Jack The Ripper - The Definitive History Part 10

26. These taxes were a tax on advertis.e.m.e.nts, abolished in 1853, a newspaper tax, abolished in 1855 and a duty on paper, abolished in 1861. They were collectively called, and condemned by radicals as, a 'tax of knowledge'. The abolition made newspapers more affordable, which meant they could target a new market of the middle and lower middle cla.s.ses.

27. Foster, R.F. (1981) Lord Randolph Churchill, A Political Life. Oxford: Clarendon Press, p.76.

28. James, Robert Rhodes (1959) Lord Randolph Churchill. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, p.296.

29. Chilston, Viscount (1965) W.H. Smith. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, p.212.

30. His Cabinet of 188085 leaked. Gladstone himself had used his influence with John Morley, W.T. Stead's predecessor at the Pall Mall Gazette.

31. Holland, Bernard (1911) The Life of Spencer Compton: Eighth Duke of Devons.h.i.+re, London: Longmans, Green and Co., vol. II, pp.99100.

32. Most remarkable was the growth of London suburban newspapers, which grew from one in 1846 to 104 in 1880.

33. Contemporary Review, November 1886, quoted in Ford, Colin and Harrison, Brian (1983) A Hundred Years Ago: Britain in the 1880s in Words and Photographs. Harmondsworth, Middles.e.x: Penguin Books.

34. Ensor, Sir Robert (1936) England 18701914. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp.1445.

35. Ibid., p.310.

36. Ibid., p.310.

37. Arnold, Matthew (1887) 'Up To Easter', Nineteenth Century, May, pp.6389.

38. Ensor, Sir Robert, op. cit., p.145.

39. Curtis Jnr, L. Perry (2001) Jack the Ripper and the London Press. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, p.61.

40. Ensor, Sir Robert, op. cit., p.310.

41. Described delightfully by George Bernard Shaw as 'neither first rate, nor second rate, nor tenth rate. He is just his horrible unique self'; and rather more deliciously by Oscar Wilde, who rightfully said, 'He has no feelings. It is the secret of his success'.

42. Harris, Frank (1969) My Life and Loves. London: W.H. Allen. Quoted in Brome, Vincent (1959) Frank Harris. London: Ca.s.sell, p.66.

43. Lynd, Helen Merrell (1945) England in the Eighteen-Eighties. Toward A Social Basis For Freedom. Oxford: Oxford University Press, p.225.

44. Curtis Jnr, L. Perry, op. cit., p.61.

45. Fyfe, Hamilton (1930) Northcliffe: An Intimate Biography. London: George Allen and Unwin, p.106.

46. Taylor, S.J. (1996) The Great Outsiders: Northcliffe, Rothermere and the Daily Mail. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, p.16.

47. George Bernard Shaw quoted in Pope, Wilson (1938) The Story of The Star 18881938. London: The Star Publications Department, p.36.

48. O'Connor, T.P. (1929) Memoirs of an Old Parliamentarian. London: Ernest Benn, vol. II, pp.2557.

49. Ma.s.singham, H.W. (1892) The London Daily Press. London: Religious Tract Society, p.182.

50. Richardson, J. Hall (1927) From The City To Fleet Street. London: Stanley Paul & Co. Ltd, p.216.

51. 'Hands was a genius . . . He could write agreeably and wittily about anything if he felt so disposed. If he did not feel like it, no editor in Fleet Street could make him write, but he had a charming and disarming way with him which saved him from the usual fate of the unreliable'. He worked for The Star, moved to the Pall Mall Gazette and finally to the Daily Mail. Blind in his later years, he died in 1919, hailed by The Times in an obituary as 'the Laughing Cavalier of the new journalism . . .'. Pope, Wilson, op. cit., pp.378.

52. Lincoln Springfield, 'a curly-haired youth who came from Brighton . . . He was probably the best and keenest man of his day at the news story . . .'. Pope, Wilson, op. cit., pp.378. See also Springfield, Lincoln (1924) Some Piquant People. London: T. Fisher Unwin.

53. Le Queux, William (1923) Things I Know About Kings, Celebrities and Crooks. London: Eveleigh Nash and Grayson, p.165.

54. Clarkson, Charles Tempest and Richardson, J. Hall (1889) Police! London: Field and Tuer, pp.2789.

55. Richardson, J. Hall, op. cit., p.222.

56. Curtis Jnr, L. Perry, op. cit., p.117.

57. Saunders was elected Liberal member for East Hull in 1885, but was defeated in the general election of 1886, in which year his interest in London politics took on a radical character as he joined with those groups campaigning to keep Trafalgar Square open for public meetings. He was elected to the first London County Council as the representative for Walworth in 1889 and wrote A History of the First London County Council in 1892. He entered Parliament as a Liberal for the same const.i.tuency in 1892, but by this time he was espousing socialist opinions that alienated many of his fellows.

58. Scott, George (1968) Reporter Anonymous: The Story of the Press a.s.sociation. London: Hutchinson, pp.11418.

59. Moncrieff, Chris (2001) Living on a Deadline: A History of the Press a.s.sociation. London: Virgin, pp.538.

60. MEPO 1/48 quoted in Evans, Steward P. and Skinner, Keith (2001) Jack the Ripper: Letters From h.e.l.l. Stroud, Gloucesters.h.i.+re: Sutton, p.43.

61. Clarkson, Charles Tempest and Richardson, J. Hall, op. cit., p.278.

62. Anderson, Sir Robert, op. cit.

63. The Times, 12 September 1888.

64. Hopkins, R. Thurston (1935) Life and Death at the Old Bailey. London: Herbert Jenkins, pp.2023.

65. Macnaghten, Sir Melville, op. cit., p.58.

66. Letter from ex-Chief Inspector John Littlechild to journalist George R. Sims, 23 September 1913. In the private collection of Ripper expert Stewart P. Evans.

67. Smith, Lieut.-Col. Sir Henry (1910) From Constable to Commissioner: The Story of Sixty Years, Most of Them Misspent. London: Chatto and Windus.

68. Smith, Lieut.-Col. Sir Henry, op. cit., pp.1545. George H. Edwards, Secretary of the Metropolitan Police 192527, presented his personal copy of Lieut.-Col. Smith's autobiography to the Scotland Yard Library on his death. It contains an interesting seven line comment on the page opposite the frontispiece, describing Smith as, 'A good raconteur and a good fellow, but not strictly veracious'. He went on to say that much of the book consisted of after dinner stories outside his personal experience and in his account of matters within his own knowledge 'he is often far from accurate'.

69. Report by Chief Inspector Swanson to the Home Office dated 6 November 1888. HO/221/A49301C/8c.

70. For a comprehensive account of all the Ripper correspondence see Evans, Stewart P. and Skinner, Keith, op. cit.

Chapter Thirteen.

Mary Jane Kelly.

The number of murders committed by Jack the Ripper is disputed. Sir Robert Anderson1 and Sir Melville Macnaghten2 state five, the series ending with Mary Jane Kelly.

Very little is known about Mary Kelly's life and hardly any of it has been substantiated. We are told that she was about 25 years old, 5ft 7in, stout, blonde haired3 and blue eyed, with a fair complexion. Sir Melville Macnaghten reported that she was 'said to have been possessed of considerable personal attractions'.4 Walter Dew, who was a young constable attached to Whitechapel at the time, wrote, 'I knew Marie quite well by sight. Often I had seen her parading along Commercial Street, between Flower and Dean Street and Aldgate, or along Whitechapel Road. She was usually in the company of two or three of her kind, fairly neatly dressed and invariably wearing a clean white ap.r.o.n, but no hat . . . a pretty, buxom girl'.5 The story she told about herself was a tragic one. She said she had been born in Limerick, Ireland, though it isn't known whether she meant Limerick the town or County Limerick, but had moved with her family to Wales. Her boyfriend, Joseph Barnett, to whom she told this story wasn't sure whether it was Carnarvons.h.i.+re or Carmarthens.h.i.+re, but it was probably the latter because when a young girl she apparently met and married a collier named Davies and the coal mines were in South Wales. Within a short time her husband was killed in a mining accident. Left without any means of support, Kelly joined a cousin in Cardiff who introduced her to prost.i.tution and according to Joseph Barnett she 'was in an infirmary there for eight or nine months'. From Cardiff she went to London, where, again according to Joseph Barnett, she had worked in a high-cla.s.s bordello in the West End. He said that she claimed to have accompanied a gentleman to Paris, but had not liked it there and had returned after about two weeks. Certainly she affected the name 'Marie', by which Walter Dew referred to her. Some independent support was unearthed for this part of her story: On 10 November a Mrs. Elizabeth Phoenix called at Leman Street Police Station and according to the Press a.s.sociation 'made a statement as to the ident.i.ty of the murdered woman': She states that about three years ago a woman, apparently deceased, judging from the published description, resided in Mrs. Phoenix's brother-in-law's house at Breezer's Hill, Pennington Street, near London Docks.

The Press a.s.sociation reporter made enquiries in the area of Breezer's Hill6 and wrote: It would appear that on her arrival in London she made the acquaintance of a French woman residing in the neighbourhood of Knightsbridge, who, she informed her friends, led her to pursue the degraded life which had now culminated in her untimely end. She made no secret of the fact that while she was with this woman she drove about in a carriage and made several journeys to the French capital, and, in fact, led a life which is described as that 'of a lady'. By some means, however, at present not exactly clear, she suddenly drifted into the East End. Here fortune failed her and a career which stands out in bold and sad contrast to her earlier experience was commenced. Her experience of the East End appears to have begun with a woman who resided in one of the thoroughfares off Ratcliffe Highway, now known as St. George's Street. This person seems to have received Kelly direct from the West End home, for she had not been there very long when, it is stated, both women went to the French 'lady's' residence and demanded the box which contained numerous dresses of a costly description.

Kelly at last indulged in intoxicants, it is stated, to an extent which made her unwelcome. From St. George's Street she went to lodge with a Mrs. Carthy at Breezer's Hill (off Pennington Street). This place she left about 18 months or two years ago and from that time seems to have left Ratcliffe altogether.

According to Mrs. Carthy, Kelly left her house when she 'went to live with a man who was apparently in the building trade and who Mrs. Carthy believed would have married Kelly'.7 This story seems to have confirmation from Joseph Barnett who at the inquest said that after she left Cardiff she 'was in a gay house in the West-end, but in what part she did not say. A gentleman came there to her and asked her if she would like to go to France'. Kelly went with him, 'but she did not remain long. She said she did not like the part, but whether it was the part or purpose I cannot say. She was not there more than a fortnight, and she returned to England, and went to Ratcliffe-highway'. And the crucial comment was that 'she described a man named Joseph Fleming, who came to Penningtonstreet, a bad house, where she stayed. I don't know when this was. She was very fond of him. He was a mason's plasterer, and lodged in the Bethnal-green-road'.8 As we have seen, Kelly's story is far from impossible, the crosschannel trade in women being quite well established, albeit not the huge trade suggested by the Pall Mall Gazette in its 'Maiden Tribute To Modern Babylon' articles. Girls destined for the brothels of Belgium and France had to make a formal declaration that they wished to enter a brothel and knew what would be expected of them, and they had to undergo a medical check. They may, however, have been seriously misled about how much money they would earn or the conditions in which they would live, apparently encouraged to believe that they would be living a luxurious lifestyle by being treated lavishly when in London. The procurer would have made a substantial investment by the time the woman reached France and would have been very displeased with any woman who did not go ahead with the arrangement. What we know happened certainly corresponds with Kelly's stories about fine dresses and being driven about in a coach, and Kelly would certainly have made some serious enemies if she had refused to stay in France.

From Mrs. Carthy's house she went to live with Joseph Fleming and lived somewhere in Bethnal Green. Even when she lived with Barnett, Fleming used to visit Kelly and Barnett said Kelly seemed very fond of him. A neighbour of Kelly's named Julia Venturney confirmed this, saying that Kelly was fond of a man other than Barnett whose name was also Joe. He was, she thought, a costermonger and sometimes visited and gave money to Kelly.9 After Fleming she appears, according to Barnett, to have lived with a man named Morganstone or Morgan Stone opposite, or in the vicinity of, Stepney gasworks.

By 1886 Mary Jane Kelly was living at Cooley's lodging house in Thrawl Street, one of the streets in the dreaded Flower and Dean Street rookery, and it was while living there that she met Billingsgate Market fish porter and sometime fruit hawker Joseph Barnett in Commercial Street on Good Friday, 8 April 1887. The following day they met again and decided to live together. They lodged in various locations, finally moving to a single room, 13 Miller's Court. This was in fact the back room of 26 Dorset Street.

A 3 feet wide arched pa.s.sage separated 26 and 27 Dorset Street and led to what in distant times would have been the rear yards of 26 and 27. Six houses had been built there, three on either side of the courtyard. The back room of 26 Dorset Street had been converted into a self-contained room, a false part.i.tion having been erected to cut it off from the rest of the house, and it was entered by a door at the end of the arched pa.s.sage. The house was owned by John McCarthy, who ran a business from 27 Dorset Street.

As we saw in Chapter One, back in the mid-1600s the area had been 'a field of gra.s.s with cows feeding on it' and criss-crossed by several footpaths. When the owners wanted to close the footpaths they were obliged to build a road 40 feet long and 24 feet wide. That road was called Datchet Street, corrupted in due course to Dorset Street. By the time Mary Kelly moved there it was one of the most notorious and reputedly one of the most dangerous streets in the East End.10 Years later a minor villain named Arthur Harding recalled Dorset Street and John McCarthy: Dorset Street had an even worse reputation than Flowery Dean Street. That's where Jack the Ripper done some of his murders. We just used to call it 'the street'. There was such a large number of doss-houses there that they called it 'Dossers' Street' and they abbreviated it again just to 'the street' which is what we called it. There were doss-houses on one side, furnished rooms on the other. McCarthy owned all the furnished rooms down there. He was an Irishman, a bully, a tough guy.

Marie Lloyd used to see him, because there was a pub round the corner she used to go to. All his daughters were in show business on account of Marie Lloyd. They had plenty of money. McCarthy lived down there . . .11 'Bully' could mean pimp and a 'bully boss' was the t.i.tle of a landlord of a brothel or thieves' den. Inspector Reid told Charles Booth that the prost.i.tutes of Pennington Street were not controlled by pimps: 'there are no bullies who live off the earnings of the women', and it is interesting in light of Arthur Harding's comment to note that several of the women living in Miller's Court were prost.i.tutes. Harding's statement that McCarthy was a friend of the revered music hall entertainer Marie Lloyd is also true. His family entered s...o...b..siness and McCarthy's son and daughter-in-law were major music hall performers. He was also the great-great grandfather of the actress Kay Kendall, possibly best known for her role in the movie Genevieve and as wife of Hollywood star Rex Harrison.12 Kelly's room was small and spa.r.s.ely furnished. It was about 12 feet square, there was a fireplace opposite the door, two windows to the left of the door and to the right a bedside table so close that the door would bang against it when swung open. Kelly's bed was between the bedside table and the false part.i.tion. A journalist who visited the room with the inquest jurors noted in addition to the bed and bedside table 'a farthing dip in a bottle . . . The only attempt at decoration were a couple of engravings, one "The Fisherman's Widow", stuck over the mantelpiece, while in the corner was an open cupboard containing a few bits of pottery, some ginger-beer bottles, and a bit of bread on a plate'.13 Some sources mention another table and a chair. Kelly paid a weekly rent of 4s 6d and at the time of her death she was substantially in arrears, a debt that it is surprising McCarthy had allowed to acc.u.mulate.14 In late August or early September Joseph Barnett lost his job and Kelly returned to prost.i.tution. Barnett did not like this and decided to leave her,15 although he explained to various journalists and told the inquest the problem was that he objected when Kelly allowed prost.i.tutes to stay in the room. 'She would never have gone wrong again', he told a reporter, 'and I shouldn't have left her if it had not been for the prost.i.tutes stopping at the house. She only let them because she was good hearted and did not like to refuse them shelter on cold bitter nights'.16 Barnett seems to have tried to publicly portray Kelly in a better light, generously offering her room to fellow prost.i.tutes rather than bringing her own customers back to their room. The possibility that other prost.i.tutes used Kelly's room has sp.a.w.ned several avenues of interesting conjecture over the years because Kelly was mutilated beyond recognition and this has allowed speculation that the victim in room 13 was not Mary Jane Kelly but a prost.i.tute whom she allowed to stay the night in her room. Some support for this notion exists in the claim by several people to have seen Kelly alive several hours after the medical experts were of the opinion that she was dead (see below). Whatever the real reason, there was a fight and Barnett left Kelly between 5pm and 6pm on 30 October, going to Buller's boarding house in Bishopsgate and later moving in with his sister, who lived off Gray's Inn Road.

On Wednesday 7 November 1888, Kelly bought a halfpenny candle from John McCarthy's shopthe 'dip' seen by the journalist who toured Kelly's room and was later seen in Miller's Court by Thomas Bowyer, a pensioned soldier nicknamed 'Indian Harry' employed by McCarthy: Harry Bowyer [sic] states that on Wednesday night he saw a man speaking to Kelly who resembled the description given by the fruiterer of the supposed Berner Street murderer. He was, perhaps, 27 or 28 and had a dark moustache and very peculiar eyes. His appearance was rather smart and attention was drawn to him by showing very white cuffs and a rather long white collar, the ends of which came down in front over a black coat. He did not carry a bag.17 Given the notoriety of Dorset Street as a dangerous area and the fact that Miller's Court was a cul-de-sac accessed through a narrow pa.s.sage into which n.o.body would likely have strayed by accident, the presence there of a 'rather smart' man warrants comment, especially as he resembled someone perhaps seen in the vicinity of the Berner Street murder.

The next day, Thursday 8 November, Mary Kelly went to the Ten Bells, where she met a friend called Elizabeth Foster, who said she had known Kelly for 18 months and found her to be 'as nice a woman as one could find'. Kelly left about 7.05pm and apparently returned to Miller's Court. She was joined in her room by a young woman named Lizzie Albrook. Between 7.30pm and 7.45pm Joseph Barnett called, as he had been in the habit of doing most days since they split up. Albrook left when Barnett arrived, but Barnett did not stay long and Mary Kelly's movements from this time onwards are uncertain.

Mary Kelly 'went out drinking in the local public-houses', said Walter Dew. 'This was unusual, for normally Marie was a sober girl'.18 About 11.00pm John McCarthy (who may have been reporting what he had been told rather than what he had seen) said, 'she was seen in the Britannia public house [on the corner of Dorset Street and Commercial Street] . . . with a young man with a dark moustache. She was then intoxicated. The young man appeared to be very respectable and well dressed'.19 At 11.45pm Mary Ann c.o.x, who lived at 5 Miller's Court and was a prost.i.tute, entered Dorset Street from Commercial Street. Kelly, who was drunk, was walking just ahead of her with a stout man, shabbily dressed in a long overcoat and wearing a round billyc.o.c.k hat, aged about 35 or 36, with a blotchy face and sporting a full carroty moustache. He was carrying a pail of beer. The couple turned into the pa.s.sage leading into Miller's Court and were standing outside the door to Kelly's room when Mrs. c.o.x pa.s.sed.

'Goodnight', said Mrs. c.o.x.

'Goodnight', Kelly replied, 'I am going to sing'.

A minute or two later Kelly began singing, 'Only a Violet I Plucked from my Mother's Grave'. At midnight Mary Ann c.o.x returned to the streets. Kelly was still singing the same song.20 Catherine Picket, a neighbour, was becoming fed up with Kelly's singing but her husband stopped her from going across to Kelly's room to complain. At 1.00am it was starting to rain. Mary Ann c.o.x returned to her room for a few minutes' warmth by her fire. Kelly was still singing. John McCarthy confirmed this: 'the last thing he had heard of her was at one o'clock Friday morning, when she was singing in her room, and appeared to be very happy'.21 Elizabeth Prater, a prost.i.tute who lived in the room above Kelly, returned home about 1.00am and she stood at the entrance to Miller's Court for about half an hour, except for ten minutes when she went into McCarthy's shop and chatted. She saw n.o.body enter or leave the court. Curiously, she didn't hear any singing. Prater then went to her room, put two chairs in front of her door and without undressing lay on her bed and fell into a deep, drink-induced sleep.

At 2.00am George Hutchinson was walking along Commercial Street. Near the corner of Flower and Dean Street he met Mary Kelly, who asked him to lend her sixpence. Hutchinson said he had been to Romford and was spent out. 'I must go and look for some money', said Kelly, and walked towards Thrawl Street where there was a man standing. The man put his hand on Kelly's shoulder and must have said something because Kelly and the man laughed. Hutchinson heard Kelly say, 'All right' and the man say, 'You will be all right for what I have told you'. He then put his arm around Kelly's shoulders and they began to walk back towards Dorset Street. Hutchinson had now stopped beneath the lamp outside the Queen's Head, where a month earlier Elizabeth Stride had enjoyed a drink before setting off for her Sat.u.r.day night out, and saw the man distinctly as he and Kelly pa.s.sed him. He had a soft felt hat drawn down over his eyes, had a dark complexion a Jewish appearance and a heavy moustache turned up at the ends, dark eyes and bushy eyebrows. He was wearing a long dark coat trimmed with astrakhan and a white collar with a black necktie, in which was fixed a horseshoe pin. He wore dark spats and light b.u.t.ton-over boots. A ma.s.sive gold chain was displayed in his waistcoat. His watch chain had a large seal with a red stone hanging from it. He carried a pair of kid gloves in his right hand and in his left there was a small package. He was about 5ft 6in, tall, aged about 35 or 36.

It was a dramatic style of dress for Spitalfields, not to say a stupid one a gold watch and chain on display in an area distinguished as one of the roughest in East London! and one must inevitably question the accuracy of such a detailed description. However, according to Hutchinson, Kelly and the man crossed Commercial Street, turned into Dorset Street and for about three minutes stood talking outside the pa.s.sage leading to Miller's Court. Hutchinson heard Kelly say, 'All right, my dear. Come along. You will be comfortable', to which the man put his arm around Kelly and kissed her. Kelly said, 'I've lost my handkerchief!', which seems about the most incongruous remark possible in the circ.u.mstances, but the man pulled a red handkerchief out of his pocket and gave it to her. The couple then went down Miller's Court. As the Christ Church clock struck 3.00am, Hutchinson wandered off.22 A young woman named Sarah Lewis told the inquest into Kelly's death that she had pa.s.sed Christ Church as the clock struck 2.30am, turned into Dorset Street and entered Miller's Court.

When I went into the court, opposite the lodging-house I saw a man with a wideawake. There was no one talking to him. He was a stout-looking man, and not very tall. The hat was black. I did not take any notice of his clothes. The man was looking up the court; he seemed to be waiting or looking for some one. Further on there was a man and woman the latter being in drink.23 This man was probably George Hutchinson. It is curious, however, that Hutchinson never mentioned seeing Sarah Lewis or the man and drunken woman further down the street.24 George Hutchinson's testimony is hugely important as it is likely that he saw Kelly with her murderer. He has provided an excellent description of Jack the Ripper that shows him to have been the 'toff' of popular lore, rather than one of the poverty-stricken inhabitants of the East End or a poor immigrant Jew. On the other hand, it is tempting to dismiss George Hutchinson's testimony because his detailed description seems too good to be true, because he didn't see Sarah Lewis and the other people in the street and because he didn't give his story to the police until after the inquest had been concluded, which suggests that he may have been a publicity-seeker spinning a yarn safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't be contradicted by an army of witnesses attending the inquest proceedings. This said, Inspector Abberline, who said Hutchinson claimed to have known Kelly for three years and to have occasionally given her a few s.h.i.+llings, thought that Hutchinson had made 'an important statement' and gave it as his opinion that 'the statement is true'.25 By 3.00am it was raining hard and Hutchinson cannot have been gone long when Mrs. c.o.x returned to her room. Kelly's room was dark and quiet. Mrs. c.o.x went to bed and tried to get some sleep.

Between 3.30am and 4.00am Elizabeth Prater, in the room above Kelly's, was woken by her pet kitten Diddles walking across her neck. 'I heard a cry of "Oh! Murder!" as the cat came on me and I pushed her down, the voice was a faint voice the noise seemed to come from close by it is nothing uncommon to hear cries of murder, so I took no notice. I did not hear it a second time. I heard nothing else whatever'. Sarah Lewis also heard the cry, which to her was a loud shout: 'The sound seemed to come from the direction of the deceased's room; there was only one scream I took no notice of it'.

Having grabbed a few hours' sleep, Elizabeth Prater was awake by 5.00am and went to the Ten Bells for a gla.s.s of rum. She saw two or three men harnessing some horses in Dorset Street, but nothing aroused her suspicions. At 5.45am Mrs. c.o.x thought she heard a man's footsteps leaving Miller's Court. Catherine Picket, the flower seller, woke up at 7.30am and by 8.00am was on her way to market to buy some flowers. The morning was chilly and as it was also raining she thought she would borrow Kelly's shawl. There was no reply when she knocked on Kelly's door and she went off to her day's work. About the same time, 8.00am, a tailor named Maurice Lewis said he saw Kelly leave her room, then return to it a few moments later.26 Perhaps the most extraordinary and persistent testimony was that of Mrs. Caroline Maxwell. Caroline Maxwell, who lived at 14 Dorset Street and was the wife of a lodging house deputy, Henry Maxwell, said she had known Kelly for about four months, but had only spoken to her twice. She nevertheless knew her name, and Kelly knew hers.27 She knew Kelly was a prost.i.tute and although she had seen her 'in drink', she was not a notorious character. She kept herself to herself, and did not mix up with anybody. On Friday morning she came out of the lodging house and saw Kelly standing at the corner of the entry to Miller's Court. The time was between 8.00am and 8.30am, which she was able to fix because her husband had finished work, as he did about that time. It was unusual to see Kelly up so early. Mrs. Maxwell spoke across the street, 'What, Mary, brings you up so early?'

Kelly replied, 'Oh, Carrie, I do feel so bad. I've had a gla.s.s of beer, and I've brought it up again'. It was in the road. Mrs. Maxwell, who thought Kelly had been to the Britannia beer shop at the corner of the street, said, 'I can pity your feelings' and hurried off to Bishopsgate street to get her husband's breakfast. About 8.45am she returned to Dorset Street and saw Kelly outside the Britannia, talking to a man. They were some distance away Abberline estimated 25 yards and although she was positive the woman was Kelly, the couple were too far away for her to give a description of the man, except that he was stout and dressed in dark clothes. The woman was wearing a dark skirt, a velvet body, a maroon shawl and no hat.

Mrs. Maxwell's story was completely contrary to the evidence of the doctors regarding time of death, but she was emphatic about the time, the day and the conversation, even in the imposing surroundings of the inquest when reminded by the Coroner, 'You must be very careful about your evidence, because it is different to other people's'. And The Times on 12 November reported corroboration of Mrs. Maxwell's story: When asked by the police how she could fix the time of the morning, Mrs. Maxwell replied, 'Because I went to the milkshop for some milk, and I had not before been there for a long time, and that she was wearing a woollen cross-over that I had not seen her wear for a considerable time'. On inquiries being made at the milkshop indicated by the woman her statement was found to be correct, and the cross-over was also found in Kelly's room.28 Walter Dew wrote of Mrs. Maxwell, 'She seemed a sane and sensible woman, and her reputation was excellent', and he added, 'In one way at least her version fitted into the facts as known. We know that Marie had been drinking the previous night, and, as this was not a habit of hers, illness the next morning was just what might have been expected'.29 On the face of it, Mrs. Maxwell was a woman of 'excellent' reputation who stuck to her story and whose story about the day was corroborated by the milk shop. In addition, it was, as Walter Dew pointed out, consistent with what emerged about Mary Kelly's movements the night before, and was also consistent with Kelly being unwell if, as Dew believed, she was not given to drinking to excess. But it is also a story impossible to accept. If Kelly was the murdered and mutilated woman in 13 Miller's Court, then Caroline Maxwell did not see her that Friday morning and must have been recalling another day. The testimony of the milk shop does not support this idea, if The Times report that she had not visited the shop recently is to be believed, and whilst there is no corroboration from the Britannia or any local pub that Kelly was served or seen that morning, this a.s.sumes that somebody, journalist or policeman, sought corroboration; and that Kelly would have been remembered amid what may have been a brisk early morning trade with market staff finis.h.i.+ng the night s.h.i.+ft.30 At 10.45am John McCarthy called for his a.s.sistant, Thomas 'Indian Harry' Bowyer, and told him to go to 13 and try to get some rent from Kelly. Bowyer went to Kelly's room and knocked at the door, but did not get a reply. He tried the door, but it was locked. He knocked again. He looked through the keyhole. Sometime earlier a pane of gla.s.s in the window nearest the door had been smashed and left unrepaired, largely, it would seem, because Kelly and Barnett had some time earlier lost the key to the room 'and since it has been lost they have put their hands through the broken window, and moved back the catch. It is quite easy'.31 Going to the window, Bowyer reached through the broken pane of gla.s.s and plucked back the muslin curtain. The horribly butchered mess that lay before his horrified gaze was barely recognisable as a human being.

Bowyer rushed back to McCarthy, spluttered his discovery and McCarthy rushed to the broken window and looked into the room. 'The sight we saw I cannot drive away from my mind', he said later, 'It looked more like the work of a devil than of a man. I had heard a great deal about the Whitechapel murders, but I declare to G.o.d I had never expected to see such a sight as this. The whole scene is more than I can describe. I hope I may never see such a sight as this again'.32 Bowyer fetched Inspector Beck and Sergeant Betham from the Commercial Street Police Station. Beck took one look and sent for police a.s.sistance and the divisional surgeon, Dr. George Bagster Phillips. The time was now about 11.00am and the police managed to very effectively close off Miller's Court, stopping anyone outside the court from entering and anyone inside the court from leaving. A veil of silence fell over the inquiry.

Newspaper reporters had to gather snippets of information wherever they could. Most of the initial reports are wrong, sometimes wildly so, and misleading. The early press coverage is a minefield for the incautious. However, it was quickly realised that a murder had been committed and according to the Press a.s.sociation, 'Women rushed about the streets telling their neighbours the news and shouting their rage and indignation'.

Dr. George Bagster Phillips arrived at 11.15am and viewed the body through the window. At 11.30am Inspector Abberline arrived, received a general report from Inspector Beck and had a hurried conference with Dr. Phillips. A photographer took photographs of the murder scene. The weather was deteriorating, the leaden sky making it almost dark in Miller's Court, and there was an annoying drizzling rain. There were delays on account of it being thought that bloodhounds would be brought in, but they weren't and eventually McCarthy forced open the door with a pick-axe which suggests that Kelly must have found the lost key, otherwise the police would have reached through the window to open the door, in the fas.h.i.+on Abberline described. The door swung open and hit against the bedside table.

Mary Kelly had been mutilated to an extraordinary degree. The surviving black and white photograph of the body in situ conveys the horrific and horrible sight that greeted the eyes of the policeman and other witnesses of whose consequent traumas we hear nothing. Walter Dew, who records that he was 'the first police officer on the scene', says that the scene he witnessed through the broken window 'was too harrowing to be described. It remains with me and always will remain with me as the most gruesome memory of the whole of my police career'.33 The scalpel-cold post-mortem report by Dr. Thomas Bond is clinical and precise: The body was lying naked34 in the middle of the bed, the shoulders flat, but the axis of the body inclined to the left side of the bed. The head was turned on the left cheek. The left arm was close to the body with the forearm flexed at a right angle & lying across the abdomen. the right arm was slightly abducted from the body & rested on the mattress, the elbow bent & the forearm supine with the fingers clenched. The legs were wide apart, the left thigh at right angles to the trunk & the right forming an obtuse angle with the p.u.b.es.

The whole of the surface of the abdomen & thighs was removed & the abdominal Cavity emptied of its viscera. The b.r.e.a.s.t.s were cut off, the arms mutilated by several jagged wounds & the face hacked beyond recognition of the features. The tissues of the neck were severed all round down to the bone.

The viscera were found in various parts viz: the uterus & Kidneys with one breast under the head, the other breast by the Rt foot, the Liver between the feet, the intestines by the right side & the spleen by the left side of the body. The flaps removed from the abdomen and thighs were on a table.

The bed clothing at the right corner was saturated with blood, & on the floor beneath was a pool of blood covering about 2 feet square. The wall by the right side of the bed & in a line with the neck was marked by blood which had struck it in a number of separate splashes.

Postmortem examination The face was gashed in all directions the nose, cheeks, eyebrows and ears being partly removed. The lips were blanched & cut by several incisions running obliquely down to the chin. There were also numerous cuts extending irregularly across all the features.

The neck was cut through the skin & other tissues right down to the vertebrae the 5th & 6th being deeply notched. The skin cuts in the front of the neck showed distinct ecchymosis.

The air pa.s.sage was cut at the lower part of the larynx through the cricoid cartilage.

Both b.r.e.a.s.t.s were removed by more or less circular incisions, the muscles down to the ribs being attached to the b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The intercostals between the 4th, 5th & 6th ribs were cut through & the contents of the thorax visible through the openings.

The skin & tissues of the abdomen from the costal arch to the p.u.b.es were removed in three large flaps. The right thigh was denuded in front to the bone, the flap of skin, including the external organs of generation & part of the right b.u.t.tock. The left thigh was stripped of skin, fascia & muscles as far as the knee.

The left calf showed a long gash through skin & tissues to the deep muscles & reaching from the knee to 5 ins above the ankle.

Both arms & forearms had extensive & jagged wounds.

The right thumb showed a small superficial incision about 1 in long, with extravasation of blood in the skin & there were several abrasions on the back of the hand moreover showing the same condition.

On opening the thorax it was found that the right lung was minimally adherent by old firm adhesions. The lower part of the lung was broken & torn away.

The left lung was intact: it was adherent at the apex & there were a few adhesions over the side. In the substances of the lung were several nodules of consolidation.

The Pericardium was open below & the Heart absent.

In the abdominal cavity was some partially digested food of fish & potatoes & similar food was found in the remains of the stomach attached to the intestines.

In another report Dr. Bond added: The body was laying on the bed at the time of my visit at two o'clock quite naked and mutilated . . . Rigor Mortis had set in but increased during the progress of the examination. From this it is difficult to say with any certainty the exact time that had elapsed since death as the period varies from six to twelve hours before rigidity sets in. The body was comparatively cold at two o'clock and the remains of a recently taken meal were found in the stomach and scattered about over the intestines. It was therefore pretty certain that the woman must have been dead about twelve hours and the partly digested food would indicate that death took place about three or four hours after food was taken, so one or two o'clock in the morning would be the probable time of the murder.

The corner of the sheet to the right of the woman's head was much cut and saturated with blood, indicating that the face may have been covered with the sheet at the time of the attack.

The police wrapped the Kelly murder as tight as a snare drum and the press had little or no reliable information. The carnage in the room was bad enough, but became exaggerated. It was a gruesome enough scene, 'blood was everywhere and pieces of flesh were scattered about the floor . . .'.35 Walter Dew recalled, 'I had slipped and fallen on the awfulness of that floor'.36 There was considerable interest in and speculation about any missing body parts.

Central News reported: It is stated, upon authority which should be trustworthy, that the uturus, as in the case of the Mitre Square victim, has been removed and taken away by the fiend, but on this important point the police officers and surgeons refuse in the most emphatic manner to give the slightest information. It is almost self-evident, however, that had this particular organ not been removed the police would gladly have said so, if only to allay in some slight measure the panic which has again set in . . .37 Whereas on the same day The Times reported: No portion of the murdered woman's body was taken away . . . the post-mortem was of the most exhaustive character and the surgeons did not quit their work until every organ was accounted for and placed as closely as possible in its natural position.38 Speculation has continued to this day, it appearing that the murderer took away Mary Kelly's heart, which Dr. Bond says was 'absent'.

Dr. Bond also offered something of a psychological profile of the murderer, one of the first on record. A report submitted to the police and the Home Office on 10 November in part read: In each case [i.e. in all five murders from Nichols to Kelly] the mutilation was inflicted by a person who had no scientific or anatomical knowledge. In my opinion he does not even possess the technical knowledge of a butcher or horse slaughterer or any person accustomed to cut up dead animals.

The murderer in external appearance is quite likely to be a quiet inoffensive looking man probably middle-aged and neatly and respectably dressed.

a.s.suming the murderer to be such a person as I have just described, he would be solitary and eccentric in his habits, also he is most likely to be a man without regular occupation, but with some small income or pension. He is probably living among respectable persons who have some knowledge of his character and habits and who may have grounds for suspicion that he isn't quite right in his mind at times. Such persons would probably be unwilling to communicate suspicions to the Police for fear of trouble or notoriety, whereas if there were prospect of a reward it might overcome their scruples.