“Gilbert Greystone a Jack the Ripper suspect?” Readers Questions

Thank you to all the readers who have supported the “The Secret Life of The Elephant Man” both in the UK and internationally. I wanted to address some of the questions I have been asked about the book.

I have been asked whether my description of Alice Powell’s physical appearance is influenced by Jane Morris the famous model of many Pre-Raphaelite paintings, most notably the work of Gabriel Rossetti. I can confirm that my description of Alice Powell was not influenced by Jane Morris, although I can see a passing resemblance. I actually based Alice’s appearance on an old archive photograph from the Victorian era which I saw many years ago.

“Is the building where Joseph Merrick exhibited in Whitechapel still standing?” Yes – it’s directly opposite The London Hospital on Whitechapel Road.

“Was there really a music hall entertainer called Zampi The One Legged Gymnast?” Yes, I examined archive evidence about Zampi. I slightly exaggerated his pay, but he was certainly earning very good money in the 1880’s-90’s.

“Where can I find out more about Victorian sideshows?” I would highly recommend The National Fairground Archive at Sheffield University, they have some great resources. Be sure to check out the terms and conditions on their webpage and let them know of your visit well in advance.

“Was Dr Gilbert Greystone a real life Jack the Ripper suspect?” Dr Gilbert Greystone is a fictional character, but I can see how you might consider him as a possible suspect! He is active in Whitechapel around the same time as the notorious murders and is an extremely dubious man.

Thanks again for your questions which can be submitted via the Contact page.

Why I Wrote “The Secret Life of The Elephant Man” by Milford Grove

Joseph Merrick held various positions in the world of conventional work before his freak show career began at the age 21. After leaving school aged 12, Joseph worked at a cigar factory in Leicester, hand rolling the product. He was dismissed after two years when the deformities of his right handed “claw” meant that he could no longer fulfil his duties. For his next employ, Joseph Merrick’s father secured him a hawking license and he spent three years eking out a living as perhaps the world’s most unlikely door to door salesman.

Eventually destitute, Joseph Merrick entered Leicester Union Workhouse from where he periodically discharged himself to look for work. After four years of pauperage Joseph Merrick was faced with a choice – endure rejection from normal society for the rest of his life and die in the workhouse, or turn his affliction into a borderline illegal sideshow, save himself and make a living.

By writing to promoters and offering his services, Joseph Merrick became a performing freak of his own free will. Evidence suggests that for the most part of his career, Joseph was treated well by his managers, earned good money and was shrewd with his savings, accumulating a nest egg roughly approximate to a workingman’s annual salary in just a couple of years.

This chapter of Joseph Merrick’s story is often ignored. But for me this is the story, the sequence of events which led to a devout Christian choosing a life of immorality and the evolution of a “freak” act which saved Joseph’s life, led to his admission at the London Hospital and his enduring celebrity.

Joseph Merrick was accustomed to performing for crowds and it is now accepted that he was a more worldly, independent man than previously thought. Were Joseph’s qualities of pious, childlike, innocence an extension of his freakshow persona, which he exaggerated to win favour with his benefactors?

Once we accept that Joseph Merrick chose to exploit himself, we can also consider the possibility that he chose to exploit us, the voyeur.

However, we must also acknowledge that the life of someone like Joseph Merrick is not a continual joyful romp, where the raucous party of personal rebellion submerges self doubt. Days of liberation can be darkened by nights of uncertainty, anguish and regret. The character of Dr Gilbert Greystone symbolises many things, the rise of Eugenics, harsh Victorian attitudes towards different people, the ruthless edge of the British Imperial ruling class. He tells Joseph Merrick that: “When I first saw you at the workhouse, I knew our destinies were entwined. For you embody everything of which I would rid the world, the deformed, the defective, the weak, the worthless.”

Gilbert Greystone also represents something we all share – a form of self loathing, our disgust at our weakness and imperfection, the inner voice of chastisement and shame that so frequently visits us at the mirror. Joseph’s most significant relationship is with Alice Powell…

Alice, once a conventionally beautiful young woman, suddenly grows a beard. It is unexpected, unexplained, a personal tragedy. She is hounded by society and cast out by her family. Alice takes to performing as The Bearded Lady where she meets Joseph Merrick. She has been fawned over for her beauty, then derided as an oddity, yet in Joseph Merrick she meets a man seasoned in affliction, who can teach her more of the freakish way. Joseph and Alice find solace and fulfilment in each other, but as their friendship progresses to romantic love, fate intervenes…

Some of us are fortunate to be cured of our afflictions, or find relief in a temporary reprieve. Others are able to conceal their conditions with careful management. Like Alice, we may experience radically different reactions from the same individuals: desire and disdain, adoration and rejection, the true hypocrisy of the world. Some of us enjoy a precarious, temporary position within normal society, knowing that we are vulnerable, should our secret ever be discovered or the affliction return.

The universal message is that we all possess some corner of strangeness we seek to suppress, everyone, no matter how seemingly “normal”, and that by stepping into the bizarre, we can find a form of release.

I thank you in advance for reading my book and Joseph Merrick for his example.

“The Secret Life of The Elephant Man” is a book for the freak in us all.

“The Secret Life of The Elephant Man – The Fact Behind The Fiction” by Milford Grove

The Secret Life of The Elephant Man is a work of fiction which employs dramatic license for the purpose of entertainment. Nevertheless, the fiction is rooted in fact and is inspired by real events. The Victorian era has always fascinated me, because I believe it is the defining era of modern Britain. At this time, Britain was the world leader in arts, commerce and scientific innovation, commanders of an all-conquering Empire, on which it was believed the sun would never set.

The Victorians loved to ratify and stratify drawing up all sorts of rules and regulations, a practice which extended to their leisure time – formalising the code of play for many of the world’s major sports for example. The British (or should that be English?) class system became truly entrenched and it is easy to regard the Victorian era, with a sort of false nostalgia, as a period of harmony and contentment in ‘knowing where one stood’. It was also an era of bewildering contrasts, where philanthropy, gentility and fair play, were as much a part of everyday life as exploitation, prejudice and brutality.

In Britain and throughout the Western world, there was great concern about so called mental “defectives” undermining humanity, fuelling intense political and scientific debate about the solution. Britain opted for classification and segregation. Parliament’s Idiots Act (1886) drew up the parameters for imbecility and was followed by the Mental Deficiency Act (1913), which led to tens of thousands of British “mental defectives” being sent to institutions.

In the United States of America compulsory sterilisation was approved by dozens of states, typified by the infamous Buck v Bell case. Other “civilised” nations approved similar measures. In Germany of course, the imperative of eliminating the “weak and inferior” was taken to its extreme conclusion.

History is defined by charismatic leaders who inspire legions of followers to enact their will. Who knows how much further Britain would have taken things if someone like Dr Gilbert Greystone had developed the popular touch? Greystone establishes “The League of Decency”, a hugely well liked social purity movement. The ethos of social purity was embodied by one of our Victorian Prime Ministers who, in his early career, reportedly took to the streets on evangelical missions in a bid to convert fallen women, before returning home and atoning for his proximity to sin by self-flagellation.

A typical evening with the “League of Decency” would include edifying lectures such as “Marital Hygiene”, “Chastity and Womanhood” and why Britain must fight “Sin with Steel” by deploying the army on the seamiest streets of Whitechapel in a “take no prisoners” mission.

The League of Decency’s rallies are only slightly exaggerated version of real public meetings which were attended by thousands of people throughout Britain. Likewise, Gilbert Greystone is an exaggerated character in his actions (clandestine and illegal sterilisation operations) but, frighteningly enough, his beliefs were par for the era.

“For too long defectives have hidden behind the church.” says Greystone “We are told they have a purpose because they have soul. What poppycock! The British Empire is built on bullets and battleships, steam and steel. A man must produce, or he must perish. His soul has not the value of a can of tin.”

Greystones remarks represent a shift towards a secular society. Because, for all its piety and missionary zeal, the Victorian era was surely the time when industry became a religion in itself, work became more important than existence, and those who could not work, “defectives”, did not have the right to be.

Perhaps the lasting legacy of Joseph Merrick is his humanisation of disability and deformity, at a time when sterilisation was seen as the answer?

But what if Joseph’s affections of piety were an extension of his sideshow persona and that he was not actually a “childlike” creature, but a man with all the attendant qualities of manhood, such as desire? Would that offend public “decency”? Would the establishment be inclined to sway towards Gilbert Greystone? “The Secret Life of The Elephant Man” is the dramatisation of this national dilemma.