The Juwes are the men that will not be blamed for nothing
PC Long then searched all six staircases in the buildings, in the hope that he might possibly find a weapon, a body, bloody footprints or even a trail of blood, but unfortunately he didn’t find anything. As he started to make his way back to the police station, he bumped into another police officer, who was from a different station to him. The police officer told him that a murder had been committed in Mitre Square, which in turn made PC Long even more suspicious of what he had found. Long told the other constable of what he had discovered, and left him in charge of the building, telling him to keep a close observation on the dwelling, to see whether anyone left or entered, while he was away. PC Long then took the piece of the apron along to Commercial Street police station, where he reported it to the inspector on duty, along with his report, which included a copy of the writing he found on the wall.
Could the piece of bloodstained apron have held a clue which has long been overlooked? It has never been established why the piece of apron was cut from Eddowes’ clothing in the first place or why it was dumped in the doorway of the flats in Goulston Street. It has been alleged that the Ripper may have used it to wipe Eddowes’ blood from his hands and face as he fled the scene, but when Abberline looked into this theory, he thought it highly unlikely, as the distance between Mitre Square and Goulston Street is approximately one-third of a mile, and would probably take about eight to ten minutes to walk. He argued that the murderer would never have seriously contemplated walking that distance through the London streets, whilst wiping away the blood from himself, knowing full well that the streets were full of policemen looking for anyone and anything suspicious at the time.
The second theory as to why he took the piece of apron was to hide his knife. This again, Abberline argued, just doesn’t hold water; why would he suddenly need something to conceal his knife in? What did he use to hide his knife before he murdered Eddowes? This then leaves the third theory, which was that he used the piece of apron to take away some of Eddowes’ internal organs. This, said Abberline, was the most likely of the three theories, but it is let down somewhat by the fact that it was dumped in Goulston Street, meaning that the Ripper either lived there in Model Dwellings, and dumped the piece of apron on his own doorstep so to speak, which would be highly unlikely, or he found a more suitable method of transporting the organs at that point, and transferred the grizzly contents of the apron to his newly found carrier. Once again, said Inspector Abberline, it just didn’t add up.
It is more likely that the Ripper, who you must remember was working very quickly in Mitre Square, cut himself badly whilst ripping open Eddowes’ body, and then used the piece of her apron to bandage his hand or arm, which he could then stuff into a pocket of his coat, thus making sure that he would not leave a bloody trail. By the time he had reached Goulston Street, he was in all probability, not too far from where he lived and felt safe enough to dump the bloodstained piece of apron.
Not only is this theory much more plausible then the other three, but it could also explain the reason why there was a pause of nearly six weeks between the murders of Eddowes and Kelly, which I will delve into later. In my opinion, the Ripper injured his hand or arm so badly that he couldn’t go about his work for this period.
Another police officer, who also confirmed that he had not seen the piece of apron or the writing on the wall of the Wentworth Model Dwellings, was DC Halse, who had been at Mitre Square just after the discovery of Eddowes’ body. He had also been part of the team sent off to comb the complex of streets around Whitechapel, in search of the fugitive. He later stated that at 2.20 a.m. he had passed along Goulston Street and was pretty sure neither the apron nor the writing were there then. He said he was sure he would have noticed these as he had specifically stopped and searched the entrance to Wentworth Model Dwellings and found nothing of interest.
After PC Long had submitted his report, he returned to Goulston Street to find a number of senior officers now on the scene. The time was now about 5 a.m. and he noticed a number of officers gathered around the doorway gazing at the graffiti and apparently discussing it amongst themselves.
When news of the two murders was broke to Inspector Abberline the following morning, he was firstly very angry that he had not been informed of such an important new development immediately, and he was also very worried regarding the location of where the piece of apron was found. Wentworth Model Dwellings not only stood in a largely Jewish locality but was also inhabited almost exclusively by Jews, and within a few short hours would see the opening of the vast Wentworth Street and Petticoat Lane markets, which were run almost entirely by Jews.
Abberline was very aware of the strong feelings of anti-Semitism that had surfaced in this area in the wake of the Leather Apron scare, and as much as he realised the importance of this piece of evidence, he also knew that if the graffiti was left for all to see, it would undoubtedly lead to a resurgence of racial unrest in the area, and the consequences could be severe indeed. This was, after all, an area that Inspector Abberline had more expertise on, than any other police officer on the case, and this is why he came up with his suggestion, that the only option was that the graffiti must be erased from the wall immediately.
Detectives from the City of London Police, however, begged to differ; the murder, they said, had been carried out in their jurisdiction, and as such both the portion of the apron and the graffiti pertained to their investigation, and should remain untouched until they decided otherwise. The City of London Police wanted the graffiti to be photographed, but Inspector Abberline pointed out to them that this would mean waiting until it was light, by which time the crowds would be arriving in their thousands to purchase from the Jewish stallholders at Petticoat Lane, Wentworth Street and Goulston Street Sunday markets.
While the two forces clashed, it was gradually getting lighter. Inspector Daniel Halse of the City of London Police suggested a compromise whereby only the top line, The Juwes are, would be erased. Abberline was against this idea, as was Superintendent Arnold of the Metropolitan Police, who later pointed out in a report: ‘Had only a portion of the writing been removed the context would have remained.’
Tempers flared, voices were raised and accusations started to fly between the two opposing teams. At one point, it is alleged that Inspector Abberline lost his temper completely, which he had never been seen to do before, and shouted at Inspector Halse, telling him that if the graffiti was not removed within the next five minutes, it would almost certainly lead to a full-scale riot against the Jews, and that he would hold Halse personally responsible.
At 5.30 a.m. Sir Charles Warren arrived at the scene. The doorway, he declared, stood on Metropolitan Police territory, which made his word final. He had a brief talk with Inspector Abberline and then ordered the message to be erased without delay. He completely ignored calls from the City of London Police to at least wait until their photographer got there. ‘It will be light by then and will have been seen by numerous people,’ bellowed Warren. ‘Remove the writing now.’
This would prove to be the most controversial order Warren gave during the entire investigation. Major Smith, the acting City Police Commissioner at the time, considered it ‘a blunder of massive proportions’ and could barely disguise his contempt for Warren’s actions in the days and weeks that followed.
Such was the furore that followed Sir Charles Warren’s controversial decision, that on 6 November, in a report to the Home Office, he defended his action with the following:
Warren’s Report to the Home Secretary
6 November 1888
4 Whitehall Place, S.W.
6th November 1888
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 Pol
ice, 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 uncontradicted. 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 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.
I am, Sir,
Your most obedient Servant,
(signed) C. Warren
It is easy to sympathise with Sir Charles Warren on this matter – Inspector Abberline certainly seemed to – as local feelings were still running high regarding the Jews, who most certainly dominated this particular area at the time. The press had not helped the situation, of course, with their anti-Semitic characterisations of people they alleged were suspects, such as the now infamous Leather Apron, and now this graffiti actually naming the Jews as ‘The men that will not be blamed for nothing’. This could provide the spark which was all that was needed to set the whole of East London ablaze.
Could there have been another reason why Warren wanted the graffiti removed so promptly? There are some who say yes to this, giving their explanation as a Freemason’s conspiracy, which involved a member of the royal family. Astonishing as this might seem, it does have a ring of authenticity about it, and involves the actual wording of the graffiti, but more about this later.At this point there was still one more Jack the Ripper victim to fall foul of his knife, but with one inconsistency, this being that up to this point there were gaps of approximately one week in between each murder. The final Jack the Ripper murder was that of Mary Jane Kelly, which took place on Friday 9 November, almost six weeks after Catherine Eddowes’ murder.
During the period between these dates, George Lusk and his Whitechapel Vigilance Committee had also been somewhat busy. On 30 September 1888, the same day as the Double Event took place, Lusk wrote on behalf of his committee to the Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury, pleading with him to offer a reward for information leading to the apprehension of the killer. He eventually received a reply from the Home Secretary, Henry Matthews, who turned down his request, saying that such matters were not a part of government responsibility. Lusk was so angry at this rebuke that he organised a public fund from within his committee and proceeded to offer their own reward. The committee also employed two private detectives, Mr Le Grand and Mr J.H. Batchelor, to investigate the murders without the involvement of the local police.
Needless to say, there was great deal of resentment between the police and members of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, for Lusk was now starting to publicly say that the police were just not doing their job. So unhappy was Lusk and the general public, according to him, with the level of protection that the community was receiving from the police, that the committee introduced its own system of local patrols using hand-picked unemployed men to walk the streets of the East End every evening from midnight to between 4. a.m. and 5 a.m.. The men, who were paid a small wage, patrolled a particular beat just like a police officer would do, and were armed with a police whistle, a pair of galoshes and a heavy stick. Committee members met each evening at 9 p.m. in the Crown public house, where they would discuss any possible leads that might have been made, before allocating the patrols for the evening. These patrols were shortly to be joined by those of the Working Men’s Vigilance Committee.
On 16 October, George Lusk received a 3in square cardboard box in his mail, which contained half a human kidney preserved in spirit, alongside a short letter to him. Convinced the contents of the box, and the letter, were a practical joke, Lusk placed the box and the kidney in his desk drawer, and didn’t think much more about it until he held a meeting of the Vigilance Committee at his home, a day or two later. He suddenly remembered it, and showed it to other members of the committee, saying that he had kept it to show them and thought he should now throw both the box and its contents away. One of the committee members, however, took the whole thing much more seriously and persuaded him to take it to Dr Frederick Wiles, who had a surgery nearby on the Mile End Road.
Unfortunately Dr Wiles was out, so his assistant suggested taking the box and its contents to Dr Thomas Horrocks Openshaw, a pathologist at the nearby London Hospital. Openshaw conducted tests on the kidney and stated that, in his opinion, it had almost certainly come from the body of Catherine Eddowes. Openshaw’s findings stated that the kidney was human and had been removed from the left side of the body of a woman within the last two weeks. The woman, he stated, would be approximately 45 years of age (Eddowes was 43). The kidney was ‘gin sodden’ (Eddowes’ favourite drink was gin). The kidney also showed an advanced state of Bright’s disease. Eddowes was suffering from Bright’s disease. Probably the most significant factor in proving the kidney had come from the body of Catherine Eddowes w
as the fact that the renal artery attached to the kidney is 3in in length altogether 1in was found still attached to the kidney, while 2in were found still intact within Eddowes’ body.
Lusk was visibly shaken by these findings, and took both the box and its contents, along with the letter, to the City of London Police, in whose jurisdiction Catherine Eddowes had been murdered.
The transcript of the note, which was also inside the cardboard box and later became known as the ‘From Hell’ letter, read as follows:
From Hell.
Mr Lusk,
Sor
I send you half the Kidne I took from one woman and prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was very nise. I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer
signed
Catch me when you can Mishter Lusk
To say George Lusk was shaken by this event could be classed as something of an understatement, for while he relished in his new-found celebrity status, his name had also started to attract a different kind of ‘fan’, who today would possibly be termed as a stalker!
Just over a week before receiving the ‘From Hell’ letter and kidney, a man, described as aged between 35 and 40, medium height, with a florid complexion, bushy brown beard, sideburns and moustache, called at Mr Lusk’s house in Alderney Street, Mile End. Lusk wasn’t at home at the time, but his housekeeper told him that he was at a nearby tavern, owned by his son. The man went to the pub, where he found Lusk and started asking him all sorts of questions; he then tried to induce Lusk to enter a private room with him, but Lusk was repulsed by the man’s strange and somewhat foreboding appearance and felt that it would be better to talk where they could be observed by other people.
Abberline: The Man Who Hunted Jack the Ripper Page 13
