The condition in which the body was found appeared to prove conclusively that the deceased was killed on the exact spot in which she was found. There was not a trace of blood anywhere except at the spot where her neck was lying. That appeared to the coroner sufficient to justify the assumption that the injuries to the throat were inflicted when the woman was on the ground, while the state of her clothing and the absence of any blood about her legs equally proved that the abdominal injuries were inflicted while she was still in the same position.
Nor did there appear any grounds for doubt that, if deceased was killed where she was found, she met her death without cry of any kind. The spot was almost under the windows of Mrs. Green, a light sleeper. It was opposite the bedroom of Mrs. Purkiss, who was awake at the time. Then there were watchmen at various spots within very short distances. Not a sound was heard by any. Nor was there evidence of any struggle. This might have arisen from her intoxication or from being stunned by a blow. It seemed astonishing, at first thought, that the culprit should escape detection, for there must surely have been marks of blood about his person. If, however, blood was principally on his hands, the presence of so many slaughter-houses in the neighbourhood would make the frequenters of that spot familiar with bloodstained clothes and hands, and his appearance might in that way have failed to attract attention while he passed from Bucks Row in the twilight into Whitechapel Road and was lost sight of in the morning’s market of traffic.
He himself thought they could not altogether have unnoticed the fact that the death the jury had been investigating was one of four presenting many points of similarity, all of which had occurred within the space of about five months, and all within a very short distance of the place where they were sitting. All four victims were women of middle age; all were married and had lived apart from their husbands in consequence of intemperate habits and were at the time of their death leading irregular lives and eking out a miserable and precarious existence in common lodging-houses. In each case there were abdominal as well as other injuries. In each case the injuries were inflicted after midnight and in places of public resort where it would appear impossible but that almost immediate detection would follow the crime, and in each case the inhuman and dastardly criminals were at large in society.
Emma Elizabeth Smith, who received the injuries in Osborn Street on the early morning of Easter Tuesday, the 3rd of April, survived in the London Hospital for upwards of twenty-four hours and was able to state that she had been followed by some men, robbed and mutilated, and even to describe imperfectly one of them. Martha Tabram was found at 3 A.M. on Tuesday, the 7th of August, on the first-floor landing of Gregory Yard Buildings with thirty-nine puncture wounds on the body. In addition to these and the case under consideration of the jury there was the case of Annie Chapman, still in the hands of another jury. The instruments used in the two earlier cases were dissimilar. In the first it was a blunt instrument such as a walking-stick; in the second some of the wounds were thought to have been made by a dagger. But in the two recent cases the instruments suggested by the medical witnesses were not so different. Dr. Llewellyn said that the injuries on Nichols could have been produced by a very sharp knife, probably with a thin, narrow blade, at least six inches to eight inches in length, probably longer. The similarity of the injuries in the two cases was considerable. There were bruises about the face in both cases, the head was nearly severed from the body in both cases, and those injuries again had in each case been performed with anatomical knowledge. Dr. Llewellyn seemed to incline to the opinion that the abdominal injuries were inflicted first and caused instantaneous death; but if so, it seemed difficult to understand the object of such desperate injuries to the throat or how it came about there was so little bleeding from the severed arteries that the clothing on the upper surface was not stained and the legs not soiled, and that there was very much less bleeding from the abdomen than from the neck. Surely it might well be that, as in the case of Chapman, the dreadful wounds to the throat were first inflicted and the abdominal afterwards. That was a matter of some importance when they came to consider what possible motive there could be for all this ferocity.
Robbery was out of the question, and there was nothing to suggest jealousy. There could not have been any quarrel or it would have been heard. The taking of some of the abdominal viscera from the body of Chapman suggested that they may have been the object of her death. Was it not possible that this may have been the motive in the case they had under consideration? He suggested to the jury as a possibility that the two women might have been murdered by the same man with the same object and that in the case of Nichols the wretch was disturbed before he had accomplished his object, and having failed in the open street, he tried again—within a week of his failure—in a more secluded place. If this was correct, the audacity and daring was equal to its maniacal fanaticism and abhorrent wickedness. But the surmise might or might not be correct.
Inquest on Annie Chapman, September 11–27
Statement of the Coroner. The deceased was a widow forty-seven years of age named Annie Chapman. Her husband was a coachman living at Windsor. For three or four years before his death she had lived apart from her husband, who allowed her ten shillings a week until his death Christmas 1886. She had evidently lived an immoral life for some time, and her habits and surroundings had become worse since her means had failed. She lived principally in the common lodging-houses in the neighbourhood of Spitalfields, where such as she herded like cattle. She showed signs of great deprivation as if she had been badly fed. The glimpse of life in those dens which the evidence in this case disclosed was sufficient to make the jury feel there was much in the nineteenth-century civilization of which they had small reason to be proud; but the jury, who were constantly called together to hear the sad tale of starvation or semi-starvation, of misery, immorality, and wickedness which some of the occupants of the five thousand beds in that district had every week to relate at coroners’ inquests, did not require to be reminded what a life in a Spitalfields lodging-house meant.
It was in one of those houses that the older bruises found on the temple and in front of the chest of the deceased were received—in a trumpery quarrel—a week before her death. It was in one of those that she was seen a few hours before her mangled remains were discovered. On the afternoon and evening of Friday, the 7th of September, she spent her time partly in such a place—at 35 Dorset Street—and partly in the Ringers public house, where she spent whatever money she had; so that between one and two o’clock on the morning of Saturday, when the money for the bed was demanded, she was obliged to admit that she was without means and at once turned out into the street to find it. She left there at 1:45 A.M. On her wedding finger she was wearing two or three rings, which appeared to have been palpably of base metal, as the witnesses were all clear about their material and value. They now lost sight of her for about four hours, but at half-past five o’clock Mrs. Long was in Hanbury Street on the way to Spitalfields Market.
Testimony of Elizabeth Long. Mrs. Long stated [that] on Saturday morning the 8th she was passing down Hanbury Street from home and going to Spitalfields Market. It was about 5:30. She was certain of the time as the brewers’ clock had just struck that time when she passed 29 Hanbury Street. She saw a man and a woman on the pavement talking. The man’s back was turned toward Brick Lane while the woman’s was toward Spitalfields Market. They were talking together and were close against the shutters of No. 29. Witness saw the woman’s face. She had since seen the deceased in the mortuary and was sure it was the face of the same person. She did not see the man’s face except to notice that he was dark. He wore a brown deerstalker hat and she thought he had on a dark coat but was not quite sure. She could not say what the age of the man was, but he looked to be over forty and appeared to be a little taller than the deceased. He appeared to be a foreigner and had a shabby genteel appearance. Witness could hear them talking loudly, and she overheard him say to the deceased, “Will you?” She
replied, “Yes.” They still stood there as witness passed and she went on to her work without looking back.
Statement of the Coroner Continued. There was nothing to suggest that the deceased was not fully conscious of what she was doing. It was true that she had passed through some stages of intoxication, for although she appeared perfectly sober to her friends who met her in Dover Street at five o’clock the previous evening, she had been drinking afterwards; and when she left the lodging-house shortly after two o’clock the night watchman noticed that she was the worse for drink but not badly so, while the deputy asserts that, though she had been evidently drinking, she could walk straight and it was probably only malt liquor that she had taken—and its effects would pass off quicker than if she had taken spirits. The post mortem showed that while the stomach contained a meal of food, there was no sign of fluid and no appearance of her having taken alcohol.
The deceased, therefore, entered the house in full possession of her faculties although with a different object to her companion’s. From the evidence which the condition of the yard afforded and the medical examination disclosed, it appeared that after the two had passed through the passage and opened the swing door at the end, they descended the three steps into the yard. The wretch must have then seized the deceased, perhaps with Judas-like approaches. He seized her by the chin. He pressed her throat, and while thus preventing the slightest cry, he at the same time produced insensibility and suffocation. There was no evidence of any struggle. The clothes were not torn. Even in those preliminaries the wretch seems to have known how to carry out efficiently his nefarious work. The deceased was then lowered to the ground and laid on her back, and although in doing so she may have fallen slightly against the fence, the movement was probably effected with care. Her throat was then cut in two places with savage determination, and the injuries to the abdomen commenced.
All was done with cool impudence and reckless daring; but perhaps nothing was more noticeable than the emptying of her pockets and the arrangement of their contents with business-like precision in order near her feet. The murder seemed, like the Bucks Row case, to have been carried out without an outcry. None of the occupants of the houses by which the spot was surrounded heard anything suspicious. The brute who committed the offence did not even take the trouble to cover up his ghastly work but left the body exposed to the view of the first comer. That accorded but little with the trouble taken with the rings and suggested either that he had at length been disturbed or that as daylight broke a sudden fear suggested the danger of detection that he was running.
There were two things missing. Her rings had been wrenched from her fingers and had not since been found, and the uterus had been taken from the abdomen. The body had not been dissected but the injuries had been made by someone who had considerable anatomical skill and knowledge. There were no meaningless cuts. The organ had been taken by one who knew where to find it, what difficulties he would have to contend against, and how he should use his knife so as to abstract the organ without injury to it. No unskilled person could have known where to find it or have recognized it when it was found. For instance, no mere slaughterer of animals could have carried out these operations. It must have been someone accustomed to the post-mortem room.
The conclusion that the desire was to possess the missing abdominal organ seemed overwhelming. If the object were robbery the injuries to the viscera were meaningless, for death had previously resulted from the loss of blood at the neck. Moreover, when they found an easily accomplished theft of some paltry brass rings and an internal organ taken after at least a quarter of an hour’s work and by a skilled person, they were driven to the deduction that the abstraction of the missing portion of abdominal viscera was the object and the theft of the rings was only a thinly veiled blind, an attempt to prevent the real intention being discovered. The amount missing would go into a breakfast cup, and had not the medical examination been of a thorough and searching character it might easily have been left unnoticed that there was any portion of the body which had been taken.
The difficulty in believing that the purport of the murderer was the possession of the missing abdominal organ was natural. It was abhorrent to their feelings to conclude that a life should be taken for so slight an object, but when rightly considered the reasons for most murders were altogether out of proportion to their guilt. It had been suggested that the criminal was a lunatic with morbid feelings. That might or might not be the case, but the object of the murderer appeared palpably shown by the facts and it was not necessary to assume lunacy, for it was clear there was a market for the missing organ. Some months ago an American called on [the sub-curator of the Pathological Museum] and asked him to procure a number of specimens of the organ that was missing in the deceased. He stated his willingness to give £20 a piece for each specimen. He stated that his object was to issue an actual specimen with each copy of a publication on which he was then engaged. He was told that his request was impossible to be complied with, but he still urged his request. He wished them preserved, not in spirits of wine—the usual medium—but glycerine in order to preserve them in a flaccid condition, and he wished them sent to America direct. It was known that this request was repeated to another institution of a similar character. Now was it not possible that the knowledge of this demand might have incited some abandoned wretch to possess himself of a specimen?
FURTHER INVESTIGATION
September 11. Yesterday morning Detective Sergeant Thicke, who has been indefatigable in his inquiries respecting the murder of Annie Chapman, succeeded in capturing a man whom he believed to be “Leather Apron.” It will be recollected that this person obtained an evil notoriety during the inquiries respecting this and the recent murders committed in Whitechapel, owing to the startling reports that have been freely circulated by many of the women living in the district as to outrages alleged to have been committed by him. Sergeant Thicke, accompanied by two or three other officers, proceeded to 22 Mulberry Street and knocked at the door. It was opened by a man named Pizer, supposed to be “Leather Apron.” Thicke at once took hold of the man, saying, “You are just the man I want.” He then charged Pizer with being concerned in the murder of the woman Chapman, and to this he made no reply. The arrested man, who is a boot finisher by trade, was then handed over to other officers and the house was searched. Thicke took possession of five sharp long-bladed knives—which, however, are used by men in Pizer’s trade—and also several old hats. With reference to the latter, several women who stated they were acquainted with the prisoner alleged he had been in the habit of wearing different hats. [Pizer] strongly denies that he is known by the name of “Leather Apron.”
The following official notice has been circulated throughout the metropolitan police district and all police stations throughout the country: “Description of a man who entered a passage of the house at which the murder was committed of a prostitute at 2 A.M. on the 8th.—Age 37; height, 5 feet, 7 inches; rather dark beard and moustache. Dress—shirt, dark jacket, dark vest and trousers, black scarf, and black felt hat. Spoke with foreign accent.”
Great excitement was caused during the afternoon on account of the arrival from Gravesend of a suspect whose appearance resembled in some respects that of “Leather Apron.” This man, whose name is William Henry Pigott, was taken into custody on Sunday night at the Pope’s Hall public house, Gravesend. Attention was first attracted to Pigott because he had some bloodstains on his clothes. The chief of the local police was communicated with, and a sergeant was sent to the Pope’s Head to investigate the case. On approaching the man, who seemed in a somewhat dazed condition, the sergeant saw that one of his hands bore several recently made wounds. Being interrogated as to the cause of this, Pigott made a somewhat rambling statement to the effect that while going down Brick Lane, Whitechapel, at half-past four on Sunday morning, he saw a woman fall in a fit. He stooped to pick her up and she bit his hand. Exasperated at this he struck her, but seeing two policemen coming up he t
hen ran away.
The news of Pigott’s arrival, which took place at 12:48, at once spread and in a few seconds the police station was surrounded by an excited crowd anxious to get a glimpse of the supposed murderer. Mrs. Fiddymont, who is responsible for the statement respecting a man resembling “Leather Apron” being at the Prince Albert public house on Saturday, was sent for, as were also other witnesses likely to be able to identify the prisoner. But after a very brief scrutiny it was the unanimous opinion that Pigott was not “Leather Apron.”
Intelligent observers who have visited the locality express the utmost astonishment that the murderer could have reached a hiding place after committing such a crime. He must have left the yard in Hanbury Street reeking with blood and yet, if the theory that the murder took place between five and six o’clock be accepted, he must have walked in almost broad daylight along streets comparatively well frequented even at that early hour without his startling appearance attracting the slightest attention. Consideration of this point has led many to the conclusion that the murderer came not from the wretched class from which the inmates of common lodging-houses are drawn. It is at any rate practically certain that the murderer would not have ventured to return to a common lodging-house smeared with blood as he must have been. The police are therefore exhorted not to confine their investigations, as they are accused of doing, to common lodging-houses and other resorts of the criminal and outcast, but to extend their inquiries to the class of householders, exceedingly numerous in the East End of London, who are in the habit of letting furnished lodgings without particular inquiry into the character or antecedents of those who apply for them.
The Big Book of Jack the Ripper Page 5