London's Shadows: The Dark Side of the Victorian City

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London's Shadows: The Dark Side of the Victorian City Page 7

by Gray, Drew D.


  Once again there were witnesses who had seen Kate in the moments before she died. At 1.35 a.m., just 10 minutes before PC Watkins found her dead body, Kate was seen talking to a man who was described as being `aged about 30, 5ft Tin or 5ft 8in, tall with a fair complexion and a fair moustache' He was dressed in a `pepper-and-salt loose jacket, red neckerchief and grey cloth cap with a There is a theory that the Ripper was a sailor, or sailors - probably Portuguese. On 30 August 1888, the Portuguese vessel, the City of Oporto docked in the Pool of London; the vessel left on 4 September, Polly Nichols was killed on 31 August. On 7 September the City of Cork arrived, sailing again on 11 September, Annie Chapman was murdered on the 8 September. On 27 September the City of Cork docked again for five days and the `double event' occurred on 30 September. Finally when the last victim, Mary Kelly, was slaughtered on 9 November the City of Cork had been in London for one day. Two men, Manuel Cruz Xavier and Jose Laurenco could have been responsible for the deaths, but apparently not acting together. This, however, seems unlikely given the ease with which the killer negotiated the streets of Whitechapel and evaded capture: it would suggest he was familiar with the layout of the streets and alleys, something that is unlikely to have been the case with Portuguese sailors however frequently they visited London. Once again the desire to pin the murders on an outsider has perhaps obscured reality. Whatever the truth, the killer certainly displayed some raw cunning that night. Walter Dew, who was a young detective in 1888 and went on to become the `man that caught Crippen' in 1911, recorded in his memoirs that, `Even now I am completely mystified as to how the terrible events of that night could have happened. What courage the man must have had, and what cunning to walk into so carefully prepared a trap and to get out again without anyone having the slightest suspicion that he was abroad 71

  Paul Begg argues that the description of the man seen with Eddowes is close enough to that of the man seen by Israel Schwartz for them to be one and the same and this is a much more persuasive observation - he had indeed crossed the City boundary from Berner Street. The witness, Joseph Lawende (another local Jew), could not be sure of the man but he was able to recognize Kate from her clothes. The timings of the murder and the various witness reports are informative: the square was empty at 1.30 a.m. and Kate was alive at 1.35 a.m. Just ten minutes later she was dead and the killer had removed two of her organs and escaped. The mysterious killer now left the police a series of clues, deliberately or otherwise.

  That he had come into the City from Whitechapel was clear but we also know that he then moved off back in the direction of the streets around Spitalfields because a scrap of bloodstained cloth was found in Goulston Street just before 3 a.m. by PC Long. The police constable had passed the spot at 2.15 a.m. and had reported seeing nothing unusual in the street at that time. According to the police report, the piece of apron `corresponded exactly with the part missing from the body of the murdered woman'.72 This was therefore part of Kate's apron and tangible evidence for the detectives. Above the piece of cloth, written in chalk, were the words `The Juwes are men who will not be blamed for nothing'." This curious message has exercised historians ever since and was almost immediately erased on the orders of Sir Charles Warren, the Metropolitan Police commissioner, for fear of it inflaming local prejudices against the Jewish community. Whether it was written by the killer is open to speculation but we can at least be sure that he dropped the bloody rag in his flight - that the writing appeared there as well may be coincidental. It has been noted since that the writing was in such a position on the wall that it would have to have been written in daylight. The author had chosen to write his message in chalk on the painted part of the entrance so that it was clear; he or she could not have done this in the dark, making the link with the killer much less likely. As with so many aspects of this case we will never know for certain.

  We do know a little more about Kate Eddowes. Eddowes hailed from Bermondsey and had been married but was long separated from her husband Thomas Conway, whose initials she had tattooed on her arm. Again, as with the other victims, the breakdown in the relationship was probably a result of Eddowes' alcoholism. Her current partner or common law husband was John Kelly and he lodged at 55 Flower and Dean Street. Earlier that evening Eddowes had been arrested by police for running up and down Aldgate High Street while `drunk and incapable' and impersonating a fire engine! At the police station she had given the name of `Kelly, which as we have seen has led the `Royal conspiracy' theorists to suggest that this explains the killer's decision to murder her in his search for Mary Kelly. If they are right then Eddowes was particularly unlucky in her choice of partner. However, this seems - as with most of the rest of the theory - rather far fetched. Eddowes gave her name as Kelly either because that was how she was known or perhaps to protect herself against repeat prosecutions if she came before the Thames Police Court Magistrate Mr Lushington, who took a dim view of drunkenness. She need not have worried as on this occasion the policeman on duty clearly did not want to bother with the paperwork and Kate was released just after midnight when she had sobered up a little. It almost goes without saying that if police procedure had been to hold drunks over night and take them before a magistrate the next morning, Eddowes would have lived at least a little longer.

  The `double event' caused yet more outrage and panic in the Whitechapel community. On the Sunday following the murders the streets were crammed with sightseers desperate to get a look at the murder scenes. The Pall Mall Gazette described the situation in colourful prose:

  On approaching the scene of the murders yesterday morning it was easy to see, no nearer than a mile away, that something unusual was in the air. Along all the main thoroughfares a constant stream of passengers, all impelled by the same motive of horrified curiosity, was rolling towards the district. The scanty details which had then transpired were eagerly passed from mouth to mouth. There was but one topic of conversation. The few acres of streets and houses between Mitre-square and Berner-street seemed to be a goal for which all London was making.

  ... From Commercial-road, Berner-street seemed a sea of heads from end to end ... At nightfall the stream ran the other way. There seemed an exodus of disreputability from the East. Along the two great avenues leading westward the miserable creatures who apparently have most to fear from the mysterious criminal seemed to be migrating to a safer and better-lit quarter of the metropolis. The noisy groups fleeing before the approaching terrors of night were conspicuous among the better-dressed wayfarers in Holborn and the Strand.74

  This immediate voyeurism was to be repeated outside Dorset Street following Mary Kelly's murder and is a reminder that `Ripper fever' is not a modern invention. Tours of the murder sites began in 1888, and opposite the London Hospital a wax works exhibition entertained shocked passers by with its reconstructions of the murder sites. As the crowds grew along Commercial Street costermongers were quick to set up stalls to sell them snacks of fruit and nuts and one enterprising retailer even opened a small shop in Mitre Square itself.''

  The panic grew in intensity and was raised to fever pitch when the chairman of the local vigilance committee was sent a bloodstained letter that contained part of a human kidney. The note had a definite style that was different from the other two letters, which either suggests a different hand or a deliberate attempt to disguise authorship, and its provenance is discussed in Chapter 3. It was addressed to the chairman of the committee, George Lusk, as coming `From Hell' and was signed `catch me when you can' Whether this was a deliberate attempt at obfuscation or the confident taunt of a psychotic killer the letter is believed to be the only one of hundreds received by the police and news agencies that is at all likely to be genuine. If it is genuine then we might note that there is no signature and certainly no reference to either `Saucy Jack' or `Jack the Ripper'. The police and press also received several suggestions from members of the public as to how they might catch the murderer. As the Gazette's correspondent pointed out some of these were `positive
ly idiotic' but they also reflect the unusual level of public engagement with the crimes. The police were advised to use `baby-faced pugilists' who could disguise themselves as women and then trap the unwitting assassin: `Twenty game men of this class in women's clothing loitering about Whitechapel would have much more chance than any number of heavy-footed policemen. Another suggested the killer was a deranged army doctor suffering from a `Jekyll and Hyde'-style personality disorder while once again an escaped lunatic, this time from Leavensden, was also put forward as the likely culprit. As we shall see when we look at the Police's attempts to catch `Jack' the sheer volume of public intervention in the case may well have made it harder to track down the real killer.76

  As far as most experts are concerned the Whitechapel murders came to an end in November 1888 with the final murder being even more brutal than those that preceded it. Mary Kelly's body was discovered by Thomas Bowyer when he visited Kelly's room at 13 Miller's Court to try and extract some of the rent money that she owed to his boss and her landlord John McCarthy. McCarthy owned several properties in the area and had connections with at least one other of the murdered women.77 He had rented 26 Dorset Street to Kelly and her boyfriend Joseph Barnett in January of 1888 possibly because he knew the couple and wanted them to live close to him at 27, where he kept a small shop. Since 26 Dorset Street opened onto an alley called Miller's Court he had renamed the property accordingly.7R Kelly had fallen into arrears to the tune of about 30s, which represented almost two months rent so it is understandable that McCarthy was keen to get something from her. However, when Thomas Bowyer arrived at number 13 he found the door locked. After getting no response to his knocking he peered through a hole in the window that had been broken during a row that Kelly and Barnett had had because she had been allowing a friend of hers to sleep in the room. Bowyer later recollected that `the sight we saw I cannot drive away from my mind, it looked more like the work of a devil than a In horror at what he had seen he rushed back to get McCarthy.

  When he arrived McCarthy saw Mary's dead body lying naked on the bed with blood everywhere. Presumably to avoid a local panic (or to protect his own property from voyeurs and souvenir hunters) he dispatched Bowyer to fetch the police with an admonishment to keep what he had seen to himself. Dr Phillips arrived at 11.15 p.m. and saw the body through the window, Inspector Abberline turned up at half past and a photographer recorded the scene (possibly the first instance of crime scene photography in British police history). The examination of the body was delayed while bloodhounds (to be employed in a vain attempt to track the killer) were called for but never arrived. Eventually the door was forced open and the first police officer to see the extent of the damage to Kelly was Walter Dew. He described it as the `most gruesome memory of the whole of my police career'.80

  The post-mortem makes for grim reading as Kelly's body was terribly mutilated - almost unrecognizable, which has led some to speculate that it may not have been Kelly at all. Her body had been taken apart: her chest had been opened up and her heart removed (and was not found in the room), her breast lay on the bedside table and her reproductive organs had been taken out. Blood and human tissue were splattered about the room, suggesting a frenzied attack rather than a calm surgical procedure. Dew thought it was the work of a lunatic: `the man at times must have been quite mad. There can be no other explanation for those wicked mutilations. It may have been sex mania, blood lust, or some other form of insanity, but madness there certainly was."'

  At just 25 years of age Kelly was the youngest victim and was considered to be a 'good looking young woman, of fair and fresh-coloured complexion'. 12 She had a son, a boy aged 6 or 7 according to the papers, who lived with her but thankfully was not with her that night. Presumably Kelly had friends that were used to looking after her boy when she was working. Kelly seems to have been very down at the time of her death and this was not unusual; the utter humiliation of prostitution caused many of London's `unfortunates' to take their own lives and on the night of her death Kelly supposedly told one acquaintance that if she could get no money she would `do away with herself' 83 Interestingly, Kelly has been described as a frightened woman. At the inquest into her murder her boyfriend Joseph Barnett (himself a suspect in some minds) remarked that she had expressed this fear to him several times and that he had read newspapers to her about the killings. In his memoirs Walter Dew wrote that, `There was no woman in the whole of Whitechapel more frightened of Jack the Ripper than Marie Kelly'. 14 This has obviously spurred the conspiracy theories surrounding the Duke of Clarence and the Royal Family but there are other interesting things to note about Kelly's murder and its aftermath.

  On 12 November George Hutchinson walked into the local police station to make a statement. He had met and spoken to Kelly at 2 a.m. on the morning of 9 November when she asked him for money. Hutchinson had none to give and Kelly wandered off and he saw another man approach her. He `tapped her on the shoulder and said something to her' whereupon they `both burst out laughing'. The man was carrying a small parcel with a strap around it. Hutchinson followed them into Miller's Court and overheard snatches of their conversation (or said he did; his evidence has a rather constructed feel to it - as if he is describing a composite of newspaper speculations). She said `alright' and the man replied `alright my dear you will be comfortable' Hutchinson watched them until they disappeared from view then he waited for three quarters of an hour and then left. Why did he hang around? The man he saw was about 31 to 35 years old and 5 ft. to 5 ft. 6 in. tall, so once again not dissimilar to previous witness statements. Again, how far this reflects what Hutchinson saw or what he wanted the police to think it is hard to say. In his report Abberline noted that Hutchinson was apparently surprised to see `a man so well dressed in her company" The description was quite particular, noting the buttons on his coat and a 'very thick gold chain' that he was wearing. Hutchinson also suggested the man looked Jewish. This enabled The Illustrated Police News to print a detailed, if stereotypical, picture of the suspect. The inquest into Mary Kelly's death was held at Shoreditch Town Hall and opened on the 12th before concluding a day later with the coroner needing little persuasion that it was a case of murder. Little information was made public for fear of hampering the investigation and this starved the press of news. As a result newspaper interest swiftly faded away following Kelly's death. Two days prior to Kelly's murder the government had offered a pardon to any accomplice of the Whitechapel murder and on the same day Sir Charles Warren resigned.

  This is the point at which most writers agree that the killings ceased. There were several more arrests and a number of men were chased through the streets with shouts of `lynch him' because they were mistaken for the Ripper. One was well known to the London Hospital, perhaps suggesting he was suffering from a mild form of mental illness.R6 He was accosted because he had been seen near to where Martha Tabram had been murdered and had frightened a female passer by. Another suspect sporting a blackened face claimed to be Jack the Ripper' and was jumped on by two local men, one a former soldier, and a crowd soon surrounded him and started abusing the man who had to be rescued by the police. At Leman Street Police Station he asserted that he was a doctor at the London Hospital; again it maybe that he was suffering from some form of mental illness. The police soon released him.87 On 13 November the police arrested Thomas Murphy at the Holborn workhouse. Murphy gave a poor account of himself and his movements and looked as if he was or had been a sailor - another rough fit with some of the, albeit conflicting, witness statements.R8 For several years the shadow of the Whitechapel killer loomed over the streets of East London. Unsolved murders were invariably attributed to `Saucy Jack' but there were only two events in which he could conceivably have been involved. These were the deaths of Alice McKenzie and Frances Coles.

  Alice McKenzie was a 40-year-old prostitute who was killed in Castle Alley near Wentworth Street. The alley was known to locals but it was not the sort of place a stranger would go unless he had been taken there b
efore; again this suggests a local man with local knowledge. McKenzie was murdered and her body attacked but not mutilated to the same degree as the other victims. Dr Bagster Phillips examined her in a makeshift mortuary - a shed in Pavillion Yard - that, in the opinion of The Times, `tended greatly to the thwarting of justice having such a place to perform such examinations in'.R9 Almost a year after the killer spree had begun in Whitechapel, and despite the huge interest and spotlight that had been thrown upon the district, no dedicated mortuary or coroner's court had been established. Whitechapel, it would seem, simply did not warrant any real money being spent on it. Once again the streets were crowded with interested onlookers and worried locals. McKenzie's death, in July 1889, prompted the police to step up patrols in the area but there were no more killings that year. McKenzie's killer had evaded capture by a whisker since, as at Mitre Square, a policeman passed the spot just 6 minutes before she was found. This might explain why her body was not as savagely hacked about as some of the previous victims. The police report on Bagster Phillip's examination certainly drew links between Alice's wounds and the earlier killings:

 

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