The Diary of Jack the Ripper - The Chilling Confessions of James Maybrick

by Harrison, Shirley

  * * *

  But over 20 years later, Sir Robert Anderson stirred up a hornets’ nest. As Dr Anderson, he was Assistant Commissioner, Metropolitan Police CID in charge of the investigations from October 6th. In 1910 his memoirs, The Lighter Side of My Official Life, were serialised in Blackwood’s Magazine. He says: ‘The Jack the Ripper letter which is preserved in the Police Museum at New Scotland Yard is the creation of an enterprising London journalist.’

  This comment convinced many Ripper writers that the famous ‘Dear Boss’ letter was a hoax. In a footnote to his memoirs Sir Robert Anderson had written: ‘I should almost be tempted to disclose the identity of the murderer and of the pressman who wrote the letter.’ He added, as though to protect his uncertainty, ‘provided the publishers would accept all responsibility in view of a possible libel action.’

  In 1914 Sir Melville Macnaghten also poured cold water on the Dear Boss letters: ‘In this ghastly production I have always thought I could discern the stained forefinger of the journalist.’ But which journalist?

  Two decades after this, in 1931, a former Star journalist named Best, then a spry 70 years old, told a colleague that he had indeed written all the letters ‘to keep the business alive’. A strange statement, considering the police were struggling with a monster who was all too alive and a situation that hardly needed stimulus. He claimed he had done it with a flattened Waverley nib to give the appearance of semi-literacy. Sue Iremonger says that the first Dear Boss letter was definitely not written with a Waverley nib.

  Then in 1993, the Littlechild letter came to light, in which, in 1913, Chief Inspector Littlechild named two journalists allegedly suspected by Scotland Yard at the time. They were Tom Bulling (mispelt Bullen by Littlechild), of the Central News Agency and Charles Moore, his boss. Moore was a regular guest at smart Monday night dinner parties given by Sir Melville Macnaghten.

  Strangely, the Littlechild letter contradicts Paul Gainey and Stuart Evans’s earlier argument. For having focused on police belief in the letter and postcard, by comparing them with the handwriting of their suspect Tumbelty, they use Littlechild’s suspects, Bulling and Moore, as proof that the letters were not genuine.

  However, for those who accept without question the role of handwriting, the Jack the Ripper A-Z authors note that neither that of Bulling nor Moore matches that of the ‘Dear Boss’ letter or postcard.

  So these communications, especially those initialled by Chief Inspector Swanson himself, continue to be the subject of serious research. Sue Iremonger, introduced to the letters through her contact with the Diary, has embarked on an exhaustive study of their form.

  Arthur Conan Doyle, when asked how Sherlock Holmes would solve the Ripper mystery, replied that he would look for a killer with American connections. His reason was language. The Americanisms ‘Dear Boss’, ‘fix me’ and ‘shan’t quit’ would have been familiar expressions to Maybrick from his long links with Norfolk, Virginia and from his American wife. There are other, fascinating, links between Conan Doyle and the Maybricks. Conan Doyle as a trained doctor owned a copy of Materia Medica which seems to have influenced the Diary writer; he was aware of Pauline Cranstoun, to whom Maybrick went for advice and had received a letter from a Liverpool merchant, “who burns to know who Jack the Ripper is”! These letters have, like so many others, been lost.

  * * *

  We were all, by now, deeply immersed in the Ripper correspondence. My delight at the discovery that there had been a letter posted in Liverpool was dashed when I learned that, like so much of the vital evidence in this story, it had disappeared. Even so, it should not be ignored.

  The Liverpool letter was, it seems, first noted in J. Hall Richardson’s book From The City to Fleet Street published in 1927 and quoted again by Donald McCormick in 1959 and Robin Odell in Jack the Ripper Fact and Fiction in 1965.

  Liverpool

  29th inst

  Beware I shall be at work on the 1st and 2nd Inst, in the Minories at twelve midnight, and I give the authorities a good chance, but there is never a policeman near when I am at work. Yours Jack the Ripper.

  The postscript was equally important. It read;

  What fools the police are. I even give them the name of the street where I am living. Prince William Street.

  Prince William Street is in one of Liverpool’s poorest areas, Toxteth. In 1888 it was lined with tenement lodgings used by ladies described as ‘our disillusioned sisters of the pavement’. Since Prince William Street lay a few yards from the road which runs between Battlecrease House and the city centre, Maybrick would have passed by every day on his way to the office and must have known it well.

  It has been pointed out in the The Jack the Ripper A-Z that the expression ‘inst’ means ‘of this month’ and cannot therefore be used for an event in the future. But Maybrick would not have been the first businessman to misuse such a word in a somewhat pompous attempt to sound efficient and correct. Many still do.

  On October 2nd the Evening News was very near the mark when it reported: ‘A belief is gaining ground that the murderer is not a frequenter of common lodging houses but that he occupies a single room or perhaps finds refuge in an empty warehouse. He is supposed to make his home somewhere between Middlesex Street and Brick Lane.’

  The next piece of the jigsaw was detected by Paul Begg who has a complete copy of the Ripper letters. On October 5th 1888 a letter was sent from journalist Bulling to Chief Constable A.F. Williamson.

  Dear Mr Williamson,

  At 5 minutes to 9 o’clock tonight we received the following letter, the envelope of which I enclose by which you will see it is in the same handwriting as the previous communication.

  Yours truly T.J.Bulling

  5. Oct 1888

  Dear friend,

  In the name of God hear me I swear I did not Kill the female whose body was found at Whitehall. If she was an honest woman I will hunt down and destroy her murderer. If she was a whore God will bless the hand that slew her. for the woman of Moab and Median shall die and their blood shall mingle with the dust. I never harm any others or the Divine power that protects and helps me in my grand work would quit for ever. Do as I do and the light of my glory shall shine upon you. I must get to work tomorrow treble event this time yes yes three must be ripped will send you a bit of face by post I promise this dear old Boss. The police now reckon my work was a practical joke well well Jacky’s a very practical joker ha ha ha Keep this back till three are wiped out and you can show the cold meat.

  Yours truly

  Jack the Ripper

  The letter refers to a headless, limbless body washed up on October 3rd at the Victoria Embankment on the Thames. It has never been published either in the press or in books before it appeared in Paul Feldman’s text. With justifiable delight he remembered a line in the Diary which was written immediately after the double event.

  Will visit the city of whores soon, very soon, I wonder if I could do three?

  As far as I am aware, that letter and the Diary are the only places in which the dream of a triple murder is expressed!

  On October 6th the Liverpool Echo reported anxiously beneath its headline ‘The Whitechapel Murders’: ‘There can be no doubt that the Whitechapel murderer is not in that district and did not live there at the time of the murders.’ The Liverpool Daily Post carried a story on October 11th with the headline: ‘Alleged Liverpool Clue’. It read: ‘A certain detective of the Criminal Investigation Department has recently journeyed to Liverpool and there traced the movements of a man which have been proved of a somewhat mysterious kind. The height of this person and his description are fully ascertained and amongst other things he was in possession of a black leather bag. This person suddenly left Liverpool for London and for some time occupied apartments in a well known first class hotel in the West End.’ The story claimed that the man was in the habit of visiting the poorest parts of the East End and that he left behind in the hotel his black leather bag containing certain items of cl
othing, documents and prints ‘of an obscene description. It has been suggested that the mysterious person landed in Liverpool from America’.

  Stewart Evans and Paul Gainey have, understandably, used this story to point the finger once more at Tumbelty, who they say had arrived from the United States in June 1888 and was therefore likely to escape by the same route.

  But they fail to mention that, according to the custom of the day, the hotel in question — The Charing Cross — had advertised in the Times appealing for owners of lost property to claim their belongings. Paul Feldman traced that advertisement to June 14th 1888. There, among the list of names was one that sounded all too familiar: S.E Mibrac. Mibrac is not a name that exists in any dictionary of names; it was either misread by hotel staff or it is Maybrick again playing games. We know that James Maybrick was in London in June — the Diary tells us so.

  I will visit Michael this coming June.

  Also on October 6th a badly spelt, threatening letter was posted in London N.W. It was in a well formed hand — the signature was felt by Sue Iremonger and Anna Koren to be the same as that of the September 25th letter.

  6 October 1888

  You though yourself very clever when you informed the police. But you made a mistake if you though I dident see you. Now I know you know me and I see your little game and I mean to finish you and send your ears to your wife if you show this to the police or help them if you do I will finish you. It no use your trying to get out of my way because I have you when you dont expect it and I keep my word as you soon see and rip you up. Yours truly Jack the Ripper.

  The letter remained undisturbed in Home Office files at the Record Office until it was found by my publisher at the time, Robert Smith. Like the October 5th letter this too has never previously been published and could not have been seen by a forger at any time. This letter was probably intended for Schwartz, who was being kept out of harm’s way by the police for his own protection, or for Lawende who was also being guarded. It was sent from the postal district of Michael Maybrick’s chambers in Regents Park.

  The language of the letter is marked by exactly the same vindictive violence and clear expression of intent that appears in the Diary.

  Damn it damn it damn it the bastard almost caught me. curse him to hell I will cut him up next time, so help me. a few minutes and I would have done, bastard, I will seek him out, teach him a lesson.

  On that day too, the Daily Telegraph had published two artist’s impressions of the same man whom, it said, they were seeking in connection with the murders. They appeared in the Liverpool Echo two days later. These would seem to bear a resemblance to Maybrick reproduced in the picture section. According to the newspaper description the man was of education and means, probably about 40 years old, with dark clothes and dark silk handkerchief around his neck. ‘His hat is probably a dark stiff bowler and his appearance entirely respectable. His manner is quiet and composed and there is nothing to betray the monomaniac, except a certain mingled restlessness and cunning in the expression of the eyes.’

  October 6th was a Saturday — the day which seems to be pivotal to all the murders. Did Maybrick stay with Michael after the double murder and reading the morning papers feel driven to write to one of those who said they had seen him and whose evidence could convict him?

  By October 12th and 13th, various newspapers were reporting that steamers leaving Liverpool were being watched.

  * * *

  Back home with his family after the double murder on September 30th, Maybrick would have watched and waited. As always, thoughts of Florie both titillated and enraged him. A lonely man, sick in mind and body he turned once more for solace to his best friend George Davidson.

  Tonight I will celebrate by wining and dining George. I am in a good mood, believe I will allow the whore the pleasure of her whore master, will remark an evening in the city will do her good, will suggest a concert. I have no doubt the carriage will take the bitch straight to him… I will go to sleep thinking about all they are doing. I cannot wait for the thrill.

  On October 12th the Manchester Guardian carried a disturbing story about an event that had taken place in Liverpool. ‘On Wednesday evening a young woman was walking along Sheil Road, Liverpool, not far from Sheil Park. She was stopped by an elderly woman, aged about 60, who in an agitated and excited manner urged her most earnestly not to go into the park. She explained that a few minutes earlier she had been resting on one of the seats in the park when she was accosted by a respectable-looking gentleman in a black coat, light trousers and a soft felt hat, who enquired if she knew any loose women in the neighbourhood and immediately afterwards produced a knife with a long, thin blade and stated that he intended to kill as many women in Liverpool as in London, adding that he would send the ears of the first victim to the editor of a Liverpool paper. The old woman, who was trembling violently as she related this story, stated that she was so terribly frightened, she hardly knew how she got away from this man.’

  She never realised that she might have been face to face with Jack the Ripper himself!

  On October 15th, newspapers in Leeds reported that Jack the Ripper had been seen in Chorley, a small town a few miles north of Liverpool.

  The editor of Ripperana, Nick Warren, discovered an article in the Daily Telegraph of 20th October describing how a tall man aged about forty-five and six foot tall walked into the leather shop of a Mr Marsh at 218 Jubilee Street, Mile End Road, on October 15th. His daughter, Emily, was behind the counter as her father was out. The stranger asked for the address of Mr Lusk whose name appeared on a vigilance committee reward bill in the shop window. Emily read out Mr Lusk’s address — Alderney Road, Globe Road — and he noted it down. She was anxious about his furtive appearance — he kept his eyes on the floor — and sent the shop boy after him to see what he did. The stranger was described as wearing a black felt hat pulled over his eyes. He had a dark beard and moustache and spoke ‘with what was taken to be an Irish accent.’

  The following day, Tuesday October 16th, George Lusk, president of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, found a three inch cardboard box in his mail. Inside was half a human kidney preserved in spirits of wine along with a barely intelligible letter that has since disappeared.

  From hell

  Mr Lusk,

  Sor, I send you half the kidne I took from one woman prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was very nise. I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer

  signed

  Catch me when you can Mishter Lusk.

  The City pathologist, Dr Sedgwick Saunders said at the time that the kidney did not belong to Catharine Eddowes and that it was probably a hospital specimen, while Dr Openshaw, curator of the Pathology Museum at the London Hospital, declared it to be the ‘ginny’ kidney of a 45-year-old woman with Bright’s disease. Why only half a kidney? The Diary answers this;

  Sweet sugar and tea,

  Could have paid my small fee,

  But instead I did flee

  and by way showed my glee

  By eating cold kidney for supper.

  David Forshaw believes that Maybrick might, like other serial killers, have cannibalised parts of his victims to assert absolute power over them. It is possible that the Ripper believed, like some primitive cannibal tribes that eating human remains was a magical way of gaining power, perhaps some sort of life force from the dead person. Later in the Diary, as his behaviour grew less controlled, Maybrick had nightmares of cutting up Florie and serving her to the children.

  During the summer, Florie had been to see Dr Hopper herself. She expressed deep anxiety that her husband was taking some ‘very strong medicine which has a bad effect on him’ and that he always seemed worse after each dose. She begged the doctor to speak to him and stop him. Her concern eventually produced a backlash in October, the month of Maybrick’s 50th birthday.

  The whore has informed the bumbling buffoon I am in the habit of taking strong medicine
. I was furious when the bitch told me. So furious I hit her. ha. The whore begged me not to do so again. It was a pleasure a great deal of pleasure. If it was not for my work I would have cut the bitch up there and then…

  Maybrick was a man given to explosion under stress and if this was the first time he had actually hit Florie it was not to be the last.

  Michael was by now also concerned about his dissolute brother’s health and, according to the Diary, wrote several letters during October enquiring, in particular, about Maybrick’s ‘sleepwalking’ problems.

  October was not a good month for Maybrick. He was not deriving from his drugs the strength they usually gave him and which he needed to commit murder. He had temporarily lost control. There were no murders that month and so there was no reason to write in his Diary. He put aside his pen for three or four weeks. At the end of the month he writes again.

  It has been far too long since my last. I have been unwell.

  The age of 50 is for many people a watershed. For a man like James Maybrick, the reality of his declining health and sexual prowess must have been a nightmare. On October 24th James Maybrick reached that watershed. He was 50. His morale was crumbling. During the second week in November he went to London and stayed at Michael’s home in Regent’s Park. He had planned to go over to Whitechapel but something went very wrong. Despite all efforts Maybrick’s ordeal must have been heard all over the apartment that night.