The second, or possibly third, victim - depending on how one views the murder of Martha Tabram - was Annie Chapman. `Dark' Annie, as she was also known, had been married to a coachman and had three children, but following the death of her eldest child Emily from meningitis, her marriage collapsed. It is very possible that this was simply the last straw for her husband; Annie's character and her alcoholism had undoubtedly undermined the relationship some time before. Her husband continued to support her after their separation in 1884 but his death in December 1886 forced Annie to resort to prostitution alongside some part-time work selling matches or flowers on the streets and some piece-work in crocheting. Annie was dying from a terminal disease of the lungs and brain and in early September had admitted herself to the casual ward of the workhouse. On 7 September she had again complained of feeling ill to her friend, Amelia Farmer, but said, `It's no use my giving way. I must pull myself together and go out and get some money or I shall have no lodgings''' It was a fatal decision.
At 5.30 the next morning (8 September), Elizabeth Long was on her way to Spitalfields Market and noticed a man and woman on the street close to number 29 Hanbury Street. The woman she identified as Annie Chapman but she did not know the man. However, she offered a loose description of an individual who looked `foreign' and was `dark':
He had a brown deerstalker hat and I think he had a dark coat on. But I'm not quite sure about that. I couldn't say what age he was but he looked over forty and he looked a little taller than the woman. He looked like a foreigner. He had a shabby genteel appearance. I could hear them talking loudly. He said to her, `Will you?' She said `Yes'. They were still standing there as I passed. I didn't look back.52
Mrs Long may well have seen Annie's killer because the next person to see Annie was John Davis. At 6 a.m. he came down from his third floor room to the hallway that ran the length of the house in Hanbury Street. Going out into the yard he found the dead body of a woman in a recess between the steps of the house and an old rotten fence. He ran back to Hanbury Street and called out to two passers by: `Men! Come here! Here's a sight. A woman must have been murdered!'53 The police were alerted and Annie's body taken to the mortuary. Outside the house a large crowd began to gather, curious voyeurs to an unfolding horror. The papers reported that:
Not even during the riots and fog of February 1886, have I seen London so thoroughly excited as it is to-night.[sic] The Whitechapel fiend murdered his fourth victim this morning and still continues undetected, unseen, and unknown. There is a panic in Whitechapel which will instantly extend to other districts should he change his locality, as the four murders are in everybody's mouth. The papers are full of them and nothing else is talked of.54
The press were clearly linking Annie's murder with those of Tabram and Smith as well as Polly Nichols. When the inquest into Annie Chapman's death opened on 10 September the press went to town on the inadequacies of the police. Across the Atlantic the detective department was described as `utterly hopeless' and the press stated that `the police have no clue. The London police and detective force is probably the stupidest in the world'" Most of the derision was aimed at Sir Charles Warren, the Chief Commissioner who was accused of militarizing the police rather than training detectives. Some of this criticism was well deserved and we will return to it in Chapter 8. A letter in The Times criticized the actions of the police and mortuary officials in the immediate wake of Annie's death. In the letter writer's view it was a contempt of the coroner's court to wash the body since `there would probably have appeared on the body some finger mark, which would have been very useful' The correspondent, who probably had too much faith in the usefulness or otherwise of fingerprint evidence in 1888, also stated that the killer was probably `a person making research from motives of science or curiosity, an opinion that has persisted in attempts to track down the identity of the murderer.56
The inquest was also told that the poor woman's body had suffered mutilations similar to those found on the previous victim. However, the chief medical witness - Dr George Bagster Phillips - was reluctant to be explicit about these. He told the coroner `I think I had better not go into further detail of these mutilations which can only be painful to the feelings of the jury and the public' Dr Phillips suggested that the murder weapon must have been a 'very sharp knife with a thin narrow blade at least six to eight inches in length, probably longer'. He dismissed the idea that a bayonet could have done the work but conceded that it could have been a surgical instrument with the caveat that `ordinary surgical cases might not contain such an instrument'. Crucially he then went on to tell the court that the `whole of the body was not present. The absent portions are from the abdomen. The way in which these portions were extracted showed anatomical knowledge'. 51 Once again the link with the medical profession, however tenuous, was made. It has proved a hard connection to break and has lent weight to the theories surrounding Sir William Gull, Tumblety and Cream and, more recently, Dr Williams.
The inquest was adjourned for two weeks before Phillips was pressed to explain what he meant by his observation that part of the body was missing. While the press did not report this part of the evidence an article in The Lancet on 29 September 1888 revealed the extent of the murderer's actions and why Phillips believed a medical man may have been responsible.
The abdomen had been entirely laid open ... the intestines, severed from their mesenteric attachments, had been lifted out of the body, and placed by the shoulder of the corpse; while from the pelvis the uterus and its appendages, with the upper portion of the vagina and the posterior two-thirds of the bladder, had been entirely removed. No trace of these parts could be found, and the incisions were cleanly cut [...] obviously the work was that of an expert - of one, at least, who had such knowledge of anatomical or pathological examinations as to be enabled to secure the pelvic organs with one sweep of a knife.58
This murder took place when it was light, probably at about 5.30 in the morning; there were also plenty of people about - Spitalfields Market had opened at five o'clock. In the opinion of the police surgeon it took the murderer 15 minutes to complete his work. He then had to make his escape, possibly with hands covered in blood (there was no evidence that he stopped to wash his hands at the tap in the yard), carrying not only the murder weapons but also part of Annie with him. Did no one see him, or did he not stand out in anyway? The first scenario is unlikely, with so many people living in this busy area of Whitechapel, so we must conclude that the murderer blended in with his surroundings and had a very secure knowledge of the local geography as David Canter has suggested. Annie had taken her killer into the yard behind 29 Hanbury Street, a site familiar to local prostitutes and used by many people. No one would have been surprised to hear voices in the early hours but there was a chance to catch `Jack' on this occasion. Before John Davis discovered Annie's dead body another man had gone out into the yard next door to answer the call of nature. He heard a cry and the sound of something heavy hitting the fence. He ignored it and went back inside, if he had but peered over the boundary he may well have been able to identify the Ripper. One of the features of the Ripper murders is the luck that the killer seemed to possess - on several occasions he came extremely close to being discovered committing his crimes.
The next three weeks were characterized by mounting panic with the failure of the police to catch the killer. Inhabitants of Whitechapel banded together into self-defence and vigilante groups. Suspected individuals were hounded in the streets, notably an unsavoury character called John Piser or `Leather Apron'. Piser was a Jew who was known to prey on prostitutes, beating them and even threatening to `rip them' with the long butcher's knife he carried. The papers identified him as the murderer and he went into hiding. When he was eventually discovered he was taken into custody as much for his own safety as that of the local whores. At the station he was searched and, as the newspapers reported, he owned a strange assortment of possessions but none that singled him out as a killer. He had `a heap of rags, comp
rising pieces of dress fabrics, old and dirty linen, two purses of a kind usually used by women, two or three pocket handkerchiefs ... two small tin boxes, a small cardboard box, a small leather strap, which might serve the purpose of a garterstring, and one spring onion. 60 He was described as 5 ft. 7 in., `slightly built' and `dressed shabbily', he wore a beard and moustache and a cloth skullcap `which did not improve his appearance' in the opinion of The Times reporter.61 Piser, while a cruel and violent man, was not a killer (or at least not the serial killer that was at large in 1888) and had an alibi that satisfied the police. Inspector Abberline was convinced he had nothing to do with the murders. The treatment of Piser was symptomatic of the panic that gripped the East End. Lynch mobs prowled the streets, and dubious looking characters and those carrying Gladstone bags or similar (in other words, those that looked like `medical men') were set upon and chased through the streets.
Figure 2 `Is he the Whitechapel murderer?, The Illustrated Police News' front page coverage of Annie Chapman's murder was typical of the sensationalist reporting of the Whitechapel murders.59
On 1 October, the Central News Agency announced that they had received a letter (dated 25 September) supposedly written by the killer. At first it was treated as a prank or sick joke but in the light of events that day (and the receipt of a second note in the same handwriting) the police were forced to take it more seriously.
Dear Boss,
I keep on hearing the police have caught me, but they won't fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me rare fits. I am down on whores, and I shan't quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now? I love my work. I want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job. I did write with it, but it went thick like glue, and I can't use it. Red ink is fit enough, ha, ha, ha! The next job I do I shall clip the lady's ears and send them back to the police officers just for jolly. Wouldn't you keep this letter back till I do a bit more work; then give it out straight. My knife is so nice and sharp, I want to get to work right away, if I get the chance. Good luck,
Yours truly,
Jack the ripper
Don't mind me giving the trade name. Wasn't good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands, curse it. They say I'm a doctor. Ha! Ha! Ha!
It was followed by a postcard dated 1 October that read:
I was not codding, dear old Boss, when I gave you the tip. You'll hear about Saucy Jack's work tomorrow. Double event this time. Number One squealed a bit. Couldn't finish straight off. Had no time to get ears for police. Thanks for keeping last letter back till I got to work again.
Jack the Ripper
The press now had a name for the murderer and what a name! If a journalist was responsible (as seems likely) it was an inspired intervention. Whether these two communications were genuine or not has exercised ripperologists ever since. A third letter signed by the Ripper was received several days later but was widely believed to be a clever hoax. Hundreds of Ripper letters were sent to the police over the course of the crisis and beyond, almost all of them are now widely accepted to be fakes. The public engagement with the Whitechapel murders in this way is one of the most fascinating, if disturbing, aspects of the case. False trails have featured in several serial murders since 1888, some being laid by the killers while others have been set down by attention seekers or mischief makers.62 Whatever the real identity of the letter writer, the `double event' he referred to did take place.
At 1 a.m. on 30 September, the body of Elizabeth Stride, known as `Long Liz, was found in Berner Street (now Henriques Street), Whitechapel. Berner Street was a `tolerably respectable street' just off Commercial Street. It was poorly lit but had recently seen the addition of a new Board School. Opposite the school was a building occupied by several Jewish families that was also home to the International and Educational Club, which held regular meetings on all manner of `improving' subjects. On the night of the 29th its members were enjoying a discussion entitled `Judaism and Socialism'.63 The club's steward, Lewis Diemschutz, had been out that evening and when he returned to the yard with his barrow from Crystal Palace, his pony shied at an object in the yard. On striking a match he was able to make out the body of a woman. At first he feared it was his wife, passed out drunk from carousing while he had been at work, and he ignored it. But on closer examination he realized that the woman's throat had been cut - probably only moments before. In the opinion of Dr Phillips, who examined her at 1.16 a.m., she had been `seized by the shoulders and placed on the ground and that the perpetrator of the deed was on her right side when he inflicted the cut'.64 The body was still warm and the doctor believed she had probably been attacked at about 12.45-12.55 a.m. and so Diemschutz must have come very close to disturbing the killer. We can be quite clear about this because, once again, there were witnesses who saw Liz just before her death. Indeed the killer may well have had to hide himself when Diemschutz arrived unannounced.
On the night of Stride's murder Israel Schwartz turned into Berner Street from Commercial Road at 12.45 a.m. When he reached the gateway to Dutfield's yard (where Liz's body was discovered) he saw a man stop and speak to a woman. The man then attacked her and threw her down. On seeing Schwartz the attacker shouted at him, calling out `Lipski!' (The word `Lipski' was derogatory slang for a Jew, referring as it did to a Jewish murderer hanged in 1887.) There was another person in the street at the time, a man in a hat who was lighting a pipe. According to Inspector Abberline, who interviewed him, Schwartz spoke little or no English. The man that shouted at him evidently alarmed him and he ran off, only for the `pipe' man to follow him.65 Abberline was not clear from his interview with this witness whether the two men were working together or if the man with the pipe was equally unnerved by the attack on the woman and just ran away in the same direction as Schwartz. No other witnesses could be found in Berner Street despite house to house enquiries.
Schwartz later identified Stride's body as that of the woman he had seen in the gateway. The man he described was about 30 years old, 5 ft. 5 in. tall, with a fair complexion, small brown moustache and brown hair, and was dressed in dark clothes with a black cap that had a peak. The other man was taller, about 5 ft. 11 in. and had a brown moustache and wide brim felt hat. Schwartz did not give evidence at the inquest, and it is not clear why. What is likely is that he saw the killer, but whether it was the man attacking the woman or the man watching while smoking his pipe, or two men working together we cannot be sure. Again the killer had escaped arrest by a whisker and his luck held.
Elizabeth Stride's story was a similar one to the other Ripper victims. Despite her claim that her family had been drowned in a well-documented shipping tragedy (the loss of the Princess Alice that she told people she had survived) her tale was more mundane. Stride was a Swedish woman who had married an Englishman in 1869. The couple separated in 1884 because of Liz's drinking and her husband died two years later. Another curious piece of evidence emerged from the police inquiry. On the night of her death Liz had bought some grapes from Matthew Packer's shop at 44 Berner Street. Packer had shut up shop at 12.30 that night since it was raining and `it was no good for me to keep open '66 Neither he nor his wife saw anything suspicious that night. At the mortuary Packer identified Stride as the woman he had served and said that she had been joined by a man shortly afterwards. This was at about midnight.67
Liz's body had not been mutilated leading some researchers to suggest that she was not a Ripper victim. The third letter the Central News Agency had received also denied that she was killed by the same hand. However, it seems likely that the simple reason for a change in the killer's actions was occasioned by the arrival of Diemschutz's pony and barrow. Realizing he was about to be discovered, the killer fled, leaving his work unfinished. This of course ech
oes what the second letter stated: `Number One squealed a bit. Couldn't finish straight off. Had no time to get ears for police.' However, it is more plausible that this letter was another hoax and perhaps written after the event by someone (in the press pack or even the police) who had some knowledge of the events of that night. Whatever the reality was, the real killer, unsatisfied by his failure to carry out his ritualized killing by the untimely arrival of Diemschutz's pony and barrow, set off again and crossed from Whitechapel into the jurisdiction of the City of London Police to kill again.
While the Metropolitan Police under Abberline were investigating the Berner Street killing, another woman was attacked across the City border in Mitre Square. Catherine Eddowes was, like the other victims, a casual prostitute in her forties. If the killer had been diverted from his purpose by Diemschutz then he more than made up for it in Mitre Square. PC Watkins of the City force entered Mitre Square at 1.45 a.m. - trudging across the cobbles that exist to this day. Mitre Square was surrounded by buildings on all sides, including lodging houses that served as homes to a number of people including a City of London police officer. PC Watkins had crossed the square 15 minutes earlier and had found it deserted. Now he discovered Kate's mutilated corpse. Her throat had been cut in the same manner as the other canonical victims but when Dr Sequeria and Dr Gordon Brown, the City police surgeons, arrived they found that the killer had incised a V under each eye and had cut the tip off her nose. He had also removed one of her kidneys and her uterus. She was lying on her back and her intestines had been `torn from the body, and some of them lodged in the wound on the side of her neck'68 Once again the police surgeon's report alluded to medical knowledge but suggested that the actions could have been those of `a hunter, a butcher, a slaughter man, as well as a student in surgery or a properly qualified surgeon' 69 Kate's pockets had been rifled through and turned out, suggesting the killer was perhaps looking for something or wanted it to appear like a robbery. But why would he bother? Her possessions, like the other victims, were minimal and pathetic: Kate had a small cardboard box that held two pawn tickets (in the name of Jane Kelly and Emily Burrell, both giving false addresses), it is unlikely she had any money for the murderer to steal but it is possible he took away some personal effects as trophies.
London's Shadows: The Dark Side of the Victorian City Page 6