How could he, as an aspiring police officer, account for and deal with crimes that were either swept under the carpet or never reported? His superiors turned a blind eye to his observations and requests; as far as they were concerned, crime statistics were looking very positive. Abberline didn’t want just to patrol the streets at the regulation 2½mph, which he was assured by his superiors would deter offenders; he wanted to be a part of it by mixing with the locals and becoming accepted by them.
At this time, detective policing, especially bythose working in plain clothes, was seen as symptomatic of an intrusive system. Continental police forces might have worked like that, especially the French with their undercover spies and surveillance, but not us, not the British! For the time being then, Abberline’s plans and ambitions had to be put on hold.
About this period in time, a relatively new crime became prevalent on the streets of London. Today we know it as ‘mugging’, but during the mid–1800s it became known as ‘garrotting’, for the simple reason that the would be muggers/thieves would sneak up on their victim from behind and throttle them, either with a scarf or piece of rope, or with just their hands and arms, and then rob them of their valuables. So prevalent did this form of robbery become that shops started selling anti-garrotting collars which were advertised as ‘Patent Antigarotte Collar, which enables Gentlemen to walk the streets of London in perfect safety at all hours of the day or night’. The collar consisted of a leather strap worn around the neck, with metal spikes sticking out of it to deter would be garrotters.
While the police insisted that the crime rate was in decline, the general public were being whipped up by the press into a state of panic regarding this relatively new phenomenon. Members of the public were even expressing their views and experiences by writing to the newspapers, as this letter, which was published in The Times, shows:
Sir, I trust you will kindly afford me your valuable assistance towards placing that portion of the public residing in the suburban districts of London on their guard, and also enable me to call the attention of the Commissioners of Police to the fact, that highway robbery, with violence to the person, is in this year 1851, likely to be as common, and, in consequence of the mode of effecting it more easy and free from detection that it ever has been within the present century.
On Saturday, the 1st inst., when returning home at night, and as usual walking quick, I was, without any warning, suddenly seized from behind by some one, who, placing the bend of his arm to my throat, and then clasping his right wrist with his left-hand, thereby forming a powerful lever, succeeded in effectually strangling me for a time, and rendering me incapable of moving or even calling for assistance, although there was plenty at hand, whilst a second man easily rifled me of all he could find. I was then violently thrown on the ground, or rather I found myself lying there when I came to my senses. Two passengers, one a neighbour, raised me up, when we were immediately joined by a policeman, and by two more in less than a minute; but as I could not express myself coherently at first, the men had plenty of time to escape, and pursuit was impossible.
I believe the approach of these persons disturbed the men, for they did not get all I had about me, and I escaped the finishing rap on the head usual in these cases. I could give no description of the thieves, as I saw neither distinctly. Now, this robbery was committed on one of the most frequented highways out of London, viz., Hampstead-road, within a few yards of Haverstock turnpike, and within three miles of Temple-bar, in sight of two other passengers, the gatekeepers, and within hearing and almost within sight of three policemen. But the worst is that I have been obliged to call in medical assistance, and am still under medical treatment, for this violence brought on a return of an old complaint with tendency to an effusion of blood on the brain, besides giving a great shock to the entire nervous system; and I am convinced that an application of this human garrotte to an elderly person, or any one in a bad state of health, might very easily occasion death.
There are many men in this very district, and others who occasionally visit their friends here, who are in the habit of walking home after dark, hitherto without a thought of danger. In a case like this carrying firearms or a life-preserver, &c., is useless, for the attack and strangulation are too sudden.
Therefore, I think, Sir, it is not too much to ask whether the police authorities ought not to render us more security for life and property in what may now be fairly termed part of London itself; for since this most cowardly and atrocious system of Thuggee has prevailed, we have no more protection, if so much, than our forefathers had on Hounslow-heath a hundred years ago
In conclusion, I wish to say that the present police force apparently keep as good watch as they can over this neighbourhood.
I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
Middle Temple, Feb. 11. JAMES BROOKSBANK
It wasn’t until an MP was robbed by garrotters, on his way home from a late-night sitting of parliament, that the police were forced to take action. Parliament had responded with such indignation that one of their members had been attacked in the street, in full view of the public at large, that they quickly brought in legislation providing that such offenders were to be flogged, as well as imprisoned. The press picked up on the story, and needless to say, the police were ordered, in no uncertain terms, to crack down on all street crime.
This new initiative was exactly what Abberline had been waiting for: no more plodding the streets at 2½ mph just to make himself seen; this was his chance to get out there, mix with the locals and become accepted by them. His biggest problem, however, was his uniform; no ordinary PC was allowed to carry out his police duties unless he was wearing a uniform or had special dispensation to work in plain clothes. Abberline had tried this route on a number of occasions, but had been turned down every time; he had also tried befriending the locals while still wearing his uniform, but apart from the odd old lady here and there, he had no luck whatsoever in gaining their confidence.
Most offenders, however, were young males not too dissimilar in age to Abberline himself, and most offences committed were petty thefts; but there also lurked another type of criminal, known in police parlance as ‘the dangerous classes’, and they were said to lurk in the slums waiting for the opportunity for disorder and plunder.
Like all police officers, Abberline did have the occasional day’s leave from his duties. It was during these periods that he would go out onto the streets and into the pubs, in his ordinary clothes, and make ‘friends’ with the locals. He was breaking no police rules in doing this, as the streets and pubs were not off limits to police officers, and the way he saw it, if he could gain a little useful information at the same time, then so be it. It is often said that drink loosens a man’s tongue, and this metaphor certainly worked for Abberline. With the inside knowledge he was starting to gain, he soon started solving more crimes and making more arrests than any other officer in his station.
His superiors, however, were not too happy with his lack of record in arresting women, in comparison with the number of males he arrested. There were plenty of women committing crimes in his area, so why, they asked, was Abberline seemingly ignoring them? As far as Abberline was concerned, the most common offences committed by women during this time were linked to prostitution, with the occasional petty theft or being drunk and disorderly – not exactly crimes of the first magnitude!
Abberline also seemed to find women in general not as easy to get on with as men. There was no hint of homosexuality in his behaviour, but probably more of an inbred feeling of shyness with women. Bear in mind, he was in his early twenties at this time, and as far as we know, had never had any sort of close relationship with a woman, other than in his family.
There seemed to be a general perception at this time that women should be seen as the upholders of true womanhood, and that if a woman was seen to transgress such a viewpoint by committing a crime, not only should she be treated harshly, but she should be treated more harshly than men. Thi
s, of course, did not seem to fit in with Abberline’s point of view, hence his almost complete abstention in the arrest of females.
By the time Abberline had been at N Division, Islington, for just two years, his superiors had no option other than to offer him promotion to sergeant. He had, after all, made more arrests and solved more crimes than any other PC at his station. It was also possible that his superiors thought a change in environment might be beneficial, not just to Abberline, but to them too. Abberline took up his new post as sergeant in November 1865 and moved to Y Division, Highgate.
The distance between his old beat in Islington and his new beat in Highgate was approximately 3 miles, which meant that many of his old contacts were still relatively close to hand. This, of course, was good news for Abberline, and also for his new superiors, who were more than pleased with the way in which he was fitting in and working closely with his new colleagues.
Highgate at this time had a considerable number of Irish immigrants living within its boundaries, as did Islington to a somewhat lesser extent, so Abberline was quite au fait with the Irish accent and customs. It was just before he moved to Highgate that British agents had uncovered a Fenian plot to increase their activities in Great Britain, and especially London. The Fenians were nineteenth-century Irish Nationalists, organised in 1858 as the Irish Republican Brotherhood. The name ‘Fenian’ derives from the Old Irish word ‘Fianna’, who were legendary Irish warriors. Over the years ‘Fenian’ became an Irish derivative for soldier.
As even more news involving the Fenians started to seep into British Secret Service agents’ hands, it was decided that an undercover squad of police officers was needed to try to infiltrate the Irish community and investigate any possible Fenian activities in London. As Abberline was a natural choice for this operation, with his history of plain-clothes work, he was, in 1867, assigned to special plain-clothes duties, with orders to do whatever was necessary to infiltrate and report back any anti-British activities within his area.
Abberline’s natural accent was a soft, south country one, but after working in North London for a couple of years, he had quickly picked up quite a reasonable Cockney accent, which was enough to fool most people and one of the reasons he had managed to gain the confidence of the criminal element in his area. The Irish accent, however, was something new to him; it didn’t come naturally as the London Cockney accent had done, but to give him his due, he did try.
There were a number of Irish pubs along the Holloway Road, so dressed in what he thought was suitable attire, Abberline chose a Saturday night to visit as many as he could, in the hope of picking up some hints on the Irish accent, and maybe a word here and there regarding the Fenians.
Most pubs at this time were what is known as ‘spit and sawdust’ pubs, a term relating to the sawdust which was liberally scattered over the floor to accommodate the habit of spitting; it also helped, as Abberline soon found out, soak up the blood from the fights which broke out at regular intervals in such establishments. Guinness was the natural drink in these pubs, sometimes used as a chaser after a dram or two of good Irish whiskey. As Abberline wasn’t exactly a strong drinker, a pint of ale with his colleagues now and then being his usual limit, he soon found himself the worse for wear, and this was in his first pub!
By the end of that first evening, he had learned what to drink, if not how to actually drink it. He had also picked up a few Irish phrases, which were mostly obscenities or profanities, but he had heard no mention of any anti-British or Fenian activity. Not one to give up easily, Abberline continued his quest the following Saturday, and the Saturday after that; this was due mainly to the fact that he had leave on those particular days. He did have permission to carry out this type of undercover work during his normal working week, but he had decided to work alone for the first few weeks, bringing in the rest of his team only when he felt confident enough to show them that he knew the ropes where the Irish contingent were concerned.
After three weeks, the only contact he had managed to make was with a man named Martin, who seemed to like the idea of having an English drinking partner, whom he could brag to about how many people he knew. Not exactly what Abberline had been hoping for, but maybe someone who could be cultivated in the future? He had not heard a mention of the word Fenian, or any other anti-British activity, and as for his hopes of being accepted as an Irishman, that seemed to be completely out of the question, as even his new-found ‘friend’ Martin referred to him as ‘the Brit’.
Abberline decided to change tack. He put several of his team onto surveillance of the Irish pubs, while he decided to disguise himself as a cabdriver. He left his face unshaven for a week or two, wore a cap, polka-dot scarf and an old jacket. Scotland Yard provided the horse-drawn cab, which completed his disguise and allowed him carte blanche to go almost anywhere in London without anyone taking a second glance at him.
It was while waiting at a cab shelter in Kilburn one evening, which was, and still is, a particularly large Irish area of London, that Abberline noticed two young men as they emerged from a house nearby. The men waited on the corner of the street for some time before a third man met them and spoke to them for several minutes. Abberline had thought the men looked suspicious, as it was raining hard yet they did not seek shelter, and the third man wore no hat. After a few minutes, the third man handed one of the men a piece of paper and then left. The two men hurried across the street and asked Abberline to take them to the Horse and Groom pub in Holloway, which was one of the pubs that he had earlier tried to infiltrate.
It was almost impossible to hear what the occupants of the cab were saying, as the noise of the horses hooves, coupled with the heavy patter of the rain, drowned everything out. All Abberline could hear was the constant drone of the men’s voices from within the cab, but not what they were actually saying. He had one option, which was to open the trapdoor in the roof slightly, which he did as carefully and quietly as he could, but instead of hearing their conversation, all he heard was a very strong Irish accent shouting at him, with a few expletives thrown in, to shut that door as they were getting soaked.
As the men alighted from the cab outside the Horse and Groom pub, Abberline tried to get a good look at their faces, but from his position, high above them, this was very difficult. The only thing he did notice was that one of them had a large bushy moustache and, from what he could see of it, bright ginger hair. He continued to watch as the men went to go into the pub and had a slight collision with another man, who was coming out at the same time. By pure chance, this other man proved to be Abberline’s Irish ‘friend’ Martin, who noticed Abberline straight away and leaned up towards him to shake his hand. ‘I didn’t know you were a cabbie,’ he said.’If I had the money, I would ask you to take me to the Three Nuns pub.’ Abberline saw this as a chance to hopefully find out if Martin knew anything about the two men. He lent down, opened the door of the cab and told Martin to jump in. ‘It’s on the house,’ he said.
As the cab rattled along the well-worn cobbles towards the Three Nuns, Martin didn’t seem to mind getting a little wet from the rain, as Abberline opened the trap door and started to talk to him. It turned out that Martin didn’t know the two young men personally, but he had seen them in the pub, and from what he had heard, they had only just arrived in London a couple of days earlier, direct from Belfast. He warned Abberline off them, telling him that they were a couple of hotheads who couldn’t hold their drink and liked to fight.
This snippet of information didn’t sound like much, but to Abberline, coupled with the fact that the two men had come out of a house that he had marked down as a possible safe house, it was enough to make him feel that it might just provide a lead to possible Fenian movement within the city.
Unbeknown to Abberline at this time, an undercover British spy in Belfast, who used the name Ray O’Mara, had managed to infiltrate a gang of robbers who were blowing bank safes in order to fund the Fenian movement in Ireland. O’Mara’s contacts within the gang
led him to meet some of the Fenians’ top brass, from whom he found out that they were planning outrages in Great Britain and were eager to buy arms and explosives with the money coming in from the bank raids.
O’Mara knew that he needed to get this information back to his superiors in Great Britain, in strictest privacy and without delay. The telephone had not yet been invented at this time, so it left him with two options: the first to send a colleague to deliver the message by hand, which would take approximately twenty-four hours, travelling by horse and carriage, boat, and then horse and carriage once in Great Britain. The second, which would be the quickest method, was to send a telegram, but this involved writing out his message and passing it to a worker at the post office, who would read it and then transmit it, using international Morse code.
The telegram was obviously the better option, but how safe would it be? O’Mara talked it over quickly with one of his fellow operatives, and between them, they decided that they had no option but to send it by telegram. No secret codes had been agreed between O’Mara and his superiors in Great Britain, so he had to spell out the whole message, just leaving out obvious names and locations, and pass it to the telegraph operator.
No telegram was ever received by O’Mara’s superiors, and O’Mara himself was never seen again. The body of a man, with bruising around his neck, was found floating in the sea just off Carrickfergus. The man was never identified, but it was thought to be Ray O’Mara. In the meantime, however, O’Mara’s fellow operative had decided to get back to England as quickly as possible and relay to his superiors what he knew, and what O’Mara had told him.
By the time this news got through to Abberline and his team he had already followed up his first lead and raided the house from which the two young men had emerged from. Unfortunately the men were not caught in this raid, but they did manage to detain several other suspects, from whom information was extracted, resulting in a number of houses around London also being raided with several arrests.
Abberline: The Man Who Hunted Jack the Ripper Page 4
