One interpretation would take the scribe at his word. It may seem strange that a Jewish killer should so publicly direct suspicion towards his co-religionists and, hence, to himself, but, as Dew himself conceded, ‘murderers do foolish things.’ It is by no means impossible that the chalk message was the defiant gesture of a deranged Jew, euphoric from bloody ‘triumphs’ in Dutfield’s Yard and Mitre Square. When the message became public property it was widely proclaimed that the spelling ‘Juwes’ or ‘Juewes’ unmistakably incriminated a Jew. ‘The language of the Jews in the East End,’ said the Pall Mall Gazette of 12 October, ‘is a hybrid dialect, known as Yiddish, and their mode of spelling the word Jews would be “Juwes”. This the police consider a strong indication that the crime was committed by one of the numerous foreigners by whom the East End is infested.’ Warren, in fact, did not believe that the killer was a Jew. But the newspaper stories prompted him to take the matter of the spelling up with Hermann Adler, the Acting Chief Rabbi. On 13 October Adler replied: ‘I was deeply pained by the statements that appeared in several papers today . . . that in the Yiddish dialect the word Jews is spelled “Juewes”. This is not a fact. The equivalent in the Judao-German (Yiddish) jargon is “Yidden”. I do not know of any dialect or language in which “Jews” is spelled “Juewes”.’ Such was Sir Charles’ fear of anti-semitic disturbances that, on the strength of Adler’s letter, he issued a statement to the press in which he explicitly refuted the claim that ‘Juwes’ was the Yiddish spelling of Jews.32
It was not the second but the third interpretation that was most favoured at Scotland Yard and Old Jewry. This read the chalk message as a deliberate subterfuge, designed to incriminate the Jews and throw the police off the track of the real murderer. Thus, in his report on the Eddowes murder Swanson noted the fact that the writing was on the wall of ‘a common stairs leading to a number of tenements occupied almost exclusively by Jews’ and asserted that its purport was ‘to throw blame upon the Jews’. Warren, in a minute of 13 October, declared that he could not understand the crimes ‘being done by a Socialist because the last murders were evidently done by someone desiring to bring discredit on the Jews & Socialists or Jewish Socialists’. Similarly, on 6 November, he told the Home Office that the message was ‘evidently written with the intention of inflaming the public mind against the Jews’. And however critical Major Smith might be of Sir Charles’ eradication of the clue he concurred in the Commissioner’s reading of it. Its probable intent, he wrote in his memoirs, was ‘to throw the police off the scent, to divert suspicion from the Gentiles and throw it upon the Jews’.33 The implication of this reasoning is obvious – the murderer himself was not a Jew.
Although it seems likely that the graffito was written by the murderer it yields little clue to his identity. Warren, writing to Lushington on 10 October, could not make much of it: ‘The idiom does not appear to me to be either English, French or German, but it might possibly be that of an Irishman speaking a foreign language. It seems to be the idiom of Spain or Italy.’ The spelling ‘Juwes’, however, may simply reflect local dialect. According to A. G. B. Atkinson’s study of the parish of St Botolph Aldgate, published a decade after the murders, Jewry Street was long known in the area as Poor Jewry or ‘Pouere Juwery’.34
Advocates of the Masonic conspiracy theory cite ‘Juwes’ as proof that the murderer was a Freemason. This assertion is based upon an erroneous belief, promulgated by Stephen Knight, Melvyn Fairclough and others, that ‘Juwes’ was a Masonic term by which Jubela, Jubelo and Jubelum were collectively known. In fact this was simply not the case. By 1888 the three murderers of Hiram Abiff had not been part of British Masonic ritual for more than seventy years, and although they had survived in American ritual in neither country had they ever been called, officially or colloquially, the ‘Juwes’. ‘It is a mystery,’ wrote Paul Begg, one of the most dependable modern students of the case, ‘why anyone ever thought that “Juwes” was a Masonic word.’35
Few of those who have pondered the events of 30 September have doubted that both murders were the work of the same killer. As we have noted in a previous chapter, some doubt about the relationship of the Stride killing to the rest of the series will always remain but there are at least two compelling arguments in favour of linking her death with that of Kate Eddowes. First, the technique by which the victims’ throats were cut was virtually identical. The throat of each victim was severed from left to right while she was lying on the ground. And in both cases the left carotid artery suffered far more damage than the right. The cut in Elizabeth’s throat partially severed the left carotid but left the vessels on the right side of the neck untouched. In Kate’s case the left carotid was completely severed and the right sustained only a ‘fine hole opening’. Second, a comparison of the description furnished by Lawende with those provided by Marshall, Smith and Schwartz of men seen with Liz Stride reveals several points of similarity. The likeness between Lawende’s man and Schwartz’s man is especially marked. Admittedly Lawende’s man was of medium build and appeared rather ‘rough and shabby’ whereas Schwartz’s was broad shouldered and respectably dressed. But both men looked about thirty. Both were of fair complexion and medium height. Both sported small moustaches. And both wore jackets and caps with peaks. It is perhaps needless to add that the most important difference between the Stride and Eddowes murders – the absence of abdominal and facial mutilations in the former – is plausibly explained by Diemschutz’s disturbance of Stride’s killer. Dr Blackwell, Inspector McWilliam and Major Smith all declared that the same man claimed both victims. The only known dissentient was Dr Phillips.36
If, as seems probable, the same man did commit both crimes he must have been possessed of reckless daring. For, having nearly been trapped in a cul-de-sac with the body of his first victim, he walked into the City to claim a second within the hour, and then, knowing full well that the Metropolitan Police must have been alerted by the first murder, returned to Whitechapel carrying knife and gruesome mementoes of Mitre Square with him. If this scenario is correct – and it probably is – Martin Friedland’s suggestion that the murders were carefully contrived ‘to throw as much suspicion as possible on the Jewish community’ deserves better than it has received from later commentators.37 The murder of Elizabeth Stride next to the International Working Men’s Educational Club, the apparent hailing of an accomplice by the name ‘Lipski’, the murder of Kate Eddowes close to another club (the Imperial) frequented by Jews, and the message ‘The Juwes are the men that will not be blamed for nothing’ chalked in the entry of a house of Jewish tenements – these signify little by themselves but, taken together, begin to make a persuasive case.
There is no credible evidence from Mitre Square that the murderer was assisted by an accomplice. This does not prove that there was no accomplice, only that one was not noticed, for the role of such a man might plausibly have been to loiter at a distance from the actual killer, watching for signs of danger and ready to intervene only if the murderer looked as though he might be caught red-handed. I say no credible evidence because there is James Blenkingsop:
James Blenkingsop, who was on duty as a watchman in St James’s Place (leading to the square), where some street improvements are taking place, states that about half-past one a respectably-dressed man came up to him and said, “Have you seen a man and a woman go through here?” “I didn’t take any notice,” returned Blenkingsop. “I have seen some people pass”.38
This newspaper tale is not corroborated in any of the official documentation now extant. Even if it is not a complete fiction there is no proof that the man Blenkingsop claimed to have seen had any connection with the murderer. Indeed, given the possibility that the estimated time was wrong, it is conceivable that he was a plain-clothes detective, investigating the crime soon after it had occurred.
A day after the double event Londoners opened their morning papers to read of yet more horrors. They were told that several days before the latest atrocities the Central
News had received a letter from someone who claimed to be the Whitechapel murderer. The writer declared himself to be ‘down on whores’, promised further killings and signed his letter with a name that would live in history and become a synonym for sexual serial murder the world over – Jack the Ripper.
13
Letters from Hell
NEWSMEN RECOGNIZED THE EXISTENCE of a multiple murderer in Whitechapel soon after the Nichols murder of 31 August, but it was not until after the double killing a month later that the assassin because generally known as ‘Jack the Ripper’. In the interval people spoke of him only as ‘the Whitechapel murderer’ or ‘Leather Apron’.
It is now well known that the name ‘Jack the Ripper’ was coined by the author of a pseudonymous letter received by the Central News Agency on 27 September. The sources of this scribe’s inspiration, however, still invite speculation.
‘Jack’ is as obvious a name as anyone could have chosen and we need really seek no explanation of it. Nevertheless, William Stewart’s suggestion that this particular use of ‘Jack’ may have been inspired by the frequency of the name amongst criminal celebrities of the past1 has found favour with students who believe the author of the original Jack the Ripper letter to have been a young man steeped in penny dreadful literature. Stewart may just have a point because the most celebrated criminal in the 19th century was the burglar and prisonbreaker Jack Sheppard. Sheppard died at Tyburn in 1724 but his reputation was revived in 1839 in a best-selling romance by William Harrison Ainsworth and for the rest of the century his short but spectacular career continued to inspire romances, chapbooks and plays. Indeed, such was the vogue for Jack Sheppard on the stage that for many years anxious Lord Chamberlains, fearful of the alleged pernicious influences of such dramas upon public morals, refused to license plays under that name. This did nothing to check the legend, however, and as late as 1885 Nellie Farren enjoyed rapturous applause at the Gaiety impersonating Jack in Yardley and Stephens’ hit burlesque Little Jack Sheppard. Another penny dreadful hero of the period was the 18th century highwayman John Rann, better known as ‘Sixteen String Jack’ from his habit of decorating the knees of his breeches with silk strings. A little of Rann’s fame still persisted in the Ripper’s day and devotees of Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie’s ‘terrible masterpiece’, will probably know that Barrie, growing up in the 1870s, was dubbed ‘Sixteen String Jack’ by one of his schoolmates because of his taste for blood and thunder literature. Closer in spirit to the Ripper than these engaging rogues was ‘Spring Heeled Jack’. This was the popular name of a miscreant who, in a variety of bizarre disguises, assaulted and terrified women and children in the environs of London in 1837–38. Spring Heeled Jack was neither identified nor caught but he entered folklore as a bogy man and his name was used by exasperated mothers well into the Ripper’s time to scare fractious offspring into better behaviour.
It is thus possible that the name Jack would have subconsciously suggested itself to a man well versed in cheap crime literature. The word ‘Ripper’ was, of course, derived from the murderer’s technique of laying open the abdomens of his victims. It was a term that had been used in connection with these crimes ever since the death of Polly Nichols, the first victim to sustain this particular injury. Polly was at first thought to have been the victim of a ‘High Rip’ gang that levied blackmail upon street-walkers. The early newspaper gossip about Leather Apron credited him with threatening to ‘rip up’ Widow Annie. And Warren, commenting on the suspect Puckridge for the Home Office on 19 September, related how he had threatened to ‘rip people up’ with a long knife.
The letter to the Central News was not the first purporting to come from the murderer and it was far from being the last. But as the first signed Jack the Ripper and the one that inspired almost all the others it was perhaps the most important. The Central News Ltd of 5 New Bridge Street received it on 27 September. It was written in red ink and read as follows:
25 Sept: 1888.
Dear Boss
I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the lady’s ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldnt you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work then give it out straight. My knife’s so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good luck.
Yours truly
Jack the Ripper
Dont mind me giving the trade name
The envelope was addressed to ‘The Boss, Central News Office, London City.’ It bore a London East Central postmark dated 27 September. The editor’s instinct was to treat the whole matter as a hoax and he delayed two days before transmitting the letter to Chief Constable Williamson at the Yard. ‘The enclosed was sent the Central News two days ago,’ he explained, ‘& was treated as a joke.’
‘You will soon hear of me with my funny little games.’ Remembering that line, the police must have looked hard at the letter again when, the night after it reached them, Liz Stride and Kate Eddowes were cruelly murdered in the East End. Then, by the first post on Monday morning, a day after the killings, the Central News received a second communication. It was a postcard, apparently bloodstained. There was no date but there was a ‘LONDON. E.’ postmark dated 1 October. Couched in the same mocking tones and written in the same hand as the letter, it read:
I wasnt codding
dear old Boss when
I gave you the tip.
youll hear about
saucy Jackys work
tomorrow double
event this time
number one squealed
a bit couldnt
finish straight
off. had not time
to get ears for
police thanks for
keeping last letter
back till I got
to work again.
Jack the Ripper2
The Metropolitan Police, to whom both letter and postcard passed, now took them seriously enough to launch a determined attempt to trace the scribe. On this occasion the assistance of the public was speedily enlisted. Preparing facsimiles of letter and card, the police published them in a poster of 3 October requesting anyone who recognized the handwriting to contact them. It was placarded outside every police station. At the same time facsimiles were sent to the press and on 4 October several papers published them in full or in part.
Perhaps the most important result of all this publicity was that it gave the murderer a name. From the Yard’s point of view the other results were disastrous. For although the publicity did nothing to unmask the the killer, or even the letter writer, it did inspire a host of imitative pranksters to deluge police and press in a tide of bogus Ripper letters. They all had to be read and, where possible, followed up, and they wasted a great deal of police time.
The much depleted Metropolitan Police case papers still contain hundreds of letters purportedly written by the Whitechapel murderer. Many, many others were sent to the City Police, to newspapers and to private businesses and individuals.3 A reading of those extant reveals only one that merits serious consideration along with the first letter and postcard. This was a very nasty little communication addressed to George Lusk of 1 Alderney Road, Mile End, the new chairman of the Mile End Vigilance Committee.4
On the evening of Tuesday, 16 October, Lusk received through the post a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. The next night he mentioned it at a meeting of the vigilance committee at the Crown in Mile End Road. Joseph Aarons, t
he treasurer, told the press how Lusk approached him in a ‘state of considerable excitement’. Aarons asked what the matter was. ‘I suppose you will laugh at what I am going to tell you,’ said Lusk, ‘but you must know that I had a little parcel come to me on Tuesday evening, and to my surprise it contains half a kidney and a letter from Jack the Ripper.’ Aarons did laugh. Someone, he told the chairman jocularly, was trying to frighten him. But Lusk was visibly shaken. ‘It is no laughing matter to me,’ he grumbled. It was already late. So Aarons suggested that they let the matter rest until the morning when he and some of the other members would call round to inspect the package.
At about 9.30 the next morning, 18 October, Aarons, together with Mr B. Harris, the secretary, and Messrs Reeves and Lawton, two of the committee members, called upon the chairman at his home in Alderney Road. Lusk opened his desk and took out a small cardboard box. It was about 3½ inches square. ‘Throw it away,’ he said, handing it to them, ‘I hate the sight of it!’ They opened the box.
Complete History of Jack the Ripper Page 35
