Medicine arrived on the morning of the day of the Wirral Races, which, despite severe weather conditions, 22James was determined to attend. The outing involved a long journey on horseback, including arduous ferry crossings over the River Mersey, and this foolhardy venture was about to take its toll, with later witness statements confirming James’s odd behaviour during the day, and noting his fragility. Racetrack acquaintance William Thomson commented on James’s unsteadiness in the saddle, only to receive the response that it was due to his having taken a ‘double dose’ that morning. Likewise, fellow spectator and friend Morden Rigg expressed no surprise to hear of James’s intake of strychnine that morning, as he was always taking medicines of one kind or another.
He turned round to my wife’s carriage, and told her he had taken an overdose of strychnine that morning, and that his limbs were quite rigid. She is prepared to testify this, if necessary.
Morden Rigg.
James remained on the Wirral that evening, dining at the residence of his friends the Hobsons, where his lack of co-ordination at the table was noted by the hosts.
After coming from the races, he went to dine with a friend, and whilst there his hands were so unsteady and twitching, that he upset some wine, and he was greatly distressed lest his friends would think he was drunk.
Dr. Richard Humphreys.
On arriving home at Battlecrease House later that night, after a gruelling return journey on horseback in heavy rain, James collapsed into bed, and on awaking the following morning, complained of severe chest pains and partial paralysis. Dr. Humphreys was summoned, diagnosing severe indigestion as 23