by Paul Roland
Another body found
At 1.35am three men, Joseph Lawende, Joseph Levy and Harry Harris, passed a couple taking shelter at the corner of Church Passage which led into the square. Lawende did not see the woman’s face as she had her back to him and could only describe her as being short. She was wearing a black bonnet and a jacket of the same colour. It is likely that it was Catherine Eddowes and that her companion was her murderer. She had her hand on his chest, indicative of intimacy, and they were conversing quietly. Lawende caught only a glimpse of the man who he later described as ‘rough and shabby’, aged about 30, approximately 165cm (5ft 7in) tall and of medium build with a fair complexion and a fair moustache. He was wearing a grey peaked cloth cap and a pepper and salt-coloured jacket with a reddish handkerchief tied around his neck. But it was such a fleeting glimpse that Lawende later admitted to the police that he would not be confident of recognizing the man if he ever came face to face with him. His friends could add nothing to the description, although Levy observed that the couple were rum-looking characters who made him uncomfortable and that he was glad not to be walking alone in that area at night. Ten minutes later PC Watkins had completed his circuit and returned to Mitre Square. In the south-western corner he came upon the body of Catherine Eddowes ‘ripped open, like a pig in the market’.
Her horrifying mutilations sickened even the seasoned City of London Police surgeon, Dr Brown, who was summoned to the scene at 2am.
‘The body was on its back,’ he noted. ‘The clothes [were] drawn up above the abdomen, the thighs were naked . . . the abdomen was exposed . . . great disfigurement of [the] face, the throat cut across . . .
‘The intestines were drawn out to a large extent and placed over the right shoulder – they were smeared over with some feculent matter, a piece [of] about two feet were quite detached from the body and placed between the body and the left arm, apparently by design. The lobe and auricle of the right ear was cut obliquely through . . . There were no traces of recent connection.’
When the body arrived at the mortuary a piece of her ear fell from the clothing in which it had been caught. During the post-mortem Dr Brown elaborated on the bizarre facial mutilations he had previously referred to.
‘There was a cut above a quarter of an inch through the lower left eyelid dividing the structures completely through. The upper eyelid on that side, there was a scratch through the skin on the left upper eyelid near to the angle of the nose. The right eyelid was cut through to half an inch. There was a deep cut over the bridge of the nose extending from the left border of the nasal bone down near to the angle of the jaw on the right side across the cheek, this cut went into the bone and divided all the structures of the cheek except the mucous membrane of the mouth. The tip of the nose was quite detached from the [rest of] the nose by an oblique cut from the bottom of the nasal bone to where the wings of the nose join on to the face . . . There was on each side of [the] cheek a cut which peeled up the skin forming a triangular flap about an inch and a half.’
Catherine Eddowes was murdered in Mitre Square, a gloomy quadrangle bounded by warehouses
The inquest
At the inquest on Thursday, 4 October, Dr Brown was asked to give details regarding the missing organs, and reported, ‘The uterus was cut away with the exception of a small portion, and the left kidney was also cut out. Both these organs were absent, and have not been found.’ The coroner then asked if he had any opinion as to what position the woman was in when the wounds were inflicted:
‘Dr Brown: In my opinion the woman must have been lying down. The way in which the kidney was cut out showed that it was done by somebody who knew what he was about.’
Coroner: Does the nature of the wounds lead you to any conclusion as to the instrument that was used?
Dr Brown: It must have been a sharp-pointed knife, and I should say at least 6 in. long.
Coroner: Would you consider that the person who inflicted the wounds possessed anatomical skill?
Dr Brown: He must have had a good deal of knowledge as to the position of the abdominal organs, and the way to remove them.
Coroner: Would the removal of the kidney, for example, require special knowledge?
Dr Brown: It would require a good deal of knowledge as to its position, because it is apt to be overlooked, being covered by a membrane.
Coroner: Would such a knowledge be likely to be possessed by some one accustomed to cutting up animals?
Dr Brown: Yes.
Coroner: Have you been able to form any opinion as to whether the perpetrator of this act was disturbed?
Dr Brown: I think he had sufficient time, but it was in all probability done in a hurry.
Coroner: How long would it take to make the wounds?
Dr Brown: It might be done in five minutes. It might take him longer; but that is the least time it could be done in.
Coroner: Have you any doubt in your own mind whether there was a struggle?
Dr Brown: I feel sure there was no struggle. I see no reason to doubt that it was the work of one man.
Coroner: Would you expect to find much blood on the person inflicting these wounds?
Dr Brown: No, I should not. I should say that the abdominal wounds were inflicted by a person kneeling at the right side of the body.’
Dr Brown was then asked if it was possible for the deceased to have been murdered elsewhere, and her body brought to where it was found:
‘Dr Brown: I do not think there is any foundation for such a theory. The blood on the left side was clotted, and must have fallen at the time the throat was cut. I do not think that the deceased moved the least bit after that.
Coroner: The body could not have been carried to where it was found?
Dr Brown: Oh, no.’
However, Dr Brown’s opinion was later contested by Dr G W Sequeira, who had been the first medical man on the scene that night, arriving at 1.55am, no more than 15 minutes after the murder had taken place. ‘I think that the murderer had no design on any particular organ of the body,’ he declared emphatically. ‘He was not possessed of any great anatomical skill.’
A sketch of Catherine Eddowes showing pre- and post-mortem injuries: a piece of her ear fell off in the mortuary
The Goulston Street graffiti
‘The Juwes are the men that will not be blamed for nothing.’ No one knows for certain if the writing found chalked on a wall in Goulston Street on the night of the double murder was a cryptic clue, or if it was merely a coincidence that a portion of Catherine Eddowes’ blood-spattered apron was found nearby. The bloodied piece of apron had been spotted at 2.55am by PC Alfred Long who, knowing of the murder in nearby Mitre Square, immediately realized its significance. While searching the immediate vicinity for other possible evidence he noticed the writing and made a note of it. The apron was lying in the passage of what was known as a model dwelling house near to the staircase leading up to Nos. 106 to 119. Long was certain it had not been there when he had passed that way on his previous round at 2.20am.
Detective Daniel Halse of the City Police elaborated on the find at the Catherine Eddowes inquest:
‘On Saturday, Sept. 29 [sic]. . . I proceeded to Goulston Street, where I saw some chalk-writing on the black fascia of the wall. Instructions were given to have the writing photographed, but before it could be done the Metropolitan police stated that they thought the writing might cause a riot or outbreak against the Jews, and it was decided to have it rubbed out, as the people were already bringing out their stalls into the street.
Coroner: Did the writing have the appearance of having been recently done?
Detective Halse: Yes. It was written with white chalk on a black fascia.
Foreman of the Jury: Why was the writing really rubbed out?
Detective Halse: The Metropolitan police said it might create a riot, and it was their ground.
Coroner: I am obliged to ask this question. Did you protest against the writing being rubbed out?
De
tective Halse: I did. I asked that it might, at all events, be allowed to remain until Major Smith [acting Commissioner] had seen it.
Coroner: Why do you say that it seemed to have been recently written?
Detective Halse: It looked fresh, and if it had been done long before it would have been rubbed out by the people passing. I did not notice whether there was any powdered chalk on the ground, though I did look about to see if a knife could be found. There were three lines of writing in a good schoolboy’s round hand. The size of the capital letters would be about 3/4 in, and the other letters were in proportion. The writing was on the black bricks, which formed a kind of dado, the bricks above being white.’
No clues in the chalk
Much has been made of the writing and the possible significance of the misspelling of the word Jews, which may or may not have been intentional. In Jack The Ripper: The Final Solution, author Stephen Knight spun a convoluted conspiracy theory concerning three mythical founders of the Freemasons known as the Juwes, which was subsequently revealed to have been inspired by an after-dinner story conceived in a moment of mischievous fun by the painter Walter Sickert and to have no basis in fact.
It seems fanciful in the extreme to presume that a serial killer would stalk the streets armed with a piece of chalk in the hope of finding a suitable surface on which to scrawl a provocative message – or that he would have paused to write anything that was not either a direct challenge to the police or in praise of his own audacity.
If he was inclined to bravado it is much more likely that he would have written something where the murder had been committed. And if he had written anything to taunt the police he would have dropped the bloodied chalk at the spot so that they would know that it was from the killer. Only an innocent would take the chalk away with them to use on another occasion.
Warren’s report to the Home Secretary, 6 November
Sir Charles Warren came under intense public criticism for having authorized the eradication of the Goulston Street graffiti and was forced to justify his action in a report to the Home Secretary.
Confidential
The Under Secretary of State
The Home Office
Sir,
In reply to your letter of the 5th instant, I enclose a report of the circumstances of the Mitre Square Murder so far as they have come under the notice of the Metropolitan Police, and I now give an account regarding the erasing of the writing on the wall in Goulston Street which I have already partially explained to Mr. Matthews verbally.
On the 30th September on hearing of the Berner Street murder, after visiting Commercial Street Station I arrived at Leman Street Station shortly before 5 A.M. and ascertained from the Superintendent Arnold all that was known there relative to the two murders.
The most pressing question at that moment was some writing on the wall in Goulston Street evidently written with the intention of inflaming the public mind against the Jews, and which Mr. Arnold with a view to prevent serious disorder proposed to obliterate, and had sent down an Inspector with a sponge for that purpose, telling him to await his arrival.
I considered it desirable that I should decide the matter myself, as it was one involving so great a responsibility whether any action was taken or not.
I accordingly went down to Goulston Street at once before going to the scene of the murder: it was just getting light, the public would be in the streets in a few minutes, in a neighbourhood very much crowded on Sunday mornings by Jewish vendors and Christian purchasers from all parts of London.
There were several Police around the spot when I arrived, both Metropolitan and City.
The writing was on the jamb of the open archway or doorway visible in the street and could not be covered up without danger of the covering being torn off at once.
A discussion took place whether the writing could be left covered up or otherwise or whether any portion of it could be left for an hour until it could be photographed; but after taking into consideration the excited state of the population in London generally at the time, the strong feeling which had been excited against the Jews, and the fact that in a short time there would be a large concourse of the people in the streets, and having before me the Report that if it was left there the house was likely to be wrecked (in which from my own observation I entirely concurred) I considered it desirable to obliterate the writing at once, having taken a copy of which I enclose a duplicate.
After having been to the scene of the murder, I went on to the City Police Office and informed the Chief Superintendent of the reason why the writing had been obliterated.
I may mention that so great was the feeling with regard to the Jews that on the 13th ulto. the Acting Chief Rabbi wrote to me on the subject of the spelling of the word “Jewes” on account of a newspaper asserting that this was Jewish spelling in the Yiddish dialect. He added “in the present state of excitement it is dangerous to the safety of the poor Jews in the East [End] to allow such an assertion to remain un-contradicted. My community keenly appreciates your humane and vigilant action during this critical time.”
It may be realised therefore if the safety of the Jews in Whitechapel could be considered to be jeopardised 13 days after the murder by the question of the spelling of the word Jews, what might have happened to the Jews in that quarter had that writing been left intact.
I do not hesitate myself to say that if that writing had been left there would have been an onslaught upon the Jews, property would have been wrecked, and lives would probably have been lost; and I was much gratified with the promptitude with which Superintendent Arnold was prepared to act in the matter if I had not been there.
I have no doubt myself whatever that one of the principal objects of the Reward offered by Mr. Montagu was to show to the world that the Jews were desirous of having the Hanbury Street Murder cleared up, and thus to divert from them the very strong feeling which was then growing up.
Your most obedient Servant,
(signed) C. Warren
Two copies of the graffiti were enclosed and read as follows:
The Jewes are
The men that
Will not be
Blamed
for nothing
On the Ripper’s trail
In his autobiography From Constable to Commissioner (1910), Acting Commissioner of the London Police Sir Henry Smith boasted that ‘There is no man living who knows as much of those [Whitechapel] murders as I do.’ Among his colleagues Sir Henry enjoyed a reputation as a raconteur who was not above embellishing the truth if it made for a more thrilling yarn. Nevertheless his account of the night of the double murder evokes the atmosphere and urgency of what it was like to have been on the trail of the Ripper.
‘In August, 1888, when I was desperately keen to lay my hands on the murderer, I made such arrangements as I thought would insure success. I put nearly a third of the force into plain clothes, with instructions to do everything which, under ordinary circumstances, a constable should not do. It was subversive of discipline; but I had them well supervised by senior officers. The weather was lovely, and I have little doubt they thoroughly enjoyed themselves, sitting on door-steps, smoking their pipes, hanging about public-houses, and gossiping with all and sundry.
In addition to this, I visited every butcher’s shop in the city, and every nook and corner which might, by any possibility, be the murderer’s place of concealment. Did he live close to the scene of action? Or did he, after committing a murder, make his way with lightning speed to some retreat in the suburbs? Did he carry something with him to wipe the blood from his hands, or did he find means of washing them? were questions I asked myself nearly every hour of the day. It seemed impossible he could be living in the very midst of us; and, seeing the Metropolitan Police had orders to stop every man walking or driving late at night or in the early morning, till he gave a satisfactory account of himself, more impossible still that he could gain Leytonstone, Highgate, Finchley, Fulham, or any suburban district withou
t being arrested. The murderer very soon showed his contempt for my elaborate arrangements. The excitement had toned down a little, and I was beginning to think he had either gone abroad or retired from business, when “Two more women murdered in the East!” raised the excitement again to concert pitch.
Jumping up, I was dressed and in the street in a couple of minutes. A hansom – to me a detestable vehicle – was at the door, and into it I jumped, as time was of the utmost consequence. This invention of the devil claims to be safe. It is neither safe nor pleasant . . . it did not take me long to discover that a 15-stone Superintendent inside with me, and three detectives hanging on behind, added neither to its comfort nor to its safety . . . we got to our destination – Mitre Square – without an upset, where I found a small group of my men standing round the mutilated remains of a woman.
It was in Berners Street, a narrow thoroughfare off the Commercial Road leading to the London, Tilbury, and Southend Railway, that Elizabeth Stride, the first of the two victims that night, met her fate. The street is entered by a large wooden gate, folding back in the middle, and almost always left open, and it is conjectured that the murderer took the woman in, closing the gate behind him. At 12.40 a.m., as far as could be made out from the evidence of the inmates, the street was vacant.
Within five minutes of that time a man who had been out late opened the gate. He was driving a pony-trap. The pony shied at something behind the gate, and looking down he saw the body of a woman, and instantly gave the alarm. The woman was seriously injured about the head, and must have been thrown down with great violence, and her throat was cut from ear to ear. Not a sound was heard by anyone. No doubt she was rendered insensible by the fall. The assassin must have slipped past the off-side of the pony, and – as there were civilians and some men of the H Division close at hand – escaped by a very hair’s-breadth, an experience sufficient, one would have thought, to shake his nerve for that night. But no, either because he was dissatisfied with his work, or furious at having been interrupted before he could finish it, he determined to show that he was still without a rival as a slaughterer, and, walking straight up to Houndsditch, he met Catherine Eddowes, and finished his second victim within the hour. The approaches to Mitre Square are three – by Mitre Street, Duke Street, and St. James’s Place. In the south-western corner, to which there is no approach, lay the woman. I was convinced then, and am convinced now, that had my orders been carried out in the spirit – they may have been to the letter – the reign of terror would have ceased that night . . .
